Two shots from two "22's" breaking the silence
Nobody sleeps. Many are weeping.
But the screams are constantly drowned by the loud police sirens.
Nobody hears them.
They've heard rumors about Bedlow Drive..
is it as bad as they say it is?
I am familiar with the killer from around the corner,
but nobody dares to tell a soul, let the police figure it out.
It's not like they show up when a minority calls anyway.
We have to make police reports online now. I guess it's gotten that bad.
Plus, we're too busy trying to make it out; no use in becoming his next target.
Each house, different religions....some none..
It has become inevitable that we turn to God at some point, though.
They tell us to "go to church if you're scared,"
afraid that if we don't sell our souls on each corner, somebody will eventually take them from us..
I just want to go "home."
At least I'll have somewhere to stay if I take the "easy way out."
Cold nights. cold bodies.
Stainless steel concealed in their pockets.
Stockton raises warriors with survival tactics...most of them just happen to live on my street.
At this point, it doesn't matter what color you have on anymore.
It has become a deeper warfare than that now.
Everyone keeps to themselves now, at least for the most part.
A few small circles...I was never involved.
I'm just broken...standing in the middle of it...
Waiting for a "stray" to hit me next.
I'm wondering if my own bullet will beat it to the catch...
Shattered dreams. Broken hearts.
Cars continuously race up and down the block.
Just to get out of Bedlow Drive.
We rise up to meet our expectations.
They keep us as low as they possibly can.. nobody believes they have a chance.
Numb to the pain.
A stinch of depression and shame on your breath as you take another sip...
Smoke a little bit...
We're fine. Just fine.
As long as we don't go outside.