After I indulged in breakfast, I sat down in our lush garden whilst my family resolved the issue of what to do on this amiable day. Decision, decisions, decisions! Finally we decided to do to Markeaton Park. Unfortunately, my mother couldn’t come as she had to go to work so it would just be my father, two sisters and I. Then my father had the idea of inviting my aunt and two cousin’s weather they would like to accompany us. They agreed. Even though we knew that Markeaton Park would be overflowing with people on a Saturday. We didn’t let that deter us.
As well as my grandparents, my aunt and her two children also resided in Normanton. Normanton was equivalent of the South Bronx in New York. It was a region where all people of diverse origins inhabited. As you can imagine a large number of them did not get along with each other. This caused brutality, assaults and discrimination amongst the residents of Normanton. The streets were congested with debris. Most houses were debilitated and in atrocious conditions. When you heard the word Normanton, you certainly did not expect a nirvana.
Our Volkswagen Touran drove through Normanton and picked up the remaining passengers. The xenon lights shone brightly in front of us, giving the information required for our route ahead. The RS4 alloy wheels gleamed like the blade of a knife! The tinted windows were as black as midnight on a moonless night.
At the base of Silver Hill Road, we joined lower dale road. My father looked right cautiously to examine any traffic, and then left. On the left, there was a feud between a cluster of white people who were standing outside Sure Start ursery and some foreigners across the road. Neither of them held any weapons other than their mouths since they had so much to say, apart from a man with a baseball bat. Father drove along the road and everything seemed fine. BANG! The baseball bat hit our windscreen and damaged it. All of a sudden I had an adrenalin rush. “Hold it”, my father said to the hoodlum as he got out of the car. The guys face turned absolutely red. He was scared. This showed everyone just how much of a tough guy he was. He ran off up Church Street; father chased after him and another followed.
My heart was pounding frantically in my chest as if it was about to explode. Beads of sweat an down my forehead. The palms of my hands became clammy and perspiration ran down back. The man in charge of the other group came running in our direction.i became terrified. He got to our car and told me to park it on the curb. I felt relieved, knowing he wanted to help me and not kill me. I can’t drive man, I shot back at him. Besides, there were no keys in the ignition. My father must have taken them.
