Wanksta Tales
I think I might have been 11, maybe twelve. It was myself, a friend of mine, and a friend of his. We were walking from my house over to the neighborhood playground. I remember laughter. We were three little young ones on our way for some delicious play. We had crossed the busy drive and had made our way to the senior citizens building. It was here where we met our doom. For in front of us were nine wild heathens hungry for trouble and ready for ass-whupping. It was here where a young boy became a man.
As was stated, we were walking and laughing. Some ways away, my eye caught the site of the brood heading toward us. I quickly motioned to one of my lads. And he motioned to the other that was along for the voyage. We stopped in our tracks. I remember thinking that it might be best that we walk the other way. Unfortunately, neither of us felt we had a chance of making it back to my homestead. So, my comrades agreed that it would be best that we simply walked toward as if they were the wind. And we continued onward stepping.
We approached these felons head on and they stood before us as if they were brick and mortar. I stared one of these fellows in the eyes. And these young sons of Lucifer stared back. The head of the group spoke as a willow. “What the fuck you think you doing,” he asked of us. I told the lad that we just wanted safe passage to the grounds yonder. And he replied evenly with a might, “Fuck You.” And we all stood silent.
One of my comrades opened his mouth to speak. As his lips separated, the leader of the mighty crew, how do you say, stole on his punk ass. He struck my friend in his face. My friend wore spectacles as I did. And when the leader’s fist connected with my comrades nose, his spectacles flew from his face and across some ways about. My comrade grabbed his face. And our other comrade exclaimed, “Shit,” and proceeded to break out on our asses.
I stood motionless. And it dawn on me that myself and my comrade were in for a brush up with these hellions. I surveyed his companions. They looked hungry for war. I glanced about my comrade as his face lay between his hands, blood pouring through the fingers. And the leader stared at me his hands ready for the attack.
It was then that I realized what a man was. I knew it was time to prepare myself for the future task. I removed my spectacles and placed them in my jacket pocket. I clinched my fist. I laid steady my limbs, especially my legs which began to feel numb from the spiritual anguish. And my mind stood steady for the waste before me.
The leader pulled back his hands. It proceeded before me in slow motion. His fist ran toward my face as I duck. And then the moment of truth was at hand. And I myself, broke the fuck up outta that beyotch leaving my homie in the dust. Several of his crew chased after me. And my ass kept on running like a goddamn slave. I could hear my homie yelling and screaming in the background. And that shit made me run even faster. I didn’t even attempt to look back.
Before long I had made my way to my friends house, the one who probably got the shit beat outta of him. I banged on the door. His older brother answered. I told him what had happened. We both took bats and headed back to the scene. On our way there, we spotted my boy. They had beat the shit outta him. I tried to explain to him that I thought he was behind me when I broke out. Of course I was lying like a mothafucka. His brother spotted his bloody face. And began laughing. He called him a faggot and a pussy and punched me in my chest.
We took him home and it was only the beginning…
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