Suburbian Gangstas

I live in a huge suburban neighborhood. All of my life I disliked how similar everything was and how perfect it all seemed, but recently I have realized that maybe it wasn't so horrible.

I love nighttime walks with my dog. I have one of the three biggest yards in the entire neighborhood; my front yard is an acre in itself. I love being outside at night, especially at this time of the year when the weather is starting to get nice and the sky is becoming clear enough to see the stars. Lately though, I have been too afraid to stand outside for long.

(I live in a neighborhood that is actually made up of three neighborhoods; my side is the "older" side. I mean that literally. Most of its population consists of people aged 70-years-old or more. The entire subdivision connects like a puzzle; the only way you know you have changed places is by house designs.)

In the center of my neighborhood is one of the county's best parks, and even in my senior of highschool, my friends and I still enjoy going there just to relax. We even use to go there at night just to goof off and play lava tag, but we can't anymore. There's a problem and the city has decided to solve this newly risen problem at the park by putting guard dogs to watch it at night.

I discovered the problem about a month ago when I went up to the park to take some photos for fun. I hadn't been there in a while since I'd been kept so busy with church and school stuff, so I had no clue about what was coming. I arrived at the playground and noticed that one of the trashcans had fallen over. I figured the racoons had gotten to it until I walked around the side of the stairs nearby and saw something I never expected to see in my neighborhood. There was graffitti on the wall that read "Ghost." Sudenly, I realized that the perfect little neighborhood I thought we had wasn't so bad.
I walked up the stairs with little kids around me smiling and screaming, "You're it," running in the opposite direction. I got to the "big kid" portion of the park and was once again amazed when I looked over to see a little kid, around the age of three, coming down the slide, newly spray-painted with flames. He smiled at me and went for another round. I looked to my left to see yet, more graffitti painted on one of the poles. I remembered my friends and I climbing that pole when we were younger, and realized once again - maybe it wasn't so bad.
I was leaving the park, having taken a few pictures of these things that I still couldn't believe were there. As I walked past the toddler portion of the playground, I saw yet, more vandalism. This time it was a picture of a fist with red paint all around it. I didn't understand why it had to be there. I looked over at a young couple pushing their child on a swing and began to think of how that child wouldn't even have the chance to take those long walks like I used to. I kept walking home, hoping to get away from it all.

But it didn't stop at the park.

My grandparents live right up the street from me, So I frequently go visit them at night after I get home from work. I park in the church lot next to their house and walk over. One night, a few weeks after the park tragedy, I parked my car in the church lot, stepped out and locked my door. When I turned toward my grandparents house I almost screamed. At the corner of the house was a group of about five kids dressed in baggy clothes. I didn't take the time to figure out what they where doing. I just ran to my grandma's front door. She didn't want me to be outside either. She informed me that the kids met there at least once a week and lately their visits had become more frequent. I am not quite sure of what they do, but I don't like the thought of them being in front of my grandparents house so often. I now run home from my grandma's house instead of taking the long walks I loved so much. I now carry a flashlight in my purse at all times. I miss our neighborhood's past.
I am unsure of where this neighborhood is going. I am unsure of what these people's intentions are. I just don't see the point in any of it. If they think it makes them cool to graffitti our beautiful park, or if they think they are hardcore, becuase they hang out on street corners at night, they're wrong. Don't they see? This is the suburbs; they are not that "hardcore?" Do they have "convos" with their buddies?
"Dude, look! I stole my neighbors lawn gnome last night!" Or are their intentions greater than that?

They are, what I like to call, Suburban Gangstas.