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Rated: 13+ · Other · Crime/Gangster · #1616510
a man, travels back to his old neighberhood, settling an old score. Realizes who he is.
Part 1







The engine shuddered as I took the exit. I came around and floored it down the street. I came upon the place of my dread. The place of my young violence. I took the street all the way down, and made a left into the development. The development where I grew up. The wild west.

It’s all gone now, stripped down cars, and dead plants all around. The smell of the decaying factory not to far down the road infested the air, polluting its people. Few old and tired souls staggered around the hot pavement, as junkies, no longer in hiding, ran from place to place, searching for whatever it is they believed they need. I kept on toward his house.

I stopped in front of the house where I learned to fight, and tag and climb toward places not easily reached. I knocked on the door, his father; the thin bastard looked at me with the beady eyes that judged those he had no right to judge. “He don’t live here no more, he livin with his brother now, down the road.” I left not saying a word and kept on. Everything and everyone now down the road.

I arrived at the apartment, now on the edge of the development and reason it seems. Seated close to the chop shop where I learned to deal with all kinds of vermin, and learned where money really came from. Knocking on the door, I shifted my shoulders around, realizing I was not ready in the least bit for any of this. Vic answered. Vic, supposedly the baddest motherfucker around. No taller than the norm, shoulders a good width, his body was lean and very expendable. But his eyes, they were gray, and mean. The rest of his face was the same way, not hard, but dirty. His brow was never relaxed. He never liked me. To him I was another punk always, talked tough moved tough, but never enough to bite. For a while I believed that to be true. He let me in, thinking back now I dont know why he did. Mike was in the back. He came out; his girly features angered me only for a second. It never ceased to amaze me he used to lose his mind to almost every substance under the sun. A low life, who never knew what words came out his mouth. His skin was smooth and silky, no sign of abuse anywhere, though years and years of life showed beneath his surface. His eyes similar to Vi’c’s were greener, and seemed to still have a bit of moisture to them. “Oh mother fucker you got some heat if you showin your punk ass here.”

No heat man, I just want to talk.” Vic circled his way around back to the kitchen, which was a couple steps to my right. I thought back and remembered Vic had a gun years ago, the bones in my feet began to tremble. The boots I wore hid that.

“Talk about what? Bout all the shit you had put the boys though here after you fuckin ran like a bitch?”

“Ran away? You…” I watched what I was saying at this point, “I was 12 years old, you understand how young we was? I just moved, I didn’t leave no body behind. Didn’t burn no body, I was a kid who moved to a different fucking town. It aint like we was boyz in the hood or some shit, we wasn’t all that tight.” Saying fuck in an apartment with two people who would love to stomp me out wasn’t smart, noticing Vic’ right forearm tensed up as I said this.

“Mick getting shot? Your bitch angel killing her self…”

From here I had lost all my control, gave it all up and let it all out. Why was I afraid of these two? I could take them both if I really needed too, I knew now I was prepared too. I knew now it was who I was. I knew now finally at this moment, it was all I ever understood.

“You piece of fucking shit. You don’t even get to fucking talk about angel you hear me? You didn’t know her. And Mick was your fucking fault. If you didn’t piss off whoever it was, over some fucking bitch maybe he’d still be here. But fuck it, you got anything else to say, fucking say it now.”

Vic never cared for his brother, but he was always down for a fight. He steps quickly over toward me, I stand motionless.

“Who the fuck you talking to bitch?” He says licking his lips dramatically.

“I aint talking to you so what the fuck you doin?” I stepped in closer, keeping my face not to far from his own, waiting for a sudden jump of muscle, the sudden change in his posture, the quick change of his facial expression.

“Look Vic chill out man, we ain’t doing this here.”

Vic began to back off, feeling him begin to easen up. We stood staring at each others eyes, trying to convince the other that we were the baddest of the two.

We talked for an hour or two. The words we exchanged were meaningless until a name was uttered. A name hated by all, especially by me. Diego.

“That punk? He been messing with you all this time?”

I sat in silence for a while, waiting to see if Mike would remember. I think he did, because he understood how Diego and I’s problems all came about. “Look man, I don’t know what you so burned about. He aint gonna fuck with you. Since you left, this piece of shit been fucking up. No body working with him anymore. He dealing himself now. All his boys he pissed off. Bitches he used to run around with aint even around anymore.”

“I don’t want to put a hurt on him, I just need to talk to him. I aint afraid of the motherfucker or nothing.”

He sat back slowly and dramatically as he did all things and giggled, “What’s with you and talking all of a sudden?”

I said nothing back, I was hoping for the old silent understanding Mike and I used to share. One would say something, the other would run along with it, no questions. He eventually remembered I believe, the silent understanding. “Alright, we gonna find this mother fucker. We gonna get Mark too.”

“He still living here?”

“Hell yeah, big mother fucker still living with his moms.”


Before we went to pickup Mark, we decided it would be best to eat. Having not eaten at the grand buffet after so many years I told them lets go there. But the grand buffet is and always will cost an arm or a leg. Or perhaps a car radio.


Vic and Mike ran me down the road to an unoccupied parking lot, behind a bar. Mike walks right over to the door of the car, opens it and lays himself inside. Vic quickly grasps my shoulder and pushes me toward the sidewalk. “Watch for cars,” He rudely orders me. I watch, nervously, the old familiar feelings rushing back to me. Another thing not experienced for years.


Once we had the car radio we took it to the chop shop I grew up near. We were given 65 dollars. I never understood pricing, I didn’t know if that’s an obscene amount over, or too little to be given. Either way I didn’t care, we had enough to eat. I feasted like a king.

As we left, the food seemingly leaving me in a state of joy, I had asked for a ride to her house, to Angel’s house. I knew that I needed to see her mother. I needed to se her father. Look in his eyes, and perhaps, follow through with what I promised angel so many times. When I arrive, the house looks exactly as it had my entire life. The flowers infron of the yard a different color now, but the same house as always.

I walk to the door, surprised at my calmness, and casually knock the door. When I hear someone on the other side place ther hand on the knob, I immediately tense up. The door creaks open as I’m standing face to face with the mother of the girl I will always love. Her cold eyes immediately open wide as color finds its way back into her face. “Oh my, Alan!” With an act of love I am not used to by her I am grabbed tightly and squeezed into a hug. She pulls me away as she drags me into the house, hearing the car pull away. They know to leave me here for a while.


She shuts the door behind her looking at me as if I were a ghost. “I am so glad to see you.” I nod my head and say I am too. We sit on her couch, the couch me and Angel shared many many kisses together, many many nights laying listening to each other’s heart, each others breath, speaking soft spoken promises. Promises she kept, and promises I broke.

We talk about her for a while. The good times we used to have, the terrible times. She begins to sadden as we both realize there were more times with laughs than we might have wanted to admit.

“I don’t know how this could have happened.” She says to me. I was right, her mother had remained blissfully ignorant to the entire situation. She had no idea that when I cheated on angel, if she knew I did at all, Angel was absolutely crushed. It tore her up, it completely broke her and she began to hang around that low life scum of the earth Diego. Diego got her hooked on cocaine, and slowly but surely she began losing her mind. Each night I laid alone, thinking of her, thinking I was the reason, knowing I was the reason, and I died slowly. Until finally, it all came to much to be for her, and she went away, she took herself away from all of us.

Angel’s mom slowly began to cry, dropping her head on my shoulder; I looked past her on the mantle not to far from where we were sitting. Seeing a picture of me and Angel in the 2nd grade hugging each other at a Halloween party. My hands shut into a fist. I use every ounce of energy in my body to not scream out, cursing myself for what I had become. I hold her mother tight, wishing and praying. My heart sinking, lower it had ever sank before, the pain in my chest spreading, making the entirety of my body weak, and frail. I cried. I cried and cried. No one in the world cried as hard as I cried. No one in the world was more weak than I was right than.


The door opens. I can hear him now. And the weak frail boy I was reduced found himself finding strength again. I looked back over at Angel’s sweet innocent pictures, and heard his heavy boots trucking through the house. My skin leather now. My hands heavy and my shoulders wide. The man who loved Angel was back, listening to that fucking bastard move closer and closer toward us. I stood up, the tenseness in my face pulling the skin back, my jaws clenched hard. He stopped as he saw me. His baby blonde hair balding now, and his disgusting vile eyes pierced my stare. As we both stood, staring at one another, this fat bastard stood in front of me, and looked at me with that same hideous stare.

I walk right over to him, not waiting too hear his voice. “You fucking killed her, all our lives, you and your fucking self, destroyed her slowly from the outside in. You should burn in hell, and one day I’ll get you there. You shit. Goddman you.” I turn to look at Angel’s mom and leave the house, walking, quickly, down the sidewalk, my breath short, and my entire body burning. My head mad with rage, I tell myself keep walking. Do not turn around. Ignore it all. It’s finished.




















Part 2






As we pick up Mark, he is surprised to see me. “Oh shit, back from the dead. Where the fuck you been motherfucker.” I smile slightly, not able to ignore the awkwardness of seeing him. Mark was the biggest guy I might ever see. He was dark and his face was hard. He was not made to be this way. He was born with the toughness, and the readiness. However I never could shake the feeling that he was still a child. But for now his maturity didn’t matter, what I was doing needed every bad motherfucker on the planet with me. And I felt I was finally ready. I said to all of them, “Let’s kill this motherfucker.” The feeling of purpose buzzed within all of us once again.


We drove carefully and slowly into the parking lot of the apartment building where this scum resided. His old lady, a fallen apart heroin addict told us he was in a party somewhere in Pearl Ango. The name struck a chord within me. I had never been to Pearl Ango before. Not out of fear, out of mystery. It was supposed to be the place where anyone who though himself as a tough guy could call home, at least in this town. A real cowboys and Indians place. We hopped in the car, heading toward the forbidden.

The dim lights, many dreamers, and bad men I expected to see was nowhere in sight. Just barren streets. Abandoned buildings. The parties and warzones I always heard fables of seemed to have moved on.

But then suddenly, without a warning, the sounds of people, and the movement of life was all around us. Dazed by the brimming of energy I had almost forgotten what I was here to do. We all did. The beauty and madness of it all, distracted all of us from everything. Smiles found their way across all our faces.


We parked the car

Stepping out like four characters in a Tarantino film, we walked the mean tough streets of Pearl Ango with a certain kind of swagger. The kind we had seen in films, and legitimately tough guys we grew up brushing shoulders with. Finally after years and years of us begging for skin like nails, we were a part of the long line of men hidden from the world. The men who didn’t have to answer to anything.

The first party we walked into was filled with white people. Mark elbowed me saying, “The fuck they doin here?” I laughed and turned to Mike as he was trying to grab my attention, “We gonna take our time huh?” nodding over to three girls watching us as we walked in. I nod slowly with a smile on my face. It’ll be a long night.







Three hours later we were aware of where he was at. We stormed in the place, our arms heavy with our fists. There he was. Diego. His arms large, out of balance with the rest of his out of shape body. His hair cut short resting on his large fucking melon head. His face soft, acting out as hard, and his eyes gentle like candle light. The sight of him put the heart in my body on a terrible place, my skin tingling with heat and the fire in him burning, wanting to blaze. I ease over to him, a sudden movement by me may result in a burst of blows to this motherfuckers face.

“You piece of shit faggot, you have got a whole bunch of nerves you coming to talk to me here like this. I-”

I quickly cut off his arrogant foolish words yelling over the madness of everything around us, “You fucking shit, I came here for one thing. Tell you to go fucking die, Find a little hole in the middle of nowhere throw yourself in it and fucking die..keep calling me with your bullshit and I swear to my fucking god I will do it for you. You hear me? You fucking….you killed her! You hear me.”

My words and rage kept my skin and nerves in frenzy, not sharp, which made me miss the whole two seconds it took him to pull his gun out. I quickly pivoted around his right grabbing his arm, twisting it, rushing him against the wall behind him. Blow to my ribs after years of no fights stung like needles sticking out against pool balls, continuously jabbed in me. His knees continue to smash me as I pull the gun away from him. Flip him down to the ground. The gun is light, not carrying the usual weight of a fully loaded automatic. It’s empty. That snake fuck. I whip him across the face with it and smash his chest with my heel. We leave the Pearl.








So tonight I drive back to my house. The large house surrounded by the bubble of other larges houses and ignorance, and blankness. I say goodby to these people, these monsters I had no right to hate. They leave me with a gift of a habit I quit. I breathe the fire, and blow its smoke into the night air. The large endless night. Mys kin tough and muscles soar. I scream out, roar over my engine. Fucking is wonderful isn’t it? Just live a life hazardous to your health. Fuck you. Quit reading, get out and fuck a lot.
© Copyright 2009 Alan Khan (maxswift at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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