When I was eleven years old, I went to live with my grandmother. We lived in the house that she called home for thirty-eight years or so along with her many antiques and a few other family members. A time came for the local area to upgrade from its former self to a newer look. The road that ran in front of my grandmother’s house for so many years that once was dirt, became a paved roadway before I was born. So, for as long as I can remember it was a two-lane road that was soon to become four lanes of crazy traffic. She sold her house and property for apparently a decent amount because, in the Spring of 1984, we moved from North Carolina to Tennessee where we could be closer to the family that we did not get to see that often. I felt special because of being in the sixth grade for only around two months, but hey I passed so cool beans.
Well, after all the excitement, the atmosphere seemed to calm down, and things were back to a normal feeling. Zayedie stood in the kitchen, and while putting away groceries, she stopped and turned around to face me while placing her left hand on her left hip.
After a few pick pockets along the way, Cade saw a tattoo shop on the corner.
“It was just a dare! He never came back out,” Jenny said with a worried tone in her voice, as she rushed in to see her best friend Mike, who was sitting in a booth at the local eating joint, the Grill’n Chill. Mike looked up from his burger and fries as she sat down quickly.