Prologue: Trash

The night was dark, a perfect cover for Jordan’s buy. The narrow alley, illuminated only by the flickering glow of a distant streetlight, was his chosen venue for tonight’s transaction. Shadows clung to the walls, the stench of rotting garbage thick in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of urine. He adjusted his hoodie, pulling it lower over his face as he approached the silhouette waiting for him.

“Yo, you Jordan?” The figure’s voice was a low rumble, edged with impatience.

“Yeah,” Jordan muttered, shifting uneasily. He didn’t trust the dark, and he trusted strangers in it even less. But he’d made this call—this was on him.

The dealer stepped forward, holding out a small, grimy baggie. “Hundie.”

Jordan dug into his pocket and handed over a crumpled bill. His eyes flicked to the bag. “This better be good.”

The dealer grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. “Top-notch, man. You’ll be flying.”

Just as Jordan reached for the bag, a sudden beam of light cut through the darkness, blinding him. His pulse spiked. Then came the unmistakable crackle of a police radio.

“Hey! Both of you, stay where you are!”

Panic surged through him. The dealer shoved Jordan hard, using him as a human shield. “Move, damn it!”

Jordan twisted away just in time, sending the dealer stumbling. “Screw you!” he spat before bolting.

Adrenaline fueled his legs as he sprinted down the alley, vaulting over a fence at the end. The dealer cursed behind him, and the sounds of pursuit grew louder.

“Stop! Police!”

Jordan didn’t dare look back. He dodged between trash cans, kicked off a dumpster, and cleared a parked car in a frantic escape. His breath was ragged, his lungs burning. Then he spotted it—a dumpster with its lid slightly open.

Without thinking, he dove in.

The smell was instant and overwhelming, a rancid mix of decaying food and something worse. He gagged, sinking deeper into the refuse, covering himself with scraps and filth. His breath came in shallow gasps as he listened.

Footsteps. Voices. Radios.

“Shots fired, officer needs assistance! Suspect is down!”

Jordan’s stomach dropped. The dealer had been shot.

“This is a crime scene now. Search for any other suspects.”

The dumpster lid lifted slightly. Jordan didn’t breathe. The officer hesitated, then let it drop.

Time stretched, every second an eternity. His body ached from being curled up, exhaustion clawing at him. His mind drifted.

His family always saw him as a screw-up. A misfit. Trash.

Now, he was literally lying in it.

As dawn’s first light seeped through the cracks of the dumpster, Jordan’s last thought before sleep took him was bitterly ironic.

Maybe they were right.