Through the doorframe, I could see him sitting on the bathroom floor. Curled up against the wall, hugging his knees. 

I approached him and noticed the burnt up cigarettes on the floor. He had smoked at least a package and the smell still lingered, even with the window open. 

I sat down next to him and he looked up. His bloodshot eyes met mine and they filled with tears, slowly running down the trail that had been left from previous...

There had never been a brown boy on their streets before.

So when he ran past the million-dollar villas and the expensive sports cars along with their white teenage neighbor, they were bound to look.

As their clapping flip flops hit the asphalt, the curtains opened.

As they crossed the football field, the wives had joined their husbands.

As they took off their shirts, the whole family looked through the windows.

And as he slipped on the wooden jetty, and...