Curtis, the new kid, was prepared to make sure that he was one of the coolest kids at his new school. He had been living in Harlem his whole life, and he still was, except for one new thing. Curtis had gotten expelled from his old school. It wasn’t his fault that he was expelled from his old school for fighting. (Or so he claims.)
Wearing his White-Tee, his Stunna’s and his favorite pair of pants, he walks into Martin Luther King Jr. High School. Stares from each and every corner of the front hallway were bombarding him like a nerd in a dodgeball game. With his backpack down as far as it could go on his back, he felt very vulnerable.
Curtis got to the end of the hallway and happened to look up at the schools bulliten board. Basketball Tryouts were beginning that day, 2 hours after school ended.
“Perfect” he thought, “Enough time for me to run home it get my ballin’ shoes” He was madly in love with the sport, and he knew that he was going to try out for the team.
The bell rang and Curtis went to begin his new school life. His 1st class of the day was weights and he decided that weights sucked. While hanging out on one of the many benches, one of the biggest, most yoked playa’s ever came up to Curtis.
“Sup Cuddy, you playin’ Ball?” This kids voice was deeper than the deepest part of the ocean
“Shoot Crip, Hell yea I am” Curtis responds in his coolest voice.
“Damn son, you best be watchin’ out than. There’s no room for some punk, movin’ in on my turf, y’all hear.”
Now, what the other kid said to Curtis had pissed him off, so Curtis had to say something in return. Unfortunately, he said the wrong thing.
“Wanna Fight?”
Curtis got exactly what he had asked for, but sadly, it wasn’t what he had wanted. He awoke a day later, in a white sheeted hospital bed, with a headache as if a knife were being shoved into his head. His mama was sittin’ there right next to him. She had looked so angry that it almost made him wanna jump up and run right out of the window.
“Curtis, how could you do this to me. First day at a new school, and you already got yo’ self in a fight, a concussion and you kicked out of school. If your pops were still around, you ass would be hurtin’ mo’ than yo’ head right now.”
“Ma, I didn’t start it, some block head brother jumped me when my back was turned.”
“Well you musta done something. What am I gonna do with you Curtis” Curtis’s Ma stood up and walked right outa the room at this.
Curtis was in a bad mood. Now he couldn’t even try out for the basketball team. He needed someone to talk to.
“Good morning Curtis” Curtis turned his head in the opposite direction he was looking so fast, that it hurt his head. It of course was his friend, Dre. Dre was Curtis’s best friend ever. They were always together. It was almost disgusting how often they were together. But it was almost ok that they were together so much, cause Dre was invisible.
“Hey Dre, your just the Pimp I needed to talk to. What should I do with myself. I feel like dieing, cause’ mama is so mad at me.
“Well Curtis, if you feel like dieing, why don’t you take inneciative, and just kill yourself?”
“I don’t know if that idea is too good Dre, Ma is gonna be mad at me if I go and bust a cap in my skull.”
“I didn’t say pop a cap in your skull. There be many other ways to kill yourself. As a matter of fact this hotel room is the 7th story, and the window over there is wide open. 3 steps and its all over. No more fighting, and getting yourself beat to death. No more having to sell blow for spendin’ money. And No more Mama always screaming at you like a banshee”
“Do you really think jumpin’ out a window is a good idea?” Curtis asks Dre in a very timid voice.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, I know it’s a good idea.” Dre replies curtly, while twisting his invisible mustache
“You sure?”
”Of course I am! Now do you need help up?”
”Well, I guess so.”
Curtis gets out of bed and walks over to the window. A step stool magically appears right below the window, and he steps right up onto it. Curtis takes one of his last breaths ever, than finds himself falling to his death, a better life. Or so Dre told him.

hahaha reminds me of "malibu's most wanted"