"Now class, don't forget that you have to write your memoirs by next Friday," said Ms. Duffy. Ms. Duffy is a rather young teacher who seems extremely nice. She has short brown hair, and always carries around a black North Face backpack just like the students. Her problem is that she assigns lots of homework and does not realize that there are classes other than English that also give homework.
"Ugh," I muttered.

"Jeremy, what did you just say?" she asked inquisitively.

"Nothing," I quickly replied.

Then a miracle happened as I was saved by the “ring, ding, ding,” of the bell.

Ms. Duffy said, "Don't forget to start writing your memoirs." A knot formed in my stomach as I ran out of the class thinking about all of my work.

I walked down the maroon staircase and out the door of the school and met up with my friend Daniel. As he saw me he said, "Yo, guess what, I'm getting Red October Yeezy shoes, dude. If you want you can come to the Bronx and get a pair too. My parents are out of town and they won’t even know I was gone. You can tell your parents you’re hanging out with me. The best part is that this guy is giving the kicks to me for retail price."

Yeezys are the most coveted sneakers, so it sounded too good to be true. "Whoa, who’s this guy? And the Bronx?" I asked Daniel. Daniel sometimes makes bad decisions, especially when it comes to sneakers. One time a kid at Riverdale tricked him into paying $800 for a pair of sneakers that was not worth even close to that amount and that was two years of saved up allowance. So now I am a bit nervous about what he got himself into.

Daniel responded, "It's my bro Snoop Dog, I met him on Facebook."

"You’re going to fork over your allowance to a Snoop Dog impersonator for a pair of Yeezys that are probably fake? You don’t even know the guy's name! For all we know he could be a serial killer who is luring an unsuspecting kid, into a trap!"
“Jeremy, you're such a chicken," Daniel teased, "too afraid to go to the Bronx and get Yeezys from Snoopy."

"I'm not a chicken, it's just I have a huge memoir that I have to write for English class and I have no good ideas for a story anyways. I have never done anything worth writing about!” I stressfully replied. The truth was I was a little bit chicken about going to the Bronx. "Dude, I gotta go, see ya," I said turning around.

Daniel muttered, “Chicken,” just loud enough so I could hear him.
I paid him no attention and walked to the 86th Street crosstown bus to go home and work on my memoir.




*
*
*


The next day I was at my desk again brainstorming ideas for my memoir and I was taking little breaks to periodically call Daniel to see what happened with Snoop Dog, but Daniel didn’t answer. By now Daniel should have been home from his Yeezys excursion. Was he ignoring me because I didn't go with him, or did something bad happen to him? I was starting to hyperventilate and get nervous. How can I find out where he went? If he was kidnapped, I’d be the only person who knew where he had gone. "I have to do some research," I thought to myself, "Daniel said that he met this guy on Facebook, so that's where I'll look first.” I booted up my computer and saw the familiar white apple and the spinning circle underneath as I listened to the whirring of the computers internal fans. I logged onto Facebook and then searched Snoop Dog. There were exactly seventy-three of the imposters and fifteen of them had Yeezys for sale. Weird! I decided to figure out which guy was from the Bronx. I found the guy, but the profile picture was just of a pair of Yeezys. I then made a fake account on Facebook and sent him a message about buying a pair of Yeezys. He replied that he wanted to meet tomorrow in the Bronx a few blocks away from Yankee Stadium at 8 pm.


I told my parents that I was going to Daniel's house. I then walked to the four train to Yankee Stadium and I saw some conspicuous people get on and off. For the most part, no one messed with me, and I considered it to be good luck. I got off at Yankee Stadium and walked down the stairs. It was dark out, which made me a little nervous. Yet I kept on going, determined to find my friend. I walked three blocks and then made a right. Then I saw the guy who had to be “Snoop Dog” three blocks away, standing near a bench. I jumped right back and hid around the corner. Snoop Dog was 6'3”, bald, black, and extremely muscular. He had a crooked nose that looked like it was broken many times from boxing injuries. He was holding a Nike bag with a square shaped box inside. He kept on checking his watch as he started to get impatient. Then out of the blue he shouted, "shoot" and punched the wall. His fist started to bleed and he let out a torrent of curse words and started to walk my way. I peeked around the corner and saw him walking toward me and pushed myself against the wall. I held my breath and watched him walk right by me. The pain in his hand was making him careless and luckily he did not notice me. I followed him for three blocks and then he walked up to a restaurant called Wang’s Chinese and lifted their outdoor cellar basement door. A few minutes after he disappeared I finally worked up enough courage to follow him inside.


It was dark, smelled like a sewer, and was a mess. I even saw a crow bar at the entrance. Then I heard a scream of pain, a kid’s scream. Could it be Daniel? "Shut up kid," yelled Snoop, "you better be quiet if you want to live a few extra days. Your organs will be quite valuable. I could probably make around five million dollars off of them if I get some good deals." Then Snoop kicked the miserable kid again. I stayed hiding right behind the door for a few moments after I stopped hearing Snoop hurt the kid and then I peeked through the door and saw that it was Daniel, and he was praying and crying. I didn't even know Daniel had a religion. I started stealthily creeping towards him, hoping not to disturb Snoop Dog in the other room. I had never been so scared in my life, but I wasn't going to back out now that my best friend was in fear of his life. Then Daniel noticed me and I put my finger to my lips, silencing him. I walked over and started to try and untie the ropes. After an eternity of struggling, it finally came loose.


“We gotta go right now,” Daniel whispered urgently, pulling off the rope.


“Ok, let’s go,” I whispered back. I started walking and looked back at Daniel limping along behind me. He was injured. I walked back to him and started to help him walk. We had just walked out the door as Snoop Dog emerged from the other room and screamed, "Where the hell are you? Come back right now."


Then the idea came to me. "We are going to be fine, just pretend that you fell down and can’t walk,” I whispered to Daniel.


Gasping for breath, Daniel quipped ironically, "That won't be hard.” I put him on the floor and ran back to the entrance of the cellar. I picked up the crow bar and stealthily walked back in time to see Snoop Dog dragging the struggling Daniel back into the other room to tie him up. As Snoop Dog was tying Daniel up, Daniel gave me a weak smile. That was just what I needed and I aggressively rushed forward and put everything I had into one swing at Snoop Dog. Before he could turn, the bang of metal against skull was loudly heard throughout the room. He collapsed to the floor and I hit him over and over and over again. Daniel said, "Thanks, I wouldn't have been alive now if you hadn't come, you were definitely right about these Yeezys."


"No problem Daniel, now I have a story to write for my English memoir, and even better, I don’t think that our pal Snoop Dog here was lying about owning the Yeezys. I think I see some boxes of Nike shoes in the other room. It might just be