Wake up (argument )

Wake-up

I grew up on the corner of Ocean Ave. and Dorchester Ave., where all the older kids sat by the stoop that provide a gust of breeze during the summer. As the little ones on the block cool off form the open fire hydrant. Brooklyn, New York, Flatbush to be specific is the topic of the composition. Flatbush is a place where people pray to God so long that they soon become an Atheist. It’s a place where you can be with your friend one day and tomorrow he is dead. And the A-Team comes by, excuse me the cops, we call them that because they come out of vans and begin shooting with no regard. They may seem odd to many, but to me this is a typical and natural condition.

Death is so normal, young men think about writing wills at eight-teen. In my apartment building, I walk through broken glass in the hallway and bloodstained floors. When I come from the corner store neighbors, look at every bag you bring through your doors. Once I come through my door I lock the top lock, my mother would love have cuffed me to the radiator so I wouldn’t go out. Just imagine and try to envision these sentences as the depict various scenarios that go on as you read this essay. These events probably won’t make it to your evening news, but stories as such affect people in a lesser or same magnitude that the victims of the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and crashed airplane accidents.

So it’s most likely my responsibility and duty to inform the less-informed about the tragedies that occur on a everyday cycle. Tragedies that touches thousands but the media feels