When I was fifteen school became less important to me. I always looked at it as depressing as my own home. Even though I had not returned back since that one dayI left home. I got tired of sitting outside of school watching most of the kids that didn't pack onto the buses get picked up by their mothers or fathers. Being the drunken loser my father was he was probably still at home drinking himself to a eternal rest. I hope. I always wondered what happened to my mother. I remember what she looked like, hell, she was around for my twelve birthday, but after we took that family trip to the city I never saw her again. Dad told me she took a cab and found her way home, but when we returned home she was no where to be found. My dad always made me feel like it was my fault she left. He would tell me that she wouldn't come back until I start to listen to him. I guess I wasn't a good so. I hope she comes back now that I'm gone.
Since being out alone in the world, I've met some strange people. Noticed that in the city people like to hand around phone booths. I've always seen many neat attractions with this Jamaican "Magician".Whenever I would see his box open and see him speak, I would never understand what he was talking about, but he just made me feel good inside. He would bring in large crowds and would put a smile on everyone's faces. I was happy for a time until I needed to eat and sleep, but settled that problem by taking small swipes at people's pockets. I was only fifteen but I knew how to get what I wanted.
"Put the money in that bag!" The cashier nervously made his way try to open the register. Tipping and toppling everything in his way completely showed that he was scared shitless. He wasn't as nervous as I was because this in my pocket was no gun. The power of a two finger stick-up worked wonders is what I thought to myself with a grin under my bandet bandana. "Look son, you look so young, you don't want to have this kind of li--." I shoved him to the wall. "Just take the money out and put it in the bag ol' man!" Suddenly the back of my head felt cold steel. " "If you're going to rob this place, kid you gotta do it right. Move out of the way." I turned my head leading the barrel of his gun to my temple. "I'll shoot him! Don't test me I'll shoot this ol' man!" Of course I was bluffing. His gun was held firmly at my head still, I guess he didn't by my bluff. "Look, we'll split it." We both looked at the cashier and at the same time we yelled, "Hurry the hell up!"
We got out of that sticky strange situation, but needed a place to lay low and count the money. As we walked down the street with our heads hanging low, I didn't want to spark up any conversation since I didn't even know the guy. He broke the ice.
"So what's your name?"
Since being out alone in the world, I've met some strange people. Noticed that in the city people like to hand around phone booths. I've always seen many neat attractions with this Jamaican "Magician".Whenever I would see his box open and see him speak, I would never understand what he was talking about, but he just made me feel good inside. He would bring in large crowds and would put a smile on everyone's faces. I was happy for a time until I needed to eat and sleep, but settled that problem by taking small swipes at people's pockets. I was only fifteen but I knew how to get what I wanted.
"Put the money in that bag!" The cashier nervously made his way try to open the register. Tipping and toppling everything in his way completely showed that he was scared shitless. He wasn't as nervous as I was because this in my pocket was no gun. The power of a two finger stick-up worked wonders is what I thought to myself with a grin under my bandet bandana. "Look son, you look so young, you don't want to have this kind of li--." I shoved him to the wall. "Just take the money out and put it in the bag ol' man!" Suddenly the back of my head felt cold steel. " "If you're going to rob this place, kid you gotta do it right. Move out of the way." I turned my head leading the barrel of his gun to my temple. "I'll shoot him! Don't test me I'll shoot this ol' man!" Of course I was bluffing. His gun was held firmly at my head still, I guess he didn't by my bluff. "Look, we'll split it." We both looked at the cashier and at the same time we yelled, "Hurry the hell up!"
We got out of that sticky strange situation, but needed a place to lay low and count the money. As we walked down the street with our heads hanging low, I didn't want to spark up any conversation since I didn't even know the guy. He broke the ice.
"So what's your name?"