Believeland

Prologue

“Please STOP!” a young girl screamed as a man shoved her onto the dusty floor of the old abandoned warehouse on West 4th street. He smiled as he struck her across the face with the back of his hand, a droplet of blood dripped down her cheek.

“Please just shut up my god!” he screamed angrily. “Nobody can hear you here anyways!”

The sound of the traffic jam on Main Street, the construction on East 3rd and the gunshots from the shootout between police and the meth dealers down the road blocked out her screams as the man unzipped his pants and ripped off her shirt. Nobody was coming to help.

An undermanned police force was unable to keep crime in check in the inner-city here. More and more teenagers turned to drugs, alcohol, gangs, and violence. More and more crime spread unchecked, an uncaged beast the government struggled to get a hold on.

And as the government continues to struggle more and more good people become silent victims. Who struggle to tell their stories to anyone out of fear, so they turn to the same drugs and alcohol to drown their sorrow, and the cycle continues forever it seems. Welcome to a land where dreams go to die, and where you can only hope and dream of escape. Welcome to a land of victims and crime. Welcome to the inner cities of America. Welcome to Cleveland.