A/N: This chapter is short, but explains part of the story. I own my OC nothing else. R&R please!
My dad's face is twisted in anger as I walk in the door with blood on my face and hands. "You've been fighting again", my dad says,"I told you not to". All I do is stand in his shadow with a look of shame on my face. "Room, now". I walk slowly to my room, thankful that he does not follow me.
My room is small and plain, and that's good enough for me. He yells at me every day, just because he hates the way I earn money. My way is beating on gangs and drug dealers, and taking their money. I fight with force because they always need medical attion when I'm done with them.
The way I started this is because of a certin gang. The Purple Dragons to be exact, the gang that killed my brother. I have never forgotten that day. My brother, Devin, was walking home from his friends house, when ten Purple Dragons mugged him, not only did they take all his stuff, but to keep him quiet, they shot him three times in the head. Since then, I have sworn to take down any type of gang member down. Hard. That is the reason I come home bruised and bloody every night, and the reason my dad hates me. He's the type that hates violence and thinks everything can be solved peacefully, boy is he wrong. In my opinion, there is no such thing as a fight that is fought without fists.
