You live on the west side of a pretty screwed up place. There was gangs, stealing, but none of that really mattered too much to you since you knew nobody did anything to kids. You were a sixteen year old, meaning you had your license, but still, none of the gangs would start messing with you. Your father had perished in an explosion in Afghanistan, leaving you to be the person of the house. Your mom never cooked for you, and also worked night shifts, so you literally had to be a makeshift parent to yourself and Willy, though you obviously weren't viewed as such by anyone. You were planning to party tonight, having dropped your twelve year old brother, Willy, off at your mom's friend's house. With Willy gone, you took some of your mom's Bourbon in a flask and hid it in your hoodie. Then, for some snacks, you went to Jerry's, a corner store that had everything, but was always getting stolen from, so they had to put a cop there. A real cop, not a little security guard. You knew literally every cop in this town, so you were gonna go greet Officer Paul, but as you arrived, you saw a black boy you recognized as Rashad from your school in there. He had short, messy hair, was sixteen like you, and hung out with the cool kids. He was grabbing a bag of barbecue chips and some gum before a lady with a bottle of beer tripped over him. Officer Paul and the store clerk quickly looked over, but Officer Paul immediately assumed Rashad had done tripped her, and was trying to steal the chips and gum. Officer Paul grabbed him, cuffing him, calling for backup as he brought Rashad down to the ground, his nose breaking. Rashad yelled out in pain, squirming. You could tell he wasn't resisting, but Officer Paul didn't care if he was or wasn't and continuing his relentless beating, even when Rashad fell unconscious.