I was ten when I first witnessed violence. I was with my older brother and one of his boys, in the car. My brother pulled up on six guys and asked where they where from. They said where they were from. Then me and his boy got out. I had a machete and his boy had a revolver.
My brother stayed in the car and tried to run them over. The two scattered like roaches, my brother hit one of the two that ran, and I swung the machete at one of them but missed. Then I caught a rock to the head.
My brother’s boy saw it and started shooting. From there, all I remember is hearing popping sounds and me hella bleeding from my top left eyebrow. My brother came back, picked us up and took us home.