It was like any other Friday at my house that night. I ate my dinner in a rush, ran into the living room afterward to watch television, and quickly fell asleep. My mom was always sure to wake me up around 7:30 or 8:00 and send me up to my room for the night . Usually I would go upstairs to sleep, but not on Friday nights. Friday nights were the nights when every teenager went out on the streets. Myself, being eleven years old and practically a teenager, was in the mindset that I was just as deserving to go out as any other kid. My parents did not agree with my philosophy so I had to give myself permission to go out of the house.
             I would use the window to get out then I would proceed to scale the roof to one side of the house and jump off on to the trampoline. I was always sure to dress in completely black and I always carried the needed essentials, like some food, a flashlight, and most importantly my knife. M
             My knife was the nothing more than the same one my mom used to put peanut butter on bread with, but I sure felt powerful knowing it was in my backpack. My friends had weapons too like sticks and one even had a hand held BB gun. We need these weapons just in case some black boys came strolling into our neighborhood. Recently my home town had begun a new busing program and there were black kids in our school now. With all their talk about gangs and territorial defense we thought it only necessary to be able to defend our homeland if some gang members came to claim it.
             After climbing down from the trampoline, I made my way to the tree row that was separating my house form my nosy neighbor's. From there I would cut through three back yards, climbing fences all the way, and end up meeting my pal James in his backyard.
             This particular night James was not there but he did leave a note on the door of the shed we always met in. The note had told me to meet him and Ryan, another friend, at O.K. Elementary S...