by Mike Amius
The fresh sent of pine and the feeling of Florida’s tropical
breeze has represented a bunch of different meanings to me all throughout my
life. At times it symbolized freedom when I stepped outside and ventured my
large neighborhood. Other times it represented terror as I ran away from loose
hounds. As my life progressed however, things became less censored and the area
in which I grew up in has slowly become tainted by the harsh realities of the outside
world.
It hit me hard, I couldn’t exactly grasp the sensational
that oozed out of my body. My hands trembling with excitement, the sun stinging
my oily complexion. This was something I grew accustomed to and also something
I never truly appreciated. Stepping outside was always a treat, I never knew
what to expect. In my youth, it almost felt like I was unwrapping gifts from
underneath a Christmas tree when I stepped outside – both feelings mutual. My
friends would wiz by my sight racing on their new mountain bikes to see which
of theirs was faster. Nowadays, those kids are escaping trouble, zipping
through the neighborhood on bikes they stole from a few doors down. A sight I
once took for granted, will never appear the same in my eyes and the eyes of
others.
Being a product of my environment was never something I took
with a grain of salt. My environment was carefree and perfect in my young eyes,
trouble didn’t have the same definition to me as it does today. It’s easy to
look at my past mistakes and wish I didn’t make them. Getting caught for
sneaking an extra donut in my room form the kitchen seemed like the ultimate
crime compared to my perception of trouble today. In my neighborhood, trouble
is represented by a full block shutdown to capture and lock away murderers to
rot in a cold cell for eternity or kids getting locked away for grand theft.
This transformation donned on me as I got older and sadly it is something I
have grown used.
The transformation of the area I grew up in has caught me by
surprise. Think of it like a movie with no happy ending, the beginning is
innocent and hopeful, then the tragedy happens, the end. There's no sequels or
redos, life doesn't provide that option to its viewers. The summers have become
vacant and colder compared to when I was younger. My neighborhood used to have
volume and life, instead the streets are empty. Empty of people but filled with
a decrease in the air that is almost unavoidable to breathe in, violence. Those
who I grew up with have found better means of living and others earned their
way behind bars.
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