It was a Sunday afternoon, everything was as it used to be. Mom was in the kitchen, dad was watching TV and drinking beer, and Daniel? We never knew where Daniel was, driving a stolen car, doing drugs or skipping school thinking that it makes him cool. But it doesn’t, it never does, it just makes him look like a loser...
Michael and I passed the time by playing games, when we suddenly heard the door being slammed and yelling downstairs. I went down the stairs but didn’t go all the way, I knew that it was Daniel and dad arguing. It was the usual argument, bad friends, school, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes on him, that kind of stuff... But this time it felt different inside me, like I knew I had to do a difference and I knew I what to do about it, should I do it? I guess I should, but it’s never fun to be the responsible one, not when you’re only 11 years old...
The guys
I knew that if I was going to a difference about it, I had to talk to his friends, to find out what they were doing all the time, and I knew exactly who to talk to; James... In a way I always liked James, Daniel always brought him home to dinner, mostly because his mom and dad were fighting all the time. He was the only one of Daniels friends, that treated me nicely, that’s why I knew he would help me.
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