Blood and Dirt
“You don’t mess with this nigga!” Twenty-foot archaic ceilings and colorfully painted walls echoed curses and expletives as fists flew and blood dripped. Rough-hewn floorboards rattled and announced the chaos to the frightened volunteers in the basement below as bodies hit the floor, hands and fists reaching to bloody his face again. Furniture was violently displaced as the brawl moved across the floor. He screamed as he fought to free himself from the grip of eight furious teenagers. Sweat, dirt, and blood were smeared across the floor and passed from person to person as fists and teeth made contact with already bruised and battered skin. No one knew his name, but we all knew that he had changed the history of this place forever. * * * * * ...