THE DEVIL MAFIA

My name is Akira Houston, I am eighteen years old and also the eldest child and daughter of the family of five, My Dad, Mom Grandma and my Younger brother Drew who is two years younger than me.

We are average or rather less than average black citizens of the United States. We were residing at the darkest parts of New York City.

We moved to New York City when I was nine and my brother was seven, Then things had been going pretty well for us back at New Orleans where my dad worked at an office and earned good salary.

We were doing pretty well until my dad got involved in a gamble and got into a huge debt with one dangerous mafia Lord which left him broke he was unable to complete the debt thats why we had to move.

One of my dads old friend squatted us for a year before we got a small apartment at East Harlem, One of the most dangerous and unsafe part of NYC of crime rate over Eighty percent East Harlem has violent crimes Two hundred and sixty four percent greater than the National average.

Even the subway station around Twenty fifth St could make you feel unsafe over Harlem ghetto, so one has to be street-wise to be able to survive living here. The only advantage we got here was cheaper housing prices but then the houses are no good either with almost all facility destroyed due to non-stop throwing of stones and bottles by kids with no future roaming about.

But then we got used to it and let me tell yall living here ain a piece of cake because we had to struggle as things got pretty bad for us, there was no money, no food, not even side jobs we could work on to at least manage. But my Dad never gave up, sometimes hed go on for days to look for jobs but always came back empty.

My mom too would go to meet all those rich new york ladies to request for a job as a maid in their house atleast she got lucky she was accepted and the token she earned was what we manage.

Everything kept on getting tougher and tougher and unbearable that I had to go out to the street to go search for food or anything edible for me and my brother to eat because I couldn stand seeing my family suffer anymore.

I was fourteen when it all started on one raining Monday morning we had to starve as usual my dad was out for the same cause hes usually out for, it was my moms day off or rather she was told not to come.

Drew kept on crying saying he wants to go to school although how annoying he could be with the tears, my mom wouldn stop petting him not to cry an that really made me sad. Grandma wasn feeling very well either even though she kept on