Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site


Tags: Fight, Gang


Just another one of those days.


Submitted:Nov 8, 2012    Reads: 10    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


"The morning sun shined bright causing all the colors to appear on my lashes. I walked steady listening to my music just like I do every morning. The neighborhood seemed peaceful though I knew it would only last for this brief instance. Soon the gangs would take their corners and the drug deals fights and hard looks would start. I turned the corner and aimed for the front door of my friend's house. I came to the walkway and before I turned I found myself face to face with one of the many local gangstas.

"Do you have it?" he questioned. My lips trembled as I opened my mouth to speak.

"No." I tried to stand still and keep eye contact. I knew I was just as tough as him but I knew I would still lose in a physical confrontation.

"I told you to deal it out. Where is the stuff then?" his eyes grew meaner and his voice grew louder.

"I flushed it." I announced this as stern and direct as I could. I wanted to let him know I was playing anymore. I watched as he raised his fist and threw it forward. However my brain paused. I took the next few seconds before contact to just take in everything.

My town had been separated in a lot of ways. It wasn't just race and money, or beliefs and politics. This was all about how you saw the world. I saw the world in a state of distress, a place that needed to be fixed and renewed. They saw it as a hood haven, a place to deal drugs and hurt people. I'm not saying I'm a goody good or some kind of student council wanna be. They're out there as well but they don't dwell in the violence area as I had been accustomed to and I'm unsure how they see this, I'm me and I've been beaten up by the thugs enough times to know how they felt.

It had been set that only the seniors of the particular year would deal in terms of absolute when it came to ownership of the areas in town. However you sold your soul as soon as you were put in school. You had your gangsta thugs, your straight edge peace keepers, your unaligned twerps mostly the sports kids and finally there was us. Punks, hoods, dirty greasy rebels.

Now honestly the gangsta's and the punks weren't very far apart in terms of what we did. They indulged in alcohol, weed, drugs, women, and violence, and petty crimes including the selling of all except violence to anyone including kids and tried to recruit as many as possible to do the crimes for them. We on the other hand smoked weed and drank from time to time maybe had a few psychedelics here and there but nothing like coke and meth. They had their girls we had ours, and for the most part we didn't fight or rob anyone. We did have our turf fights and we did a little shoplifting but they were getting registers and shooting people. We were snatching dounuts and punching people if we had to.

Anyway the fist brushed my face and sent me to the ground. I stood up quickly no reason to give him free shots while I laid there. I started swinging. I landed a few light hits. They didn't seem to faze him. He swung again and missed me. I went in for an uppercut hoping to slam his jaw enough to knock him down. The front door of my friend's house swung open and he ran down to where we were.

My uppercut landed a direct hit. He fumbled around but didn't seem like he was going down. I lifted my leg and slammed my foot into his gut to drop him the rest of the way. He hit just as hard as I did. His ball cap fell off and rolled to my friend's feet. He picked it up and started laughing as he laid it on his head and pulled his jeans down past his ass.

The dude got to his feet. I noticed something changed. His pride was lost and he resorted so the worst. From behind him he pulled out a snub nose revolver. Pointed it at my dude and squeezed the trigger. My brain paused for the second time. My friend had a look of shook. His eyes glued to the fire and iron racing toward him. The gangsta dude had a cracked grin. My instinct took over, without even realizing it I pulled out my dull pocket knife from my back pocket and had it open. My body jerked forward and I slammed my blade into the thug's neck. I watched as life left his eyes and his grin became nothing but a crease in his face. The bullet shot straight through my friend, into the right side of his chest and out his back. Blood now covered the sidewalk. I let my knife stay put stabbed into the flesh like the sword in the stone. It wasn't long before the police would arrive. I stayed still just looking at both lifeless bodies watching the last fifteen minutes replay in my head.

A neighbor had heard the gun go off and called the boys in blue to help the boys covered in red. It was a long time I stood there and talked. The paramedics came and picked up the bodies. I was eventually cuffed and taken to a cozy hole in the wall with the bars and bucket. I laid in the bed and just watched it all over and over. I didn't move didn't even make noise except for the light sighs here and there. A day came and went sadly it had been Saturday and there wasn't court on Sundays. I ate little of what they gave me and didn't talk at all."

Finally Monday came and I was pushed into a court room, sitting in the pew like benches was my parents my friends parents and the parents of the other guy. A jury had been gathered, the prosecution and the lawyers. The judged looked unenthusiastic. He looked at me; a sigh was the first thing I heard.

"Tell me what happed." He commanded, simply skipping over the pleasantries. I looked at my parents. My mother was in tears, as well as my friend's mother. My dad only inhaled deeply, giving me a look of understanding yet uncertainness.

I started. "The morning sun shined bright causing all the colors to appear on my lashes."





0

| Email this story Email this Short story | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.