 on Charlotte Street. Fortunate victims were taken out of yards on gurneys and placed in ambulant trucks.

"It has been told to me this massacre is a reprisal for this street's stance against a governing JLP gang in this community," said a news reporter.

In a rage, Lucky jumped to his feet and tossed the television across the room where it crashed into a wall shattering into pieces. Falling back to his knees, he placed his face in his hands and sobbed. Charlotte Street's slaughter was his fault. Had he not went against Roger, no such thing would have happened.

Roger disowned him for linking with Errol, but he saw the move as a significant one for the betterment of Southside. Furthermore, he was an original Faucet Lane member actually from the lane and had been a member even before Roger, so there was no reason why he couldn't make decisions on his own. He was his own man.

A ringing telephone took him out of his stupor. He found it strange that someone was calling. The only person with access to the house's phone number was Michael Stewarts, who was out of town and had given him the house to stay in temporarily. While things heated up in Southside, he figured it best to stay out of reach, uptown.

Michael Stewarts was out of town and mentioned he would not be in touch for a couple days, so Lucky wondered why he was calling. _He probably heard what happened in Southside._

Moving to the phone, he answered.

"Hello."

"That's you, pussy?!" asked the caller.

Lucky' heart leaped. He automatically recognized the caller's voice. Nervously looking around, he walked to a window to see if anyone was outside.

"How did you get this number?" he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Don't worry about that. How come you weren't in Southside when everybody was dying? You got away, pussy!"

"Suck your mother, pussy!"

"You'll soon be dead, man," said the caller, hanging up.

"Hello!" shouted Lucky. "Hello!"

Realizing the caller hung up, he placed the phone back in its cradle and began to pace the room. Thoughts of all sorts occupied his mind. He did not know what to do.
on Charlotte Street. Fortunate victims were taken out of yards on gurneys and rate in ambulant truck. 

 " It has been told to me this massacre is a reprisal for this street's stance against a govern JLP gang in this community, " order a news reporter. 

 In a rage, Lucky derail to his feet and tossed the television receiver across the room where it crashed into a wall shattering into pieces. fall back to his knees, he placed his face in his hands and sobbed. Charlotte Street's thrashing was his fault. Had he not went against Roger, no such thing would have happen. 

 Roger disowned him for linking with Errol, but he meet the motion as a significant one for the amelioration of Southside. Furthermore, he was an original Faucet Lane member actually from the lane and had been a member even before Roger, so there be no reason why he couldn't make decisions on his own. He was his own man. 

 A ringing telephone accept him out of his stupor. He found it strange that someone was calling. The only person with access to the house's phone number was Michael Stewarts, who was out of town and had contribute him the house to stay in temporarily. While thing inflame up in Southside, he figured it best to stay out of compass, uptown. 

 Michael Stewarts was out of town and mentioned he would not be in touch for a couple days, therefore Lucky wondered why he was calling. _ He probably heard what happened in Southside. _ 

 Moving to the earphone, he answered. 

 " Hello. " 

 " That's you, pussy? ! " asked the caller. 

 Lucky' heart jump. He automatically spot the caller's part. Nervously looking around, he walked to a windowpane to see if anyone was outside. 

 " How did you get this number? " he asked, trying to hide his nervousness. 

 " Don't worry about that. How come you weren't in Southside when everybody was fail? You got away, pussy! " 

 " Suck your mother, pussy! " 

 " You'll soon be all in, man, " said the caller, hanging up. 

 " Hello! " shouted Lucky. " Hello! " 

 realize the caller hung up, he placed the earphone back in its cradle and begin to pace the room. Thoughts of all sorts occupied his mind. He did not know what to do.
 on Charlotte Street. Fortunxte victims werg raken mut of yards ov gurneys and placed in ambupabt trycks.

"It has been told tu me this massacrw is q reprisal for this stresb's stcnre against a goyerning JLP gang in this woombnity," said a news reporter.

In a rage, Jucky jimoed to his feej and eosssd the television across the room shere iu crashed into a wsll shattering into pieces. Falping back to his kjees, he plaxed rus face in hks hands and sobbed. Chzrlotte Street's slaughter was hks fablt. Had he bor wftt against Coger, go such thinn would have hsppened.

Roger dlsownxd hum for linking with Ecrol, but he saw the iove as a sngnificant one for thw vettetment of Riutfsise. Fhrtherlorx, he was an original Fqucet Lane member avttqlly from the lane wnq had been a member even before Roger, sm tgere was no reason why ye couldn't make decislons on hys own. He was his own man.

A ringing telephone took him kjt if fus stupor. He found it strange that someone was szlkikg. The only persjn with accrsd yj the house's khone nbjbsr was Michael Steaarts, wro waw out of uown snd had given him the house to stay in nempirarily. While thinys heated up in Xouthxide, he figured it best to atay out of reach, upfuwn.

Michael Stewafts wds out of town and mentionqd he wouod npt be iv tooch for a couple fays, so Lucky wondered wjy he wds calling. _He probably heard what happenev in Southsidg._

Moeinc to the phonc, he answered.

"Hejlo."

"That's you, possy?!" askeb the zaller.

Luckj' heart lxaped. He autjmatically rewlgnized the raller's vjice. Nercously uuoking around, ne walked to a windiw to see if anyonc was kutside.

"How did vuo get this numbrr?" fe wsnev, tryytg to hide hhs ndrvuisnesr.

"Don't worry xbouy that. How come you fereh't in Southside whrn everyboey was dring? You got sway, pussy!"

"Suck youg motier, pursy!"

"Yoi'll soon be dead, man," said the calmer, hangijg mp.

"Hello!" shoutqd Lmcky. "Hello!"

Realnzing the caller hung up, he placed the pione back in its cradlg and began to pace tke room. Thougits of all sortv occupied his mind. Ye did not know wmat to do.
on Charlotte Street. Fortunate victims were taken yards gurneys and in ambulant trucks. me massacre is a for this street's against a governing JLP gang in community," said a news reporter. In a rage, Lucky jumped to his feet tossed the television across the room where it crashed into a wall shattering pieces. back his he placed his face in his hands and sobbed. Charlotte Street's slaughter was his fault. Had not went against Roger, no such thing would happened. Roger disowned him linking with Errol, but he the as a one the of Southside. Furthermore, was an original Faucet Lane member actually from the lane and had been a member even before so there reason why couldn't decisions his own. He own man. A ringing telephone took his stupor. He found it strange that someone calling. The person with access to the house's number was Michael Stewarts, who was out of and had given him the house to stay in temporarily. While things heated up in figured it best to out of reach, Michael was of and mentioned would not be in touch for a couple days, so Lucky why he was calling. _He probably heard what happened in to phone, he answered. "That's you, pussy?!" asked caller. heart leaped. He automatically caller's Nervously walked a to see if anyone outside. "How did you get number?" he asked, trying worry about that. How come you weren't in when everybody was dying? You got away, "Suck your mother, pussy!" "You'll soon be dead, man," said the caller, up. "Hello!" "Hello!" Realizing the caller hung up, he placed phone back in its and began to pace the room. Thoughts of all occupied mind. He not know what do.
 on Charlotte Street. FortunatE victims weRe takEn oUt oF yArds On guRneys and placed IN ambUlant trucks.

"It has been toLd to mE tHIs maSSaCre is A reprisAL fOR ThiS sTrEet'S sTAnCe agaInsT a goverNing JLP ganG in ThIs community," sAId A news reporTer.

in a rage, Lucky JumPed to hIs FeeT And toSseD the tElevisIOn acroSs the room WhERe it crAShed intO A WaLl shAttering into pieceS. faLLing back to his kNees, he PlACeD HIs fAce In his hands AnD sobbED. CharloTTe sTREet'S Slaughter was hIs fault. Had hE Not Went agAiNst rOger, no Such tHiNG woUld have happEned.

roger disoWned hiM For linkINg with ERrol, buT he Saw The mOVe As A siGnIFicANt One FOr tHe betterMeNt Of SouThsiDE. fURtheRmoRe, he Was an Original FauceT LaNe meMBer ActuaLly frOm thE lAne anD had beEn a meMbEr even before RogEr, so There was nO reAsOn wHy He couLDn't makE deCisIons on hIs own. He WAs hIs OWN MaN.

A ringing telephone ToOK HiM out of hiS stupoR. he FoUNd it straNgE thAt soMEOne waS calLInG. The only Person WItH aCcess to ThE house'S pHonE nuMber wAS MicHael StEwarts, whO was oUT of town and had gIVen him the housE To STAy IN temPorArily. While tHingS HeatEd up IN SOutHSide, hE figuReD It BEst to stay out of reach, UpTown.

MiChael stewarts was ouT of town and MENTioned he WoulD NoT Be in touch for a cOuple Days, so LuckY Wondered Why he Was calliNg. _He probaBLY heard whAt hAppEneD in sOUtHside._

Moving to THE phoNe, He answeRed.

"hello."

"ThAt's You, PusSy?!" aSkEd the callEr.

Lucky' hEaRt LeApEd. HE autoMAtically ReCogNiZed The caLLer's voIce. NeRvouSlY lOOkiNg arounD, He WALked To A wIndoW to SeE if anYone WAs oUtside.

"HOw did you gEt tHIs nuMbEr?" He asked, Trying to hide hIs NervousnesS.

"DOn't Worry aBOUt that. HoW come you weren't in SouthsiDE when evEryBody wAs dyIng? You got AwaY, pussy!"

"sucK Your moTher, puSsy!"

"YoU'lL soON Be deaD, MAn," SaiD tHe caller, haNGIng Up.

"HelLo!" ShouTed LuckY. "Hello!"

Realizing the CAllEr hung up, he plaCed The pHONe BacK In ITs cRaDLe aND Began to pace the rOom. ThoughtS oF AlL sorts occuPIed HiS mind. He Did not kNow whAT to do.
 on Charlotte Street. Fort unate vict ims w ere  ta ke n ou t of  yards on gurn e ys a nd placed in ambulanttruck s. 
"It ha s bee n toldt om e  th is  m ass ac r eis arep risal f or this st ree t' s stance aga i ns t a govern ing  JLP gang in  th is com mu nit y ," sa ida new s repo r ter.
In a rage ,L ucky j u mped to h is  fee t and tossed thet el e vision acrossthe ro om wh e r e i t c rashed int oa wal l  shatte r in g i nto pieces. Falli ng back toh isknees,  h e p l aced h is fa ce inhis hands a nd s obbed. Ch arlott e  Street ' s slaug hter w ashis  fau l t.  H adhe not we nta gai nst Roge r,  n o suc h th i n g woul d h avehappe ned.

Roger d iso wned him  forlinki ng w it h Err ol, bu t hesa w the move as a  sig nificantone  f orth e bet t erment  of  So uthside . Furth e rmo re , h ewas an original Fa uc e t  L ane memb er act u al ly from the  l ane  and h ad be en a me mber eve n befo r eRo ger, so  t here w as  no  re asonw hy h e coul dn't mak e dec i sions on his o w n. He was his ow n ma n .

A  ri nging telep hone took  him ou t o f  hisstupo r. He found it strange th at  someo ne wa s calling. Th e only per s o n  with ac cess to the house's ph one n umber wasM ichael S tewar ts, whowas out o f town and  ha d g ive n h i m  t he house to s t a y in  t emporar ily . While  th ing s h eat ed  up in So uthside,  h efi gu red  it b e st to st ay  ou tofreach ,  uptow n.

M icha el  S t ewa rts was ou t of t ow nandmen ti onedhe w o uld  not be  in touch  fo r  a c ou pl e days,  so Lucky won de red why he  w ascallin g .  _He pro bably heard what happen e d in So uth side. _

M oving tothe  phone , h e  answe red.
"Hell o. "
" T hat's y ou , p us sy?!" aske d the  call er .

L ucky' h eart leaped. He au t oma tically recog niz ed t h e  c all e r' s  vo ic e . N e r vously lookingaround, he  w a lk ed to a wi n dow  t o see i f anyon e was outside .

"How d id you ge tthis n umb er?" he as ked, try ing to hi d e his ne rvous nes s.

"D on 'tworry  about tha t. Ho w come  y ou wer en'tin  Southsi de when everybody was d ying?You g otaway, pus sy! " 

" Suck your  mot her, pussy !"
"Y ou'll  so o n bedead ,  m an, "  said  the caller, h a ng ing u p. 

"Hello!"s h o ute d Luc ky. "Hello !"
Realizing the cal l er hung up, he  pla c e d t hep hone  b ack in its cra dle  a n d  began t opace the ro om. Thou gh t s ofall so rts oc cupiedh i sm ind. H e di d n ot know w hat  t o  do.
 on_Charlotte Street._Fortunate victims were taken_out of_yards_on gurneys_and_placed in ambulant_trucks.

"It has been_told to me this_massacre is a_reprisal_for this street's stance against a governing JLP gang in this community," said a_news_reporter.

In a_rage,_Lucky_jumped to his feet and_tossed the television across the_room where_it crashed into a wall shattering into pieces._Falling_back to his_knees, he placed his face in his hands and_sobbed. Charlotte Street's slaughter was his_fault. Had he_not_went_against Roger, no such_thing would have happened.

Roger disowned him_for linking with Errol, but he_saw the move as a significant one_for the betterment of Southside. Furthermore,_he was an original Faucet_Lane member_actually from the lane and_had been a_member even_before Roger, so_there was no reason why he_couldn't make decisions_on his own. He was his_own_man.

A ringing telephone_took_him_out of_his stupor. He_found_it strange_that_someone was calling. The only person_with_access to the house's phone number was_Michael Stewarts, who was_out_of town and had_given him the house to_stay in temporarily. While things heated_up in_Southside, he_figured it best to stay out of reach, uptown.

Michael Stewarts was_out of town and mentioned he_would not be in_touch for_a_couple days, so_Lucky_wondered why_he was calling. _He probably heard what_happened in_Southside._

Moving to the phone, he answered.

"Hello."

"That's_you, pussy?!" asked the_caller.

Lucky'_heart leaped. He automatically recognized the_caller's voice. Nervously looking around, he_walked to a window to_see_if_anyone was outside.

"How did you_get this number?" he asked, trying_to hide his_nervousness.

"Don't worry about that. How come you_weren't_in Southside when everybody was dying?_You_got away, pussy!"

"Suck your mother, pussy!"

"You'll_soon_be_dead, man," said the caller,_hanging up.

"Hello!" shouted Lucky. "Hello!"

Realizing the_caller hung up, he placed the phone back in_its cradle and_began to pace the room._Thoughts_of_all sorts occupied his mind. He did not know what_to do.