In hope of a reader LOL

 A/N have written a fictitious story wrapped around true events of things I done or happenedin me life. Is rough and I know needs a LOT of work yet. But of all the thinks I have written this is the dearest thing to me. Have only posted a 3rd of it. Cheers in advance :)


And so she woke up.

7am "Shit",less than two hours sleep,she remembered 5am, its wen the police came to tell her dad(dad !! now that wos a fuckin joke) to keep the noise down.
She knew it wos the police by the knock on the door,briefly she wondered if they were trained specially in the 'coppers knock'.An official type of stern rap on a door that sounded serious and meant business.

Still,she had to get up,the basic black school uniform lay on the floor where it was thrown,black rather too short a skirt,black jumper (now in need of defluffing as the cat had used it as a bed) ,black knee length socks the only clean item in the ensemble,her blouse rank so she'd go without today.

Her father had locked himself away in the bathroom,situated downstairs of the small two bed terrace,at the back of the kitchen.She could hear him half coughing half puking, "Hey get outta there a need to get ready",as she smacked it's door with the flat of her hand. A rough Glaswegian voice replied with two simple words,neither pleasant and enough for her to give up and at least brush her thick black birds nest of hair in the living room.

Her mother (either asleep or passed out,in her usual once beige cigarette stained recliner chair,surrounded by a crowd of empty White Lightening bottles) always called it the 'best room'. Had no idea why,it was the same shitty state as the rest of the place,maybe it wos cos it was painted magnolia unlike the wood chip wallpaper in the rest of the house ?
Here in the 'best' room in the cupboard under the stairs lived the tall fridge freezer,the little galley kitchen having no space for it.Inside, 1 half tub of margerine, 2/3rds jar of jam with a lid so icky and a cat hair YUK ! Some hard edged Asdas cheese and NO milk, great no wash and no breakfast

After putting her hair up in 2 pony tails,best she could do without access to her products,she went into the kitchen,washed in its sink as best she could,deciding against using the washing up liquid as soap,dried herself on a tea towel,as the bathroom door unlocked and opened.
There before her stood a tramp.He wasnt a big man,about 5ft 9 an inch above her,again wondered why in this day an age we still used the imperial system for some things and not others.He had a weather beaten face,gaunt with mostly grey stubble,yellowy bloodshot eyes and brown stained but neatly rowed teeth,a self done tear drop tattoo in blue ink below his left eye. Filthy jeans and naked torso with no fat ,in fact very under weight.
"Get us som fags afore yea go school lassy will yas". Turning away putting her jumper on "Fuck off am late init a gotta go". A millisecond later she was looking up at the kitchen cieling,wondering why her hip hurt and when exactly was the last time the cobwebs had been removed.Her father storming back into the bathroom,another coughing fit.

Ok a little time out from this domestic scene,yeah yeah I know it's all sounding very cliché,but thats the thing with clichés there clichés for a reason. Personally I hate the fucking word,it's almost like a kinda brush off,a way we can all by calling something a cliché start dissing and ignoring the reality. I guess if am honest all these jottings are just one long list of one cliché after another,probably even boring as in the end weve all heard them a 1000 times before.

Leaving the house she'd slipped on her fake Doc Martins,purple and always unlaced,her only coat a 50/50% mix of polyester and cotton black hoody that came down longer than most of her skirts.Her school bag was a small rucksack again in black but with Korn and Slipknot badges.
Inside the bag amongst the wall papered covered exercise books(WTF was that about !) was her only source of income and relative independence. Half of decent weed split into 4 eighths,thers that imperial again !!

Flashing her bus pass at the driver she went upstairs,smiling to herself noticing two young men watch her with admiring glances as she did. Always thought her legs her best feature,dancers legs,strong long and defined,her butt a little too big and hated  the way her nose was a bit bulbous at the end,and at 15 still had hope her boobs would get a little bigger soon. She'd been told she had Egyptian blood and it seemed to fit with her Mediterranean appearance  also why when sun tanned she'd been called a Paki a few times. However, it was her father who had told her this and he was the kind of man if he said the sky was blue,you'd check yourself.But her overall appearance she'd like to think that Keith Lemon would describe her as 'bang tidy'

Tyrell was already sitting at the back,surrounded by his ass licking crew of two, Merv and Diz
"Hey baby girl supp"
"Starvin that nob spent all our money again"
"Well you want breakfast I got a big black sausage ya can get ya mouth round"
"Fuck off a like propa full English ya half breed"
Tyrell's gold tooth with a 'T' flashed as he grinned and put his arm round her as she sat beside him. "You know.." starting off on his recruitment speech"If he's still givin ya shit you can get protection yeah". She said nothing but stared out at the grey morning sky,watching mostly old Asian men opening up their shops in what used to be houses.Thinking the weather didnt help any making everything look grubby and worn out.

The Soho Road Birmingham,like a large river taking all kinds of flotsam and jetsom to work or school,on it's banks,shops selling saris,jewellers,electrical goods,halal butchers,stretching on towards West Bromwich and the M5. Always busy with people of all races walking up and down up and down,shame how no one ever seemed to smile.

She'd been friends with Tyrell for about a year though had known him (or of him) for a lot longer,he was useful to know.Having access to the best weed the best knock off trainers,mobiles,ipods etc.Sadly this came at great personal cost to Tyrell. His older brother of 22 was a well known gang member now serving time in Winson Green prison for dealing and firearms offences, for Tyrell this marked him out to be stepping into some very big shoes,weather he wanted to or not.
He played and looked the part well,at 16 he looked much older and over 6ft tall and just as wide,a proper NWA. Even back then she knew he was all front,however.His dreams or calling was music and becoming a DJ. No one felt sorry for anyone else though,after all,all their realities were like inescapable spiders webs.Hopes and dreams were,just that.

The bus stopped a few meters away from the school gate (it's time to kill imperial now surely). Merv and Diz got up,Tyrell held her back
"Listen babe need some dollar for that gear,you got it yeah"
"yeah in me bag,I'll have it lunchtime yeah,meet ya then ok"
"Cool dont let me down sis,it come from Sparkhill,get me ? "
Why the fuck did he go outside their little 'hood' for ? "What you do going there ?!" As they walked off the bus,the two young men from before both smiled "WOT DA FUK YOUZ LOOKIN AT PEEDO MUTHA FUKAZ" Tyrell screamed in their faces. Both looked like they were going to shit themselves,as both she and Tyrell stepped off the bus laughing.

                                      Part 2

I would like to take time out here,to explain that she would love to call her school Apathy High or Hopelost High. However, in truth though not only her but many of the students at the time felt these very suited names,hindsight would tell a different version. It wasn't a great school but it certainly wasn't a bad school either. Underfunded like so many inner city schools, and struggling to meet  Government targets.
Teachers in class  did spend more time trying to maintain order than actually teaching (so who's fault is that really ?), pupils making their tutors lives hell as best they could,and again looking back to those times it's amazing how those tutors must have been fairly dedicated,a heroic feet just to even turn up every day and take the abuse they must have known wos coming time and time again. Back then tho students didn't see teachers as real human beings, grass wos green the sky was blue and schools had teachers,end of.

One of her main features that stood her out from the rest of this unruly mob of students was her colour,one of a handful of white faces in the school,most being of Asian or afro Caribbean descent,she didnt mind this at all in fact it went  to her advantage,white girls  being very popular amongst the male pupils of every race colour and creed,mostly for all the wrong reasons,but her street smarts had taught her to play this to her favour. Weakness comes in many forms and learning to use others weaknesses against them were lessons learnt a hard and fast way,sometimes brutally,like on any African plain nobody wants to be the Gazelle or Zebra and the same rules apply in most inner citys around the country.

The one thing the school did offer,and a relief to all pupils for a few hours,like a church in the middle ages a school was neutral ground.Gang colours put away swapped for a uniform that was the same for all,and a new new common enemy found encompassing teachers rules and 'the system'. Like the old Madness song to be bent and broken at every turn,it wasn't about being nasty or vindictive(though many times it would seem that way to their ever suffering tutors),it was about 'kudos points' amongst their own peers. The badder you were the more untouchable you became,to be seen as weak was,well sorry to say but your life is going to be HELL. The weak tho did have their own survival methods,be grey be invisible never stand out,1 of a thousand Gazelles so the chances were it wasnt going to be you mugged an beaten all term until another victim was found (be it both in and out of school)

She could never be invisible,white skin just wasn't going to let that happen, her attentions were sort by all the bad 'bois' from different crews forced to mix together under the same school badge. She wasn't the only one there were another dozen white girls to but their story is their own. Her survival method ? to become availably unavailable to all the different crews,make them all think their 'in with a chance' be friends to all but affiliated and loyal to none. If you would have called her Switzerland back then sadly all you would have received is a blank look. Never thinking herself as slutty or a tart,the occasional finger banging and snog at a party was a fair price for being held in some kinda high regard (and not a Gazelle) and sometimes  quite enjoyable too.

She waited behind the kitchens in a walled off bin store,lunch was nearly over the play ground everyone moped around in their various cliques,tho a little smelly no one could see in here. Tyrell entered stage right "hey you good ?" He had a fresh showered odour to him with a hint of some unknown deodorant,obviously had games before lunch. "Yeah we cool" reaching into her rucksack she pulled an envelope out containing many used and abused five ten and twenty pound notes,also a plastic Tescos bag full of silver and £1 coins. Tyrells look of scorn on the bag,sucking in through his teeth "How much is in that","reckon about 25"she replied.

"Thats yours then,the usual yeah"
"Fuck that gimme a note or 2 I took the risks init"
"Girl  I aint takin no small change to him am I",he had a point THAT would be just embarrasing even so she angrily threw the Tescos bag in her rucksack,the final insult being it split on impact change spilling everywhere inside it,"Shit now look wot ya made me do dick head".
He laughed,she liked his laugh always seemed sincere and genuine,putting both his powerful arms round her neck he pulled her close to him kissed her forehead then cheekily pinched her bum "Laters Ho" turned and left.

The end of school bell,YES its the weekend (insert smiley face),child or adult I don't think that Friday feeling ever goes away,unless you have one of those jobs that means your working the weekend anyway. On her way home,this time she walked, she would see her best friend Sammy.
Sammy aka Skinny, was a Nigerian refugee the same age as herself,and no matter  how she thought her self hard done by in lifes throw of the dice,was always inspired by his optimism and openness, an all round nice man, after all he'd been through in his few short years. Three years he'd been in the UK spoke better English than herself,straight A student without even having to try (don't you just hate those people),at aged 10 he'd seen his parents and many brothers and sisters slaughtered and most of the inhabitants of his small village home,by who no one ever said. his real name  no one could pronounce had many x's y's and a few z's in all the wrong places for most others to get their heads around. So he became Sammy or and because he was,Skinny.
She also loved his voice,hard to describe unless heard but a soft African accented voice,to her one of the most beautiful sounds she'd ever heard. However,today her visit was mostly business,Sammy had somehow become the neighbourhoods (for the kid population) best fence and receiver/supplier of various cosmetics clothing and dodgy DVD's ans CD's

Sammy lived in a street full of 3 storey old town houses,Victorian,the kind the wealthy would have lived in at the turn of the century.Today all converted into flats and bedsits owned by housing associations,refuge centres and in Sammy's case a childrens/young adults charity.
He had a small self contained bedsit with supposedly a warden permanently on site,but it was a relaxed place to with people coming and going with ease.She pressed the intercoms buzzer "yeah","Sammy is me".The latch clicked and in she went,up two flights of stairs,top floor bedsit eleven,the door already open.
Inside was small,1 window overlooking the front,under it's sill a chest of drawers,on the opposite wall a tiny 'Wendy house' sized cooker,next a tiny fridge and what looked liked an afterthought a sink and drainer impossibly squeezed in at the end. The adjacent wall a single bed,which she nonchalantly dived on then sat up legs outstretched leaning her back against the wall,Sammy sat in the bedsits only chair facing the bed,to it's left  a shower cubicle.
"Hello my friend and how are you today" wow that voice,she wished he'd talk more,he was rubbish at small talk,sometimes it seemed everything he ever said was calculated and measured.
"Good thanks,tho me dads back again you mind if I change here an crash later, I aint goin home tonight" although sounding very matter of fact her eyes gave away an almost pleading look towards him.
"Sure but why go out,I don't like these things that you do,stay I have the Lion King on DVD" he smiled hopefully (His passion for Walt Disney cartoons though was his alone) Even so he got up over to the drawer pulling out a Dorothy Perkins bag,gently handing it to her like some precious gift (in a way maybe it was ?) "As promised" he said. She tipped it's contents onto the bed,a size 8 plain white dress,size 5 red stilettos with a 4" heel (I'm saying nothing I'm bored now of all this imperial/metric crap) and assorted make-up within a smaller Boots bag.
"Can I pay you later ? Only got a few quid on me now yeah", "Of course I don't think you will leave the country over twenty pounds" he chuckled.
He turned around an looked outside,far below to the main street already filling up with cars parked so tightly squeezing in to every available space he wondered sometimes  HOW do they ever get out again, while she changed. It was a perfect fit,exactly what she needed.Under the dress she wore nothing but a lace see-thru red thong,the dress skirt just showing a hint of her ass,it clung to her like cling film showing all her curves and bumps,even the outline of her nipple ring on her right breast. "Sammy your a star" giving him a twirl.
"I still think you could do other better things,but I want you to be safe yes" He then threw her a red clutch bag,opening it she found a crisp ten pound note and a packet of 3 condoms,she was a little insulted at this but said nothing but to thank him for the money.

She kissed him on his cheek leaving the typical red lipstick mark,he never returned it,but gave her his spare key.As she turned to leave heading down the stairs he shouted down to her "Be good", without looking back opening the main front door she replied "Always am" then she headed up the road to the nearest bus stop.


A little about Sammy and her. Although to an outsider their friendship would maybe seem odd and unlikely,it was forged from circumstance and necessity for both of them. For Sammy,and not a fact she knew then,she was is only friend,he had many acquaintances but no one who'd come round to his little home for just a chat or go shopping with him and do all those usual things friends do with each other. She had been the first to talk to him at their school,the first to show him around his new home and all Birmingham's sights (or lack of) and was to eventually teach him the ways of this urban jungle and how to earn an extra income.
For her he was almost a breathe of fresh air,wanting nothing from her but her company.Over time she found herself not exactly opening up to him but being just herself,even her other friends such as the likes of Tyrell she found herself kind of putting on this hardened bitch act,or with her parents she had learned to be mostly silent (be grey be invisible).With him the more and more she found she could be a 'other self' one which she had almost forgotten existed at all.
 Together they had spent many a time in his bedsit watching Walt Disney,they knew every word to all the songs of the Jungle Book,once had even tried to learn the dance routine for 'I Want To Be Like You HOO HOO' ending in rib hurting laughter,they had played together like 8 year olds and laughed together the same,something neither had done for a very very long time.Those times together in their own little bubble for a few moments they could each forget for a while a world of gangs drugs guns and genocide.


       PART 3

 It was a little early yet for Friday night revellers in Broad Street,so she first went into the Macdonalds by Centenary Square,while tucking into her quarter pounder with cheese meal (never had extra large an always with a coffee she thought their coke was awful) she was thinking of her plan of action. Her usual night for this was Saturday but having been down the two previous ones she thought she'd be taking  to much a chance of being recognised,so was going to try the Friday night party people instead.
 She'd only go to big busy bars and clubs those too busy to check fake ID's properly or where she knew the doorman,she couldn't help a little laugh escape thinking how if you morphed an undertaker with his sombre suit and a zombie like Frankenstein together you'd end up with a doorman (these were the days before HI-VIS became the now named 'security' fashionable).

"Yam alroight babe am ya" Oh god a bloody 'Yam Yam' Black Country bumpkins,it was their accent most thought of as 'Brummie' Noddy Holder has A LOT to answer for. "Ya waitin for sum one lioke cos if you on yam own we goin over the row-ad(road) if yam fancy it babe"
She turned to him and surprisingly found him quite handsome,blond hair in a kinda grunge style youthful face but probably between 23 and 26ish, but for fucks sake his and his friends dress sense was abysmal. Checked shirts Oasis style and corduroy trousers with trainers,she wondered about telling them they had little chance of clubbing it tonight,trainers in most places were still banned.
"I aintcha babe yeah,an am waitin for me crew but ya might find me in Tiger Tiger laters" Unlike now back then the word 'crew' meant only one thing,a quick shared nervous glance at each other and they left after a hurried "Ok sure whatever hope to catch yam later"

It was a total lie of course,tonight she was hunting alone. Asian men were her target.Now these reasons maybe racist or not but there is a fact (a weakness to be exploited) amongst good Muslim Bois. They came to Broad Street at the weekends hunting white girls as all good Muslim girls never 'put out',white sluts tho did it was a fact amongst them that all white girls were cheap sluts. So here she was,looking for the taking.
The other thing about these good Muslim Bois in those days,they still had immaculate dress sense unlike any other race.It meant a lot of them still wore suits or jackets,and as every good thief knows jacket pockets contain many wallets if the owner is stupid enough to keep them there.

An hour later found her in the Brass House one of the largest pubs in the middle of town,it was rammed mostly still of after work weekend drinkers,she walked in confidently an straight to the bar (she was an still is one of those annoying people that are never kept waiting long even in the busiest of bars),ordering a coke with ice and a straw,she didn't drink alcohol living with an abusive alcoholic had cured her of that sin, she sat on a low leather chair by the window,crossing her legs to keep her dignity.

The women,a few of them at least,gave her disdainful looks,most would know she was under age probably,others it seemed to her didn't like brighter birds in their roost,and the men,well most of them did look at her admiringly from afar,but  as the night was young most had not drunk enough yet to dare approach her.
A smart suited man of about 30 did,however,probably a solicitor or worked at the Law Courts. "Hi excuse me mind if I sit or are you waiting for a certain someone" his smile wasn't of confidence  but arrogance,or was she just biased against these people ? "No is cool am just havin a quick one before headin off " she smiled back,as he sat opposite her across the even lower table than the dwarfish chairs shed already struggled to sit on. "Well I was hoping to buy you another as you've been empty these last ten minutes" he hadn't stopped smiling,she changed her mind about him and thought him actually quite genuine. She laughed "Oh do I have a stalker then ! But thanks yeah coke for me please voddys later it's gonna be a long night I hope", "Great with a straw and ice to I see" He got up went to the bar.

As he did she uncrossed her legs with some difficulty and tried to sit in a more provocative way,unfortunately skin on leather sticking then suddenly giving way all she achieved was a farting sound that made a couple smirk on their way out. When he came back he sat himself beside her,placing their drinks on the mats provided,she sat with her knees towards him her clutch bag on top of her thighs as a shield from being thought of as too easy (yet).
She was pleased to,that also her drink was indeed just coke,many would have tried a vodka in it in a vain hope that she wouldn't notice. Being used to the same lies in these situations during the 'getting to know you' speech,all good lies are half truths they say. Saying she was at the UCE studying drama and dance,subjects if pushed she could actually talk about on an intelligent level,she once said nursing,only to be caught out by a real junior doctor. But hey we all learn through are mistakes right ?

An hour later she was still small talking to this guy,Simon as it turned out.To him she was Vicky Greenaway (the name on her ID) student in drama and dance at the UCE,18 and a half years old.Simon a 32 year old solicitor specialising in criminal law (oh the irony).
It was getting boring now though,time was ticking and time is money,and he was far too polite,it was up to her to to step up the pace.
"Ok time for another yeah,my round init ?" He looked happy with this deal.
"Yeah thanks I don't mind going Dutch,mines a Stolly"
"what the F...sorry I mean whats a Stolly"
Laughing again "It's true Russian vodka,puts hairs on your chest" he winked
"Cool I'll join you but am gonna be drown mine in coke" She picked up the clutch bag and stood before him,accidentally on purpose exposing her knickers,as she pushed past the small space between his legs and the table Simon's hand softly  yet deliberately caressed her thigh momentarily. Game on finally she thought.

Annoying the bar tender having to sort out a pile of change,she paid for the 'Stolly' and neat coke,returning this time she sat a lot closer placing her elbow on the back of his chair,leaning forward they clinked glasses "Cheers" sipping her coke,"Nastrovia" he said gulping his down.
"Sorry but nature calls,I'll get another when I come back or maybe you want to go some place else ?" He patted her knee as he got up to leave to find the gents,as soon as he disappeared into the crowd she reached into his jacket pocket and 'BINGO'.Taking only the cash,without counting it,she slipped it into her bag,along with a calling card (you never know when you might need a good lawyer).Seconds later she was outside,her next destination Bobby Browns nightclub.

Two hours later found her in the toilets of the Walkabout bar,counting the takings,£235 a good night,though Simon had provided £150 of that,so thanks Simon.Never get too greedy,quit while your ahead,time to dance.

It was a long walk to Snobs nightclub,but the shoes were comfortable (probably would have hurt like hell if she'd paid for them) The only incident was her 'giving the finger' to a small group of chavs who'd asked her,how much and would they get a discount for a party,all just happy drunk banter.
Nigel was on the door,she gave him her entrance fee plus an extra ten as he slipped two pills with her change.Ordering Evian at the bar she 'necked' them there and then,not even bothering to particularly hide the fact. Four hours later she was still dancing.
At 2am the lights came on and everyone was escorted out,she found Nigel asked to borrow his mobile (the days before pay as you go and most phones were paid straight from bank accounts,it would be another 2 years before she had one of those). She waited for the taxi she'd called in the doormens little staff room having had tea made for her,and also acquiring a small bag of weed at a good price from the 'confiscated items'.

A little note to all this would be to say at young age she'd learnt that making people feel important or wanted was a great asset.things like ALWAYS using the same taxi company,and chatting with the drivers and operators knowing their names made the waiting time less,almost VIP class,knowing doormen and their names,asking about their families etc got you into many places (hmm,or help open otherwise closed doors (insert LOL)).

The taxi pulled into Sammy's street about 2.45am,as usual  a few kids and adults were milling around,some puffing on spliffs others trying to buy,the city never sleeps. She got out a few doors away giving the driver a tip (tippers are always remembered).She knew most the faces hanging about,stopping at some saying "Hi" and moving on.
"Hey you seen Ty ?" No one would call him that to his face she thought.
Turning around to the voice she saw Staff and his little crew of 11 to 15 year olds.Staff was about 13 and amongst the kids this was HIS street,he was also supported by the local gang,it made him a 'big noise' about the place,someone to be respected.

 These little 'junior gangs' were all over the place,like some Dickensian Artful Dodger's group run by modern Fagins in inner citys everywhere,only these didn't have cute smiles and song and dance routines,they had knives and guns,used mostly as drug runners.Unlike youth groups like Brownies or Boy Scouts,their Duke of Edinburgh was making a name for themselves on the streets,as a right of passage before being allowed to join the 'inner circle' of badass gangsters,and the competition was fierce.

"No I aint,am not his bitch,an if he caught calling him that he'd have words in ya face"
He wasn't even worried "You not heard then ? Bluds out to get him init ,was told to show for some business,pussy-clat dint turn up,Vince is in a rage"
 Vince was the boss,gang leader of this,our bit of turf  spanning the whole of Handsworth into Lozells.He was definitely to be feared,all her life so far she'd avoided joining any gang,her only little crew was a dance act,amateur for sure but they took it seriously, and avoided the big names of these crews,the mention of his name  sent a cold shiver down her spine and making her throat suddenly dry.

"I'm sure Tyrell has his reasons" It didn't sound very convincing.
"So you all dressed up yeah you fuckin that Skinny raj- clat ?" By now she'd realised she'd fallen for an old trick,while chatting to Staff his 'hommies' had surrounded her,BOLLOCKS was all the could think to herself.
"What I do is fuck all to you,you know who I am yeah ?" a threat that carried as much weight as a Fairies fart now.
"For sure baby girl,you was Tyrell's bitch,but since he aint no longer an better be runnin ,I kinda figure that makes you now my bitch,BITCH"
With that one of the boys behind her grabbed her arms pinning them fast behind her back,as Staff hitched up her skirt roughly shoving his hand down her pants,she looked about but everyone else had moved on quietly,silently turned invisible. Fuck it.
She coldly looked Staff in the eye.
"So heres the deal yeah,gimme the bag you walk away,gimme any lip from now on bitch I'll give you a gang fucking ya wont never sit down again from yeah" He had the bag anyway ??? but with that he punched her in the side of her face,if she wasn't being held up she'd have fallen,all she could see were tiny sparks of light in her eyes,and felt the swelling almost immediately.

The years of being a human punchbag for her father hadn't toughened her up any from such things but had made her experienced  in the art of being hit,it didn't make the pain or bruising any less,but you can take a hit like a boxer and try 'ride it out' moving your head in the same direction of the force and clamping your jaw shut tight. It had become very natural for her to do without even knowing it.
Staff was pissed off,she never cried out and she wasn't crying now as he'd expected,she had made him look like a dick head in front of his mates,he took the money from the clutch bag and threw it into the road,nodded his head and they left,she fell to the floor as she was released, Staff grabbed her hair pulling her to his face leaving her with "Your boi is fucked which means you is fucked you protection gone,get me bitch? so next time we meet better be showin respect yeah" He threw her back on the ground,she stayed there not moving until they'd all gone.No one came to help,just some curtains twitched and a cat ran across the road.