| Apr 19 - 06:58:30 |
|
| Post Reply | Post new topic | Page: 1 |
| It's time. | Started by: Chboii on Jul 22, '14 05:40 |
|
The sky was black, and the streets? Empty. The cold, damp air felt sharp against my scarred face. Wondering forgotten roads through the night was all my life was. No job, no home, no money. I used to be your average nine to five worker. your every day, run of the mill pencil pusher answering to some big wig that had brown nosed his way to the top of the company so he could set impossible tasks and expect them done like they're nothing. Wanting umpteen stacks of paperwork on their desk within the hour, screaming commands down your ear hole and running your life into the ground. After seven years of the same life, the same job and the same bull shit day in, day out, it was only a matter of time 'til I jam my cheap ass pen into his sack of shit for a brain. It was either that, or wake up every day trying work up enough courage to put a bullet in my mouth. But that's a pussy's way out. Those fifteen years in prison were the longest of my life, but every day that passed, I knew it was worth it. I'm let out with nothing but the long, black coat and trilby I was wearing when I got taken in. Walking from street to street with no concept of time. All I knew is that it was late. The sky had gone from a dusty orange to black in what seemed to be no time at all, maybe I needed something to concentrate on. Finding 20c on the floor, I decide to use it to call in a favour from an old friend. I sit on the curb and wait, just wait. In next to no time at all, a silver limousine screeches to a halt in front of me and the blackened window at the back of the car starts to roll down. The street lamp that I was sat under barely lit the mans face, more the Cuban cigar he was holding between his teeth. A brown paper bag flew out of the window and landed in my lap. "Now we're even." Those three words are the only words that were spoken between the two of us before the window started to roll back up and the limo' sped off into the night and disappearing over a steam pipe in the road. Opening the bag, I take out the .45 M1911 and push it down the back of my pants. It's slightly out dated, but it's a gun non the less. I continue walking but after a while, notice a suspicious cloaked figure seeming to follow me. Inside a 7/11 seemed like the safest place to be at the time so I headed inside and waited. I slowly wondered down each aisle of the store pretending to take an interest in what was on the shelves hoping to see whoever was following me, walk through the door. Ten minutes had passed and still nothing, I was starting to look suspicious and needed to leave. As I headed for the exit,I stopped in the middle of the store. I seemed to lose control of myself, my mind went crazy and I was full of adrenaline. I knew I was about to do something stupid. Or was it really stupid at all? I turned to face the counter of the store where a clearly nervous, spotty teen was waiting anxiously for me to leave the store. My feet started walking me towards the counter, I was helpless. I couldn't stop my feet from walking any more than I could my right hand reaching round behind me and pulling the gun from my trousers. I stop by the till and raise my arm to a ninety degree angle and pull the trigger without so much as a twitch. No thought went to what the consequences my be, but did I really even care? My life was already at rock bottom. I empty the cash register pocketing myself $515 and thought to myself "This is more like it" That $515 was double what I was earning in a week, and all it took was 30 seconds of insanity. I dash for the door expecting the police to be closing in on me as quickly as I made the decision to end that poor teenagers life. Before I can make it outside, I'm stopped in the doorway by a man dressed very similar to me but in no way was the same. He was very classy and for a guy that was considerably shorter than me, was obscenely intimidating. He looked up at me and grins. His smile was more unnerving than the very presence of him. He takes off his hat, holds against his chest and presents me with an open hand. "I'm Alex and I don't know how to say this without intimidating you further? But i'm kind of a big deal. On these streets, what I say goes around here, y'understand? Of course you do, it's not difficult. How would you like to come work for me and represent Staten Island? You've got connections that we could use and you've clearly got balls kid, we could use someone like you around." After shaking his hand, (all be it rather skeptically) I now had to make a decision that was without a doubt, going to change my life forever. Was I ready? Was I capable? Would I prefer it to the life I had then? The answer to all of those? Is yes. Less than two weeks ago I was a nobody, a Thug, maybe even just a Civilian living his pathetic life one soul draining day at a time. But now? A Made Man working for one of the finest leaders in New York. How could one persons life change so much, in such a short period of time? Could a life of crime really be the life for me? After everything I've seen and done in the past two weeks, I would undoubtedly say yes. Yes it is. But then, I am a Made Man. |
|
| Report Post | Tips: 1 / Total: $20,000 Tip |
| Post Reply | View All Threads | Page: 1 |
How much do you want to tip for this post?
Minimum $20,000
Minimum $20,000
