I do not own the boondocks, but Aaron McGruder does. Although I do own my character EmeraldSea Maria Clark and other characters that aren't in the normal Boondocks cartoon.
This story is pairing Riley Freeman aka Escobar with EmeraldSea Maria Clark.. The other pairing is Huey Freeman and Jazmine Dubois. Also this story is rated R for violence, language, and some sexual content. This is an action/romance.
Riley's Perspective on his thug life:
Excitement. Carelessness. Pain. Realization. Triumphant. Stressful. Satisfied. Restless. Rebellious. Miserable. Neglected. Mischievous. Lonely. Intense. Frustrated. Devious. Confused. And angry.
These are only a few of many feelins' I got as a young thug out in tha' streets. It's easier when I waz younga an' had ignorance that let me not un'stand what I waz bout to get mah' self into. The thought of bein' on the streets an' representin' where I waz from an' who I am once made me wanna join gangs an' sell mah drugs. But after a while I started realizin' what I got mah self into an' thought back an' said "What the hell waz I thinkin'?" Cuz if I knew I probly would a made some betta choices. Naw, who I kiddin', I wouldn't of, so I guess oh well den. He he he!
Now, I'm 20 years old an' mah once perfect thug life I had once dreamed bout an' envied had all changed. I had pitchered mah self wit' paper flyin' `round me an' bein' the greatest rapper wit' about a hundred half naked hoes crowded `round me. But now I'm just tryin' to stay alive an' not get shot at 24/7. It's a tough life, but then, hey, it waz mah choice an' mah brotha' had warned me, but me an' Granddad neve' listened to his gay ass an' that still hadn't changed. Wit' mah bro off to college wit' `dat fake ass Mariah Carey Jazmine an' mah granddad dead from eatin' all those soul foods Huey mic hater warned him `bout, I stick to mah self. I haven't seen mah bro in bout two years. Even all ma homies in the gangs I joined were all dead. I don't talk to nobody an' wit' me bein' so preoccupied wit' tryin' to stay alive I don't got time to fool `round wit' any hoes, but I don't wanna get any STD's anyway. This is mah life, everyday of it `til a gunshot will finally take mah life, or maby I'll survive, but I dought dat.
Chapter 1: Undefined Choices
AREA:Bronx
"Maaaan what the hell was I thinkin'? I mean here I am runnin' for mah life an' I forgot to bring mah gun. I ain't no amateur like Gangstalicious! And I ain't gay!" Riley Freeman aka Escobar was trying to think while running for his life from four thugs working for De Marcio Johnson. He's supposably the biggest thug throughout the U.S., Mexico, and Jamaica. He got to the top by being conniving and killing off anyone who got in his way. I mean along with his body guards protecting him someone would think he's the president of thugs, but Esco wasn't buying that bull shit. He had met him twice before and got shot. Now, this guy wasn't playing around with anybody and had his eyes on one thug and no he isn't gay because the thug isn't a guy. Her name is EmeraldSea Maria Clark. You would think no one would be able to resist the powerful De Marcio with his crazy mix self. He is Sicilian, Mexican, and Jamaican. Although Miss EmeraldSea did resist and was now M.I.A and being hunted down by almost every gang all because De Marcio even had a wanted sign stating he'd pay a half a million for her. Riley knew all this because rumors spread and once you meet with King crazy himself you know it's a fact. About four months ago was the last time he had seen De Marcio sitting on his "thrown" wearing his chains and he even had on a golden crown. He had about five accents mixed into one. Although if he got mad he would get a thick Hispanic accent. Well, Riley had made him use that accent a lot because he shot DeMarcio. I mean it wasn't Esco's fault he had pissed off the most craziest nigga in America. So that's why he's being hunted down, for one bullet that grazed De Marcio's cheek.
"Come on I jus' got tah make it to the next corner an' swing over tah the next alley an' I'll be home…" Esco stopped dead in his tracks, dust rising as he came to such an abrupt halt. He turned the corner to face a dead end which was a brick wall about ten feet high. "… free…Shit!" His dark jade eyes searched around for away out in a hurry after hearing running feet growing closer. Then his eyes met a man hole. "You got tah be kiddin' meh. There ain't no way in hell I'm gettin' in that." His head did a 360 to see four men running toward him and he could easily make out the tattoo's saying De Marcio's Gang written on each of the muscular men's arms. "Well, it's now or never." He stated out loud. At that moment he ripped off the metal lid that rolled two feet away and plunged straight down into shit and sewage. "Ughhhh dat is nasty!" Watching rats swim past him and down another drain hole. He quickly made his way toward the other end of the pipe by slugging his legs and torso threw the muck. It smelled like rotten eggs, sour milk, and shit. Making his way to the next escape, which felt like a mile away, Riley popped the lid off only to find himself in a clean white community called Crystal Bay just outside the ghetto. "Just mah luck to wind up in this gay ass community." He made his way out the front gates by running along the bushes and ran home, but I wouldn't exactly call it home. Unless, you call a train home that's been painted with almost every gang marking in the country and runs in almost every state. That's where Esco lives. It's called Old Dixie because something about being owned by a slave owner in Dixie to bring slaves into his plantation, but ironically the same train is how slaves got off the plantation and headed to the north.
Riley jumped a few fences and scraped his knees in the process, but he finally was nearing the train tracks. He slowed down to a pace and started taking long deep breaths his lungs desperately craved as the cool breeze caressed his face. Riley looked the same, but he had gotten taller and much more muscular. He kept his cornrows neat and tight, had the same mocha skin, skin and dark jade eyes. Also, Esco had deep bullet wounds, four to be exact, that were located on his stomach and chest. One bullet wound actually looked like a star. Riley dragged his feet along the cobble path not caring if he was scraping his shoes up and getting them full of dirt. "Nah, imma go tah Atlanta first, then Miami, New Orleans, an' finally L.A." Esco was thinking really hard of his plans for the future. Awnry people glared at the hood rat as he looked around for any cops. Once he checked Riley took the handle bars on each side of the door and pried it open. Esco then lifted himself into the train's caboose which was a faded red that looked gray and rusty. Inside, a bed was in the corner with a small desk and a reading lamp. There was a dark beige rug in the middle of the wood floor and a gun collection in a black truck smashed up in the corner. Riley slammed the door shut and turned the lamps on. He started changing the batteries on the lamps when he started feeling the train slow down to a stop. He heard foot steps closing in on him and then the doors begin to open up "Wha' in da' hell you doin' her'?" A deep voice asked. "You know you suppose tah' tell meh when you comin' back." He chuckled and started to smirk. He was a very old dark man that had a scar cutting his left eyebrow. "He he he…" Riley chuckled "…well you was drivin' the train an' I wasn't 'bout tah' go runnin' after yah. So I jus' hopped on the back." Charles raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything for a few seconds "Where were ya?" Riley started to grin "Wouldn't chu' like tah know." Charles sat down on the bed "Listen here boy, I ain't gunna start givin' you a speech cuz' you know I don't do dat, but you need tah' find yo' self a good woman an' get off 'da streets so you can make sumthin' of yo' self." He was frowning just enough so his wrinkles seeped in a little more then usual. Now, you have to respect him because Charles A. Jones was born in Birmingham, Alabama in 1929. He had been through almost everything and knew what he was talking about.
"Well…" Charles stood up from the bed and patted down his pants making dust fly, "…I'mma' go drive da' train so jus' think 'bout it." His dark brown eyes searched for an understanding in Esco's deep jade eyes before he slammed the doors shut and after a minute the train started to move and pick up speed. Riley plopped down on his bed making it squeak a little and sighed. " I think I know what I'mma do…maybe…"