Jaka Banks
16
somewhere in late 2008, I'd say december
This s a terrible question/10It all started in Jefferson, where I was born, it was 1986, jefferson hospital, my mother was supposed to give birth to twins, which didn't happen because as she was pushing my umbelical cord wrapped around my twin brother's neck, I was first to come out, was normal and breathing but my brother wasn't. I always felt guilty for his death, that is why to this day I visit his grave.
Some say their childhood can be described with a word or a sentence, mine can be with a phrase. Sticks and stones may break my bones but bullets do it quicker. In my early childhood we lived in our grandmothers house in Glen park, every day I was walking form the house to Jefferson motel where me any my friends played basketball, a lot of times teenagers wearing purple bandanas would be smoking weed around the block, I did not know what the bandanas meant, but I felt safe because cops did not try to f**k with us when they were around.
My grandmother became more and more sick, he had a mental disaese so she couldn't remember anything, my uncle extorted all the money out of her will, he made her sign a contract that gives him the property and lets us rott in the streets. So we had only one chance, move to Jefferson motel, living there was hard, there were about two hundred visitors daily, everything smelt like death and old people. But the playground was closer, all I had to do was go outside and I was with my friends.
It was a cold winter day, I was expecting my friends to be outside the motel, so I went to the front door, looked outside and saw two groups of people facing each other, I was older by then, let's say 10, one side was wearing purple bandanas and the others were wearing green bandanas. I walked outside, thinking they were having fun, as soon as I exited I heard someone scream, it was my mother chasing behind me, I didn't know why she was screaming, thinking there was something behind me I ran in the middle of the group, as my mother started running towards me one of the people wearing a purple bandana shot..
In the hospital I waited for days, no sleep, sitting by the bed, my mother didn't die from the shot, she was just hurt, but she was hurt badly. I sat there as she told me stories, trying to calm me down, but I couldn't forget the face of the man who shot her, and as soon as she fell everyone ran into different directions, it was just me and my mother surrounded by snow, red red snow. She always told me to sleep but she fell asleep first, I just stayed there listening to her heart beat monitor *beep* *beep* *beep*.
I heard the beats becoming faster and faster, until doctors ran inside the room telling me I need to go, they threw me outside the room, closed the door, I wasn't tall enough to look through the window so I just fell down, leaning to the wall, crying. A nurse came outside the room and leaned next to me, she asked me if I have any place to stay, I shook my head. She told me that my mother won't make it out so I need to go. Go? Go where! I can't go to the motel, I don't want to be near my father, I barely know him, all he did was smoke weed and drink beer with his buddies, so I went south, I saw a nice circle of houses, but there was a broken piece of the wall and on the bottom was a abandoned fire truck, a black officer was leaning on it, I heard a group say something about "tenpen". I ran down the street, nearing the circular hood, when I came down there the fire truck was gone, there was a man in a white shirt driving away on a bike, everything seemed so strange and new to me.
I was 10 in a brand new neighbourhood, soon people started to notice me, one of them said he saw me with the "ballas" I asked what the ballas are, they explained to me that they've been in a turf war with them since the behinning of time and that they are losing and need more members, I didn't understand anything they were saying so I declined, decided to go even more south and I ran into a man with green clothing, similar to the last man that talked to me, I asked him where I was and he answered me "Cems hood"
Cems were my family for five years, they taught me how to do things that I never learned in Jefferson. My friend Tareeq taught me how to shoot a weapon in his garage, he taught me how to smoke weed, he taught me how to live life as a baller. He even sold me his first vehicle, it was called the picador, it was a pickup truck that I drive to this day.
I was tired of living life in san andreas so I decided to take the money I made from weed and fly somewhere exotic, I took a three year long vacation to Liberty City. It was fun there, I had enough money, actually too much money, I didn't need to buy things, all I did was swim around. My phone rang, it was a doctor telling me that my father had passed away and I inherited 5000$ from his death, I was supposed to go back to santos to receive the money, so I did.
Back in los santos I went to the City Hall to receive the $5000, they gave them to me no problem, but everything was different, there were so many ballas roaming the streets, so many cops, the streets had no veriety, so I took the picador from the garage it was saved in and drove to the Cems hood. Finding out Cems doesn't exsist anymore, all my friends were killed, everyone was gone, I went to Ganton and saw only a few groves hanging out.
What has the world come to, can we save the imbalance?
^edited.
Guests: 358
Hidden: 0
Users: 0