When I was 17 I went to stay at my uncle’s house. He lived in a mostly black neighborhood but people were friendly enough and I felt pretty at ease there as a white teenager. One night I went to the shop to get a drink and on my way back this black dude started following me. I looked over at him, he was creeping me out and then I just had this gut instinct and decided to run.
I thought I’d managed to lose him, but this guy suddenly reappeared. I realized I’d have to stand my ground (as my Dad had taught me) and so I punched him in the face (always get that first punch in). That stunned him but this black guy came back at me and a full-on fight started.
After grappling on the wet ground (it was raining) I managed
View original post 413 more words