My Front Door

The front door was my security blanket in a round about sense of the word.

When i was my crazy lil self i used to come home, close the front door and feel pretty
much safe. Our house was aways off from the street around 75 feet back more or less and the door was an old heavy solid wood door.

I felt if i was ever shot at or the house, the door would protect me and stop any bullets
flying and also, the distance would make it harder to get a better aim! This was my mentality, this was my life and it was a dangerous at times.

The house next door over (my neighbor) had been shot up many times and i remember some of the homies positioned up on the roof at times with rifles and or guns. Our rival gangs knew the house was a hangout and marked as such. But even though it was and not mine, i was still fearful of anyone shooting mine up. The story i wrote of Pacos Pad being shotup was at the time a part of this whole scene too. It was war and all i knew was that when i walked in and closed the door behind me i was safe at last.
At least for the moment...