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Memoirs of a Gangster Started by: Sal_Giaquinto on Jan 07, '08 02:19
Prelude

The wind and rain battered the windows and brick siding. Shadows danced in the night and vanished as lightning flashed and soon reappeared, jumping left to right. The streets were empty for a city that never sleeps.

With trembling hands he picked up his knight and placed it down gently on the table.


"Check."

His eager opponent returned a smile. Moving his king out of danger.


"That's about it for tonight. I need to wake up in the morning." Denny exclaims.

Even in the casual of setting of suburbal home, Denny Crane is dressed in a full suit. He rises, doubling checking his pocket watch.


"Are you still meeting with Sol about those new contracts?" Sal questions.

Although hesitant in tone, and quick to reply, Crane replies. "First thing in the morning."

Sal dismisses the oddness of his reply and changes the topic. "I need to check on my niece, Denny, but I shall see you in the afternoon. Buono Fortuna." The two men exchanges kisses on the cheeks and with that Denny leaves for the evening.

Quietly he walks up the stairs, apporoaches and creaks open his nieces' chambers.


Youth and innocent. Despite the corruption, the tainted blood and sweat that earned his fortunes, his niece was a light at the end of the tunnel, a end of which he could justify his means.

Slowly closed the door and retired to his own chambers.


Minutes passed like hours and hours like days.

Sal leaned forward, he rose from his bed and wandered down stairs. He needed liberation from his restlessness. Approaching the icebox, he retrieved a bottle of milk.


Finally, some sense of satisfaction. He thought. The moment was quickly broken. (A creek is heard)

Quickly looking up to investigate the noise (bang) The glass of bottle of milk shatters. Many of the tiny airborne shreds embed themselves in his eyes, blinding him if for only the moment. Fruitless he covers himself with hand and arms while racing backwards. (bang) The bullet connects (bang) Blinded, bleeding, trembling and waiting.


Nothing.

He soon slips into blackness.


Awoken from gunshots, little Lia wanders downstairs, she discovers her uncle. Rocking his dying head, shouting his name, her tears join with his blood.



End scene.


A look at Chapter One


Jing. Jing. Children rode their bicycles. The boys chased the girls. The smell of Lake Michigan. The market thrived. A reflection American opportunity.

An eager son tugs his mothers arm. Her patience had grown thin.


"That's enough Salvatore!" Her sweet but tiring voice announces...
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Chapter One


Jing. Jing. Children rode their bicycles. The boys chased the girls. The smell of Lake Michigan hung in the air. The market thrived. The scene; a reflection of American opportunity.

An eager son tugged his mothers arm. Her patience had grown thin.


"That's enough!" Her sweet but tiring voice announced.


The anxious boy could barely contain himself. The world pulsed with life and he wanted to be a part of it.


At that moment, the mother knew she couldnt shield her boy from the path that glistened and blossomed in his eyes. The city was corrupt and vile and it's attractive lure of wealth and prominense was dragging her son under.


With each tug, her grip on her son's hand loosened. Eventually, her grip broke and the boy disappeared in the market. She cried quietly.


At first to herself, but the tears began to flow, like a river.



Hours later, he returned home. Just as he left a boy and returned a man, his home was different. Something about the air.

Prop on a crotch, his mother slowly approached him. Her face grim, stained with tears, breath tainted with liquor. The son retreated his broken mother marched forward. He made his stand at the threshold.


She struggled for words...



"I...I can not do this Sal."

With that the door slammed in his face.


Those words echoed in his mind.

First her husband, now her son. She was no stranger to the struggle. She would endure. As far Sal, he had to endure.
He rolled up his sleaves and surveyed and licked the wounds the day had given him.
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