Dreams In Red: Chapter 3
Date: Feb 19th, 2007 5:19:24 am - Subscribe
Mood: divine
I think it started here. I'm not sure. As a child I had never kept anyone really close to me. Call it poor parenting. When your parents show little to no affection, you don't allow anyone to get close to you. The other children didn't hold hatred against me for being mean or anything. It was more of an intense animosity for not joining them in whatever activity they were doing.
I just enjoyed being alone. It was comforting. It was quiet. It was so necessary. They could not accept this. I wasn't going to try to make them understand this either. My eyes into the world opened very quickly. In the streets I lived on I had witnessed so much stuff. From murder to rape, theft to brawls, drugs to gambling. Everything that was deemed by society as evil.
It wasn't until the violence found me that I knew what I would need to do. I remember it very clearly. Yes this was definitely the day I began my journey. I was walking down a back alley a boy of 12. I was jumping in water puddles. And then suddenly I was laying in a water puddle. Blood was seeping out of the back of my head, and the puddle was slowly becoming a red tint. It took a moment to register what had happened. But I knew what was going on.
The violence found me. I rolled over to get a glimpse at the attacker. Shit the kid was at least 15 and a lot bigger than me. I knew I had my work cut out for me. I scampered to my feet, but my ears had started to ring a little. And there was a right hook buried into my jaw. I reeled back. Didn't even pull my hands up to defend myself. And there was the gut shot. I doubled over, air rushed from my lungs. So this is what all those victims I had stood by and watched for years felt...
I dropped to my knees. Not a good move. Here comes the knee to my chin. I'm on my back. Blood was coming out of the corner of my mouth now. Got to find an out, got to find something to change this. A kick to my ribs. Another one, and finally on the third I rolled with it. Managed to my feet. And without hesitation I spun back towards the kid. My fist catching him square in the temple. I was too caught up in the moment to realize my right hand was now busted up. Instead I followed through with an immediate left into his nose. The kid reeled back.
A quick shove and he hit the ground. My eyes flashed red. What is this feeling?! I can not describe what it feels like the first time you exact revenge of this type on another being. My next move was to get on top of him. I pinned his arms down and it was just me, my fists and his head now. I rocked him many a times into the concrete. It was until the rage started fading that I stopped. I began to feel my hands cracking with each connecting swing. The rage dies when the life-force is excreted from the body. When the kid's life-force passed, so did my rage.
The adrenaline dropped and suddenly my hands hurt like hell. But this kid... I just sent him packing straight to hell, heaven, purgatory, whatever. I do not know. But I learned the rules quick. It's kill or be killed. The law does nothing in this world. People die by other people's hands everyday here. The cops do not interfere unless it is the will of whichever crime lord is ruling the city at that time. The cops aren't cowards, they just like the lifestyle they get when they get paid by the crime lords.
The worst part was going home that night. I walked through the door, my dad saw the blood on my clothes, stared a moment, and then with his back hand sent me to the ground. Theres the blood again. Did they know I just killed another human? Do they not care that I could have been on the other end? I don't know. But it was time to move.
I do believe thats where I got my start. But being 12 I wasn't quite old enough to be of any help to anyone yet. I was but a child until the next day. My parents expedited my release from the place I called home. I awoke that morning with my bags packed. I was to go live with some friend of a friend of the familys. But I decided not to. Train rides can be boring and sometimes you just "happen" to miss the train when it departs.
It was that day that I met my 3 best friends. In the train yard late that night, fate took over the threads of my life. Bam! A gun rang out. A shoot-out in a deserted train yard after hours. I am at this train yard hiding out and now there is a shoot-out. 2 guys were firing hand guns at each other. One man had a pair of them, and they sounded so angelic after each report.
The unfortunate part at that time, but later turned out to be the most successful event in my life was that the man died right there. The other guy took him down without hesitation. The man left the guy laying there. It did not seem to be a robbery, a crime of theft, anything of that sort. Just the other man wanted this guy dead. I took it upon myself to do the civil duty of looting the corpse. I found 300$ in cash on the man, a lighter, and decided I might want the hand guns.
When I removed the hand guns from him they were ice cold, yet I had witnessed him fire many shots from them. When they fell into the grip of my hands...they felt so warm and home-like. This was the start of a great friendship.
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