Flashback: Intro & Part 1 (673 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 2 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by L.G. <el2tha.g.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-01-10 14:57:00 EST
Flashback
Intro:
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die. I used to think this was bullshit, now I see that they just had it wrong. Your life does not flash before your eyes when you are about to die. No, it flashes before your eyes when you first realize that you are going to die. When you give up all hope, and know that there is nothing you can do to save yourself, that's when it happens. I have just given up hope. I know what fate has in store for me, and I accept it. I sit here bleeding, knowing the end is near, and I see my entire life. I see every person I hurt, every friend I lost, and every wrong I ever did. Am I sorry for any of that? No. I never harmed an innocent person. Everyone I associated with was just as fucked up as I was, and they lived just as corrupt. They all chose to be involved with it. All chose their own fate. Would I have changed anything if I could? Shit, maybe. Maybe I would have played it smarter, maybe I would never have started, but we'll never know. What I do know is that I've lived it up as much as I could, and it was one hell of a ride.
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Part One: The Early Years. Southside
I'd like to tell you I came from a broken home, that one of my parents was gone, I was abused, and that they made me what I am. Well, I came from a perfect home. I had both parents, a little brother, and an entire family that loved me. We weren't poor, my dad always made sure of that, but we weren't rich either. We lived in a small four-bedroom house in Southside. Ah, Southside. To me, Southside was paradise. My parents swore it was a nice area when they chose to buy the house, but I don't remember any of that. My Southside was a place to run free. The cops were almost never around, and even as kids we would all roam the streets until late at night. There was always something to go do. Basketball games in the park, dog fights in the garage next door, cars and houses to vandalize, or just roaming the streets. We even collected unused bullets we would find in the street. Shit, we got into everything little kids could get into. By the time I was ten I had learned the ways of our city. Fuck the cops. They were never there to help anyone, and the times we did see them was when they were harassing one of ours. Trust no one. I learned this one by seeing some of my older friends get snitched on. They talked too much; let too many people in on what was going down. Sooner or later, you get a jealous person, someone turned by the cops, or someone out for revenge, and everything you worked for is gone. Tell no one anything, keep everyone in the dark, and have nothing to worry about. Street family. Street family was something I learned real quickly. Everyone in Southside was close. People from your hood were family, down for each other until the end. You got a problem? You can always depend on your street fam. Any people that did snitch got dealt with. Nobody ever sees anything, nobody ever knows anything, and things just got dealt with. Attitude. Southside gave me every single bit of my attitude. I learned not to give a fuck about anyone but my self and my family. Everyone else can fuck off. I didn't give a shit what people thought of me. You don't like me? Fine, just stay the fuck out of my way. Living in a world where you can do whatever you want also gives you a certain cockiness. "I can do anything I want" quickly turned into "I can do anything". I knew my strengths, and I had no weaknesses.
By the time I was 13, I was a little shit. I didn't give a fuck about anyone, was full of myself, and was just learning that I had a gift. I was a talker. I could talk my way into or out of any situation, and I always got my way. I could talk to a girl and have her willing to do anything I wanted; at any time I wanted it. I also had no fear, and a sweet spot for revenge. There was a certain day I remember first getting revenge. A bunch of us kids were hanging out in someone's garage when the neighborhood bully came by. His name was Scott. Scott was a big kid. He was four years older than the rest of us, and was the only one of us who worked out. At 5'7", 150 pounds, he was huge compared to the rest of us kids. I never knew why, but Scott didn't like me. As he came into the garage, we saw an evil smirk on his face, and he was holding something behind his back. By the time he had pulled out the aluminum baseball bat, he was already in front of me and taking his swing. I never felt any pain. I could feel the cold aluminum connecting with my face, but no pain. After one hit he ran off like a little bitch. I was in shock. That was the first time anyone from my hood had ever tried to harm me, the first time anyone at all, actually, had tried to harm me. I went straight home, got my wooden bat out of the garage, and headed towards Scott's house. Blood still pouring out of my nose, my eyes burning with rage, I walked straight up to him as he was shooting some hoops. I saw a glint of fear in his eyes as he saw me, and I attacked. "THIS is how you hit someone with a bat!" I screamed as I swung at his stomach. This dropped him to the ground and I just kept swinging. It was the first time I had seen so much blood. The tip of the bat was a dark crimson by the time I was done swinging. I looked down at the victim of my rage, and saw him on the ground shaking, filled with fear. His face was covered in thick red, and I could see his wrist was broken from trying to soften my blows. I leaned in near him and whispered, "Don't ever fuck with me again." I later found out he had fractured my nose. Small price to pay for the amount of respect I got afterwards. Nobody ever liked Scott, and everyone had heard about what happened. I was getting props from people I didn't even know. People were willing to follow me, and, at thirteen, for the first time I felt power.
This was when it all came to an end for me in Southside. My beginning was also my end. My dad had gotten a better paying job, and wanted to take his family into a better area. People on the block were pissed. They thought he was getting a little money and deserting them. I was pissed too. We were leaving everything I had grown to love. We ended up moving to Foothills Junction, a small but growing city about forty-five minutes away. There was nothing but stuck up people with money, and all of their snobby little kids populated the city. I thought I was done, thought I could never lead the same lifestyle here. I'd never been so wrong in my life.
Coming Soon-
Part 2: Teenage Years. Foothills Junction
User Reviews
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-01-26 15:47:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2005-01-12 13:21:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Shorter paragraphs please.
Otherwise solid +2 material.
-Dave
Submitted by L-Gizzle (user info) at 2005-01-12 12:48:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Part 3: http://www.ubersite.com/m/56565
Submitted by L-Gizzle (user info) at 2005-01-11 15:18:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Part 2: http://www.ubersite.com/m/56455
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-01-10 17:06:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Good, but you seemed to be slipping in and out of a dialect at times. It was sort of jerky, and just seemed like you should pick one or the other. That said, interesting beginning.
Submitted by Katastrofadark (user info) at 2005-01-10 16:17:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Finally you write some really good stories again. I can't wait for the next installment.
Submitted by L-Gizzle (user info) at 2005-01-10 15:48:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
that i can do
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-01-10 15:45:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I like this. I look forward to reading the next installment.
Just a suggestion. More spacing. Large paragraphs put people off.