I felt anxious, suddenly, and very threatened. I didn’t know what to do. It was the month of September and I had never felt so lonely. Actually I wasn’t friendly so I had no friends just me and myself.

I was born and raised in Gauteng in a township called Daveyton on the 27th of September 1998. My parents used to tell me childhood stories and silly things I did but that’s all in the past. I am now talking in a different future.

I grew up in a poor family. My mom and dad were strong; they took pride in me so they did whatever they could to keep me happy because I was the last born. Friends were my enemies and paper was my friend.

Nothing is impossible; everything is possible, that’s what I believed in as a teenager. I grew confident and I started being friends with older dudes. They used to tell me I was a hunk and I loved the attention that I would hang out with them often. They were involved in substance abuse and as time went on, I slowly started getting involved in substance abuse.

I remember last year doing Grade nine, my mother said “If you play with dirty you also become dirty.”

She must’ve noticed some changes in me that I couldn’t see. But I just shrugged off her words and carried on with my life. I couldn’t see what I was doing wrong. I thought it was very good. But then everything started to change; my face, body and voice changed. That was when I knew I was now a man.

My friends loved to rap. They dreamt of becoming musicians and that’s what made me to become their friends with them. We had music in common.

Every day after school I would go and check on this guy, Sam, who stayed close to me and could spit crazy rhymes.

“Hey homie what’s up?” greeted Sam. He was carrying a bucket full of dagga.

Sam was a bully who used to sell dagga to the ones who smoked at school. He was caught many times but that never stopped him.

“Awe, awe,” I replied.

“How about we hit one slope of my new stuff called ganja?” he was standing in front of the door, on top of a black stoep.

“Sure,” I said.

“I have a ghetto in the back yard, wait for a minute,” said Sam. He went in to take the key from the RDP and I was patiently waiting for him in the back yard. We went in and we sat, he took the container where he stored the dagga stock money.

“Frank, you’re my homie, go and buy four RGs to mix with because it’s too strong,” he said.

I went running to an Indian tuck shop called paradise to buy RG cigarettes. I was excited when I got to the shop and quickly ordered. As I was waiting for my RGs Mr Pillay popped in he greeted. He was my next door neighbour and he didn’t get along with my dad. I was in trouble now.

***

Tell us what you think: What do you think Frank will do now?”