Diary Of A Street Hustler....By Derrick Fleming

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A fast life of crime and hustling finally catch up to Leon Jackson as he is apprehended by police after of years of being in the drug game.

Submitted: February 10, 2010

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Submitted: February 10, 2010

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Growing up in South Carolina,I never imagined that I would be standing on a street corner surrounded by pimps,hustlers,and a bunch of runaway kids with big dreams. Often times,I would think about the lectures that my grandmother used to give me when I was fifteen. My grandmother always expressed the value of a good education and hard work. Like every young and rebellious black kid growing up,I never listened. My grandmother was talking a language that I felt was foreign. I was more interested in what "Too Short" or "Biggie Smalls" had to say. These men were like me. They were young,black,and had a story to tell. Sometimes I would sit in a corner and "cry" when I think about how my grandmother was no longer alive. When she died,I felt as if I were so alone. My mother was strung out on crack cocaine,and I never knew my biological father. The only consistent men that I saw in my life,were the vast array of men that my mother was dating. I could never really figure out if these men were boyfriends or "dealers",but none of these men ever introduced themselves or acknowledged that I was around. So now,many years later,I have found myself standing on a busy street corner and trying my best to avoid law enforcement. I just completed a two year sentence at Rikers Island for possession with the "intent to distribute". My girlfriend Lisa,is now pregnant with my second son little Damon. In my heart,I know that I have to provide a better life for my two sons and my girl Lisa. Unfortunately,I now have two strikes,and I am not sure of what the future holds for me. Their are only a few things that are for certain to me at this time of my life. I am Leon Jackson,a young,uneducated,black male with a criminal history that is extensive. On the streets of Brooklyn New York,my story is not uncommon. Just like me,many of my homeboys on the streets have been involved in the drug game since they were knee-high. Many people judge and shake their heads in disappoval when they see us,but the sad part is that most of these people didn't face the unfortunate circumstances that life had presented us with. The reality is that young black men like myself have given up on the prospect of a good life. In my world "survival" by any means is a reality that I face on a daily basis. As I walk down the streets of a cold and very impersonal city,I look at the many homeless and bearded old men who lay in the streets while holding on tightly to a bottle of liquor or a beer. The Bible speaks of a place called "hell" and I am sure that for many of these men and women on the streets of New York,that they are already residing in this place. My mind often thinks deep,but then I immediately return to survival mode. I see a very luxurious black SUV pull up beside me. I hate when customers have tinted windows. As the windows slowly roll down,I see the face of a very large white male. He is looking at me as if I am supposed to recognize him. I also notice that he has a very attractive blonde woman in the passenger seat of the truck. One of the things that has always amazed me about being in the drug game,is the type of people that will buy this stuff. I have heard stories of politicians,athletes,entertainers, and even cops who get high. This particular gentleman was definitely a "somebody". I had seen him on television or in a magazine. Maybe he was a cop. Maybe he thought I was someone else. The point is,I didn't have a good feeling about this man who slightly resembled "St Nick". "Whats up?",he replied. I acted as if I did not hear him. With a devious smile he just stared at me. I immediately began to walk away from the corner where he was parked. This guy was probably a cop and his little blonde girlfriend was just a "cover". He immediately got out of the truck and began to follow me. I did not understand what was going on. "I need to talk to you Leon",he said. "About what?",I replied,as I started to add speed to my stride. Before I knew it,this man was actually chasing me and looked as if he had a "gun" in his right hand. I did not understand what was going on. This was one of the reasons that I knew that it was time for me to get out of the drug game. I was tired of worrying about undercover cops or things like this happening. After I had been running for about five minutes,I had come to a busy intersection. Maybe I had actually managed to lose this guy. Who was he? Why did he want to talk to me? Was that a gun he was carrying? All these questions raced through my mind as I made my way over to a empty park bench. This was just what I needed. I needed time to sit and figure this out. As I sat alone in the park,I noticed the birds flying around and eating the scraps of food that were on the ground. Admiring their grace,I must admit that I was a bit jealous of their freedom. Unlike me,these birds had no real worries. The lived a life of peace and freedom. My life was filled with worry,crime,and uncertainty. As I continued to sit in the park,I began to get sleepy. I had been up all night trying to make money,and I was exhausted. Then my cellphone rang. It was Lisa. This woman was truly a blessing. My grandmother always said that there was nothing like a "good" woman. Lisa was the true definition of a good woman. Not only was she smart and sexy,but for some odd reason,she was in love with me. Her parents were wealthy,and she never really spent time with them. They were always on business trips or at some social function. I was definitely not there idea of a "great " guy for there daughter,but they tolerated me. Mr Franklin,Lisa's dad,offered me a job at his law firm,but I declined. How was I going to fit in with a bunch of "snooty" lawyers all day? I was not willing to cut off my "dreadlocks" just to work as a "intern" at some snooty New York law firm. After I hung up with Lisa,I continued to sit on the park bench and thinking about my life. "Are you Leon Jackson?",a deep voice said. I turned around immediately and was quite startled. Two,tall,white males flashed there badges in my face. This was it. I was done. I knew eventually I would get caught. They immediately grabbed me with aggression and threw me to the ground. As I cussed then and resisted,one of the officers reach into my pockets and pulled out a bag. They knew what this was.These cops had been following me for several months and they finally had there man. Why didn't I just take that job at the law firm? Why did I continue hustling? Now my life would come to an immediate stand still. I would probably lose my women and who knew when I would see Damon and Lamar again. So as I sat in the back of a car handcuffed,I really was pondering over my life. I could not help but wonder who the guy that was chasing me was. Had someone snitched and told these FBI agents where I was? .....Part 2 of "Diary Of A Street Hustler" Coming Soon

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