text: "When they open the door, I'll swing and you get that shit down in the living room as quickly as possible, got it?" Darren says. I nod weakly, adjusting the huge roll of polyethylene under my arm with my other hand, which is holding a monkey wrench. I can't believe I'm here, about to do this. For my own mother, no less! "Hey Jared, there's something I want you to help Darren with. Get in the car, he'll explain on the way." She tells me. A normal request, if a little vague. I expected something like "we're picking something heavy up," or "some things have to go to the dump." I've never been so wrong in my life. I get in the car with my mom's bodyguard. Not the regular kind, we're not rich by any means. We live in a campsite for crying out loud, eating what food my mom can steal from the food bank! I always wanted to say something about that, but I've learned you don't talk back to the most well known street level crack dealer in the city. That's how she paid Darren, with drugs. The drive is quiet for the first few minutes and I gaze lazily out at the lake. The silence is broken when Darren asks "remember Yvonne and her man, Cameron?" How could I forget? We lived with them for a while. They stole the paintball gun I won in a tournament to pawn for drug money and got rid of our dog when we went to a movie. I didn't really like them. "Yeah," I reply simply. "Well they owe your mom some money and are refusing to pay, so we're going to 'collect' it. Ever heard the phrase 'let the poly hit the floor'?" I hadn't, but between noticing the giant roll of plastic in the back seat and him handing me the wrench, I began to piece together what was going on. So here I stand, a terrified 16 year old trying to understand just what the hell is going on and hoping they're not home. When I see the knob begin turning, however, hope is quickly turned to horror. Darren doesn't wait for any words to be spoken as he kicks the door in, sending Yvonne to the ground. He quickly extends the nightstick he brought and hits her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. "Get that poly down, we're gonna make a little mess here!" He barks at me. I struggle to flatten the plastic, trying to focus more on making it perfect then what's going on around me. After a few seconds Darren is dragging Yvonne onto it as Cameron rushes into the room to see what's going on. He quickly understands the situation and runs towards the small kitchen off to the side where there's a knife block on the counter. "Stop him!" Darren yells at me, and without thinking I bolt towards him and strike him in the back with the wrench as he fumbles to get a knife. He winces, but doesn't stop. He pulls a large chef's knife out and in one motion turns and slashes at me. I've always had pretty good reflexes, but not good enough to evade completely as the blade runs across my chest. The cut isn't deep enough to be fatal however, and adrenaline blocks out the pain as I swing the wrench again, this time at his knee. He goes down, yelping in pain and dropping the knife. I kick it away and Darren pulls Cameron kicking onto the plastic. What happens next is mostly a blur, my mind choosing to blank it all out. I remember hearing Darren threatening them and a consistent thumping, like the beat of the most violent drum. After what seemed like forever, he tries to ask for my help getting them into the trunk of the car, but must notice my pale face and does it himself. He folds the bloodied plastic up and puts it in the backseat as I climb into the passenger seat. We start driving to "dispose" of our ex roommates. I guess we were going to the dump after all. "It's ok, the first time is always hard for everyone. It gets easier, trust me." He says, trying to ease my mind with the promise of more encounters like this. I don't reply and continue to stare out the window. This is the day I became a man, though not the kind I expected to be. Most of the details in this story are true, except the door was never opened so the murder never actually took place, thankfully. This was 9 years ago, and if the door had opened, I probably wouldn't be here today.