"Fuck," I whispered as I examined the flat tire I had. I had pulled off the highway to the closest neighborhood knowing my car wasn't riding right and knowing I would need more light than the highway provided. However, upon entering I already knew I ended up in the wrong neighborhood, but there was no way my car could make it any further. This was a neighborhood of Latinx and our sides didn't mix with all the killings and problems going on between them and us. I quickly popped open the trunk and I pulled out my spare, thankful that my dad taught me how to change a tire before his passing.

I parked under one of the street lights, giving me the lighting I needed to change the tire as the sun had already went down. I grabbed my jack as I bent down towards the tire that needed changing. "Ain't you in the wrong neighborhood?" I jumped as I was startled by the deep voice, I turned around meeting eyes with Jose, ring leader of the Latinos gang. He stood a little over six feet tall, I took him in, his olive skin glistening with tattoo's dancing all over his right arm as if his body was a canvas. His naturally long curly hair sitting on top of his head in a bun with a black bandana wrapped around his head. His hazel eyes bore into me as he stood there with his arms crossed, looking at me with what looked like pure hate. I stood up, facing him my five foot three frame not even coming close to his. I licked my lips as I pointed to my tire, "I got a flat, just changing it."

"Couldn't change it somewhere else?" He had serious attitude in his voice.

"If I could have don't you think I would've?" I shot back. The last place I wanted to be was in this neighborhood with a flat.

He stepped closer to me as his arms dropped, allowing me to get a swift of the body wash he used. "Who the fuck is you getting smart with?"

The regular me wanted to pop back, but I had to think about the situation I was in. Our communities were on some tic for tac shit. If the Latinos killed two of ours, ours killed three of theirs, so the number of killings increased like crazy; the shit was ridiculous and the killings in our city were at all time high because of it. I knew if he wanted to he could pop me right now, I was the perfect target. Black and in their territory, I was basically asking for it.

I readjusted my attitude, "I'm just saying," I began in a calm voice, "this was my only option. I can't drive like this" I was literally parked at the beginning of the neighborhood, it's not like I was in the dead center of it.

He looked me up and down, his stare making me self-conscious. I smoothed down my Brazilian body wave hair as I waited for him to say something. A few seconds went by and nothing was said still. "Okay," I began as I turned back around, bending down to finish what I was doing. "I'll finish this up and be on my way."

"Move," his deep voice demanded.

I turned my head, looking at him, "what?"

"Move" he said again.

I stood up, my eyebrows scrunched in as confusion was on my face.

He bent down, taking my place, "I know how to change a tire" I chimed in.

"Congratulations," he mocked.

I rolled my eyes as I watched him change my tire a lot quicker than I would have. He finished and threw my flat in the trunk, "hurry up and get the fuck out of here."

I just stared at him stuck for a minute, his eyes burning into mine. "Go!" he roared. I opened my car door, getting in, stopping halfway to turn around and face him, "Thank you." He nodded as he crossed his arms, shooing for me to leave. 

I drove off, looking in my rearview mirror as I saw more guys coming outside, black bandana's all around, completely understanding the reason he rushed me to go, but not understanding why he let me go.