Actually, No

What I didn't say: after my conversation with Claudia, when I stepped into the elevator, everything went black. Total darkness, for at least five seconds. I can't explain whether it was the lights or my eyes, but I was blind, and I took it as a sign. If I chose that road, my life would be dark. More than once, things have happened to me that I can't explain. I dreamed I get a job 3 months before I get it. Another time, I was walking down the street with my earbuds in, and for no reason I turned my head, saw a car coming, and pulled my little brother back just in time. It was my one chance to take my life back into my own hands. I won't tell you what became of Claudia. Part of my nightmare came from what she lived. I won't say more, but she is at peace today. Sometimes, knowing I come from the ghetto, when I pass by the projects and see young Black girls selling their bodies or dealing, I tell myself it could have been me if I had said yes, even once. Once the gears of easy money catch you, they turn so fast, and it's so tempting, that you quickly forget the danger. Not a day goes by without a young person getting hurt or dying from a bullet because of the drug trade. Thank God I never got into it. That's why, since I left the projects, I only go back once in a while. I'm afraid of what I would have become if I had stayed in that place. Don't get me wrong, there are beautiful people living there—most of them, actually—and only a few make our lives miserable. I have nice memories of my childhood, but the older I got, the more I realized that the body on the street wasn't fake, the syringe left on the ground wasn't a mistake by some nurse or doctor, and the guy who came back after two years hadn't been on vacation. He'd been in jail. Reality hurts. If my Echo can keep some of them out, or give hope to others, then my echo will have served a purpose.