It was a vigorous downpour in the New Sacramento ghetto. Water flooded the street gutters; the barrage of rain against the pavement and homes alike. In one particular street and in one particular home the rain seemed to come down even harder.

The home, if you could call it as such had its old yellow paint peeling off the walls. The boards and window panes out-of-place and in terrible condition. The interior of the home raged with a disorder. Garbage cluttered everywhere coupled with the thick musk of a smoke permeated the atmosphere.

   Past the living room was a somber little hallway with a bedroom and a bathroom on the left and right. The house was entirely vacant except for the small room on the left. The occupant of the filthy room was none other than a little boy, draped in clothes rags. The boy often took this time of solace to gaze through his shaggy black hair at the moon from the little window that was just out of reach. His peace was abruptly disturbed by the arrival of his "parents".

   From the other side of the door he could hear his parents excited chatter. "Get dat lil shit out from his room! I wanna see what this shit does," his father ordered his mother from the living room.

A sense of dread welled up inside the boy as he clutched his thin arms, riddled with bruised and unsightly needle marks from the other drugs they "tested" on him. Hearing his mother stomping down the hallway he desperately attempted to hide under the bed.

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   His mother slammed open the door to witness the sight of him attempting to hide. Rage clouded her face as she yanked him out from under the bed and held him by his hair. "Tryna hide boy?"–She slapped him across the face viciously splitting his lip–"After all we done for ya keepin ya clothed and fed, and ya can't test a lil ole drug?" she angrily spit out.

   The boy groaned and attempted to speak but wasn't able to form any words, mute from years of stress and fear. "Nuff of ya groaning and moaning ya dumb mute! how did I have such a useless boy?!" she raged. She yanked him roughly out of his room and to the living room. His mother threw him into the wall, both parents grinning at his pained yelp.

   His father held up a syringe with a clear liquid inside, as he lumbered towards the boy with a large grin adorning his face. "Now hold still boy you wouldn't want to make daddy angry now would you?”

The boy froze in fear as his father gripped his arm, pressing the needle deep under his skin. The boy shrieked in pain from the needle going through the tense muscle, his father's grin spread even wider as a result. The liquid rushed into his veins taking on a deep blue color as it rapidly spread throughout his body.

"Oh boy, I ain’t never seen a drug like this." his father laughed. His laugh cut short as the boy began to violently spasm on the floor, all the veins in his body tinged a deep blue creating a disturbing appearance.

*Gurgle* the boy started to foam at the mouth his saliva tinged with blood. "What in da hell is this, this ain't the kinda shit I'm about." his father's face blanched. Glad he didn't take the drug himself. "Darlin dump the rest of this shit down the sink, no way in hell I'm takin this." he handed the drugs to his wife who hurriedly dumped them down the sink.

"Damn! Knew something was fishy when they just handed it to us. Just leave the kid if he dies we'll just get rid of him." his father sighed. They went to their bedroom to retire for the night. Leaving the small boy to continue to writhe on the floor.

The boy started to lose consciousness, the world was getting darker by the second. ‘Why,' he asked himself, ‘What did I do that they hate me so?' As these last fleeting thoughts went through his psyche the world went dark.