Growing up in the projects

So at ten years old we moved into the projects, before that we had lived in a 500 square foot metal box,also known as a trailor. Where the pipes, and you froze in the winter, and the candles, and you melted in the summer. That old trailor was also at the end of a country road and there were no other children around it was so lonely for me. In the projects there were kids everywhere, of all ages. Since my mother was about the only person that worked in the whole place I was considered the rich kid even though I am sure my mother made less than many of those people drew each month. I loved the apartement it seemed so luxurious to me it was so much nicer than anything I had ever dreamed I could live in. I didn't really understand all the stigma of living in the projects, but I knew it was for poor people, but I didn't care I was living large.
Of course never getting to be around other children and now having all these kids around I wanted to make friends, my mother wouldn't hear of it though. She wanted me to have nothing to do with any of them. Looking back now I understand because they were all the products of dope fiends and harlots but I had no one else. Children need friends, for that matter grown ups need friends too. Everyone needs someone. For me that has been elusive my whole life so maybe that is why I understand the need for it more. Now of course not all the kids were gang members or strung out. There was some fairly decent kids and those were the ones that I wanted to hang out with I had no desire to hang out with the rough kids. Truth was I was scared of the rough kids. There was one guy in particular I was terrified of His name was well, I don't know what his real name was we all just called him Bubba. His family was the worst in the projects they were always fighting and drinking but everyone was too afraid to report them cause they had a lot of family there. Bubba was mean, he carried a knife with him everywhere he went and we all knew it.He scared us kids half to death. I was friends with his little cousin Jason who wasn't a bad kid he was like me too scared to do much. So Bubba kind of left me alone because of my friendship with his cousin, but that also meant if me and Jason was playing he would but in if he saw us. I hated when that happened because Bubba was a pervert, he would tell us all about his sexual encounters with the neighborhood skanks and he was always pulling his pants down and showing himself off which was very intimidating for kid under twelve!
All in all though I loved, absolutely loved living there. I was beginning to have somewhat of a life. I started getting to go to the pool and skating. I had some girlfriends and mom started buying me some nice clothes and I was becoming a teenager it seemed as though my life had finally turned a corner. I was happy for the first time in my young life. Even though me and mom fought on a daily basis and I was daily cussed and had begun to yell back and even grab my mother and push her to keep her from hitting me (I had just made up my mind that I wasn't going to take it anymore) I was still happy because after you go through that so much you just don't let it bother you anymore you just go numb to it all I guess. Little did I know though that my world was about to crash all around me.