Hey, it's Flights. I know a GTA isn't like me, but I was inspired by a story called, 'A Pyramid Of Violence'. I don't know if this is my type of story, since...well...my parents are freaked about me not bringing GTA over to my house. Since I am not old enough to even move out, and will not be for another few years, my parents don't really let be bring 'M' games to the house. So, I am not black, I am white, and I have no idea how this is going to take effect. I'm not a 'wigger' either. Don't plan on it. I'd look like a freak. Seriously.
Disclaimer: I do not own GTA, RockStar, but I have created these characters.
I stared at the night sky, wodering when my life would be over. It would be, sooner or later, and I would be the first of the few to go. But I don't know which order, other than I won't be the final one. I won't be punished for forever, but this scar remains.
The sky was like beatuiful silver crossed with azure blue, the stolen keys to my 67 Chevy on the picnic table at my side. Also on the table was a pack of Cigarettes, and two lighters, but one had a razor attached to it. The last thing on the table was a .357 Desert Eagle. Once again, stolen.
I thought I was going to cry, but I didn't. My face stayed serene, insane, and suicidal like.
A baseball bat crunched as I heard curses and whispers in the dark forest behind me. Sadly, I lived in sort of like shed. Except it was the best fucking hideout you could ever find, I was always safe there. But nightmares haunted me, because I am a white boy.
Can't you tell? How I describe these things?
Well, fuck that. Anyway. The green moss below my feet covered the area like grass as the rest grew long. I heard Gun Shots behind me, and then, I felt if something exploded in my chest.
I turned to my Car. What a beauty. Refinished, with new parts that work, and a new radio. I can now listen to CDs. The black finish made me smile, but I didn't. Instead, I brought out of the car a small tank of Gasoline. I rushed inside my helluva santuary, and searched the weapon stacks, and I finally found my weapon of choice.
I didn't want to do this, but this was all for Kristine...
Oh God...
I couldn't even take control of myself. I was a killer. And a lover. And a hater.
I took my Chainsaw and quickly ravaged as I watched the Dark Crimson spew and spread like the moss on the tres, except I WAS the tree. They deserved it.. But they weren't the cause. Fuck, it made me feel better. But they killed my friends...two today. But godamn, they did much more fucking that. All because of that one day...on Halloween...The eve of Halloween...The Night was the same...but never afterwards...
(( Two Weeks Ago, October 30th, 2007 ))
The Party was amazing, I, Jakob, was loving this. I was drunk, and I was a minor, seventeen and drinking, baby! This seemed great at the time, but there were some unexpected guests, and surprises...
Oh, wait. I'm supposed to tell you this. Or not.
I was sitting there, eyeing the red carpet, the drinks, the pole dancers, and the hot chicks, and how much clothes they had on.
I felt my- area -get harder as I looked around and around.
Chicks were diggin' this, I could tell. My eyes searching across the room.
Blue eyes about as gorgous and immense if I kept eye contact, most people got lost. If they kept eye contact., and still if I didn't and they did, it still happened.
I was like a Vampire, mezmerizing everyone.
I was a little pale, but my skin was a light brown, whcih made me fit in. I usually wear baggy blue clothes, and a white tanktop, or a dark blue long sleeved T-shirt, and brown grey jeans. My facial feautures were normal, I had...let's see...15 crushes I knew of...probably more, though.
I was a softmore at my School.Time didn't go by fast.
Looking around, I saw my friends enjoying this, and bits and pieces of sex. Many went upstairs. But it was time for me to find my date, for now.
Then, I saw the girl I had my first crush on. Sadly, I didn't meet her until Second Grade. Kristine Aoi Amer, the prettiest girl I ever saw- I mean- met. Her father was a drinker, he drank a 12 pack a day, and he about lost it. I found out the hard way of what he means by 'I like you, kid'. He slammed me in the face with a lead pipe, thrashed me and tore my clothing against a brick wall, and tossed me in the dumster.
But that was our secret. He hasn't been so bitchy because before he tossed me in that wretched thing, I broke his leg.
Her mother was jappanese, but she died early. When Kristine was eight, her mother was thrown out of her car, and was air conditioned with 5 Shotgun Shells. Kristine was rather pretty even at that age, and the man was going to...get...her when Cops came by, and shot him on the spot. She still hasn't got over it, but still, she smiles just the same.
Her father was American, though. Me? I'm 1/4 Hispanic. The rest is white boy English.
The music blared as I soon started lip-synching the words to 'Taller Faster Stronger', when my eyes landed on Kristine's.
The room was mostly red, and the carpet was red like those ones Celebrities walk on. But you couldn't tell with the moving, blaring music, and light exited moans and laughter. The Night outside was beautiful, none like any I had ever seen. And I was always the animal, the night prowler.
Of course, she was automatically drawn the seond we looked at each other, but knots inside my stomach told me it should have been the other way.
She had extremely straight hair, her hair almost reached her...waist...and was pitch black. Her eyes were a Dark Hazel-ish Green. I always twicthed when I saw them, but not this time.
Her skin was a little lighter than mine, but she did look a little foreign. From like, well, you knew it was somewhere else. She really automatically fit in.
Her face was like if Picasso had redone his paintings and placed them exactly in the right places, except, it was too good to be real. I saw a few boys in my Homeroom Class drool when they saw her come in the very first time.
She wore a black and white dress looking thingy, I'm not a Clothing Designer, peoples.
But as soon as she sat down next to me, I nodded and moved the drinks to the side. I had almost forgot she was afraid of alcohol.
A voice in the back of my mind cursed very loudly, and I showed a sarcastic grin on my face.
"What do you think of the party?" I asked. She shook her head.
"It's goddamn perverted." And almost in Sync, a loud grunt from a man upstairs and the low growl of a moan that sounded like a purr from what I hope sounded like a woman.
I smiled my grin that spread to atleast the side of my face.
"You wanna go outside? It won't blur out the sound, but at least you won't be hit on." I answered, smile turning slowly into a look of concern.
For a while, I knew- or thought- that she knew that I liked her. I know I had shown signs from Day 1, one would think she would know by now. But some are not so bright. I happen to be one of them.
Because the look on her face was wide for a split second, and for another, I almost died laughing in my mind because of this if she held that look.
It said clearly 'I'm not so sure I won't' and 'What the hell is he thinking?'. Then that turned to smile I couldn't bear to turn away from. But both of our cheeks were redder than bodies in a slaughterhouse.
"Sure." She answered. "That'll be a great idea."
I smiled. "Let's go."
We moved through the Crowd easily, we seemed to disappear with our dark clothing.
But we never really got outside. I did, he did, she was behind me. I don't know who lived and who died there, but I killed one of them. No...more...
Goddamn skateboarders...
We had finally reached the back door when I heard footsteps and shouting, and sounds of...gravel and rocks cracking sligtly, but I knew that sound.
A skateboard.
As soon as I saw a crowbar on the ground, I told Kristine to back up and cover her eyes. I saw Angelo, a rather cocky kid in our cult. We help new kids like us get through school. But I saw a gun in his hands, and his eyes were wide, then I heard five shouts.
And five shouts came from five figures with a wooden weapon in their hands.
Skateboarders looking to take 'control'.
I was telling them to stop when a loud echo of gunfire shocked me as hellfire entered his way into that poor kid's head.
There was a sniper on the roof.
And he had killed Angelo.
Then I heard the glass in front of the house windows break. I heard shouts and screams of confusion as two of my hispanic friends jumped out to see what was going on.
There were only three, but what the one in the middle was holding I could never forgive.
He must've stolen it, a heavy machine gun...
Out of the corner of my eye in the few split seconds I had as they rushed towards me, I saw the bullets tear apart my friends, like pieces in a puzzle with uneven pieces, they fell.
I was enraged. They did not deserve it, they were more innocent then Angelo. But none derseved this...dammable slaughter...
But now they were in for it. In the last seocnd, I told Kristine again to cover her eyes again.
Then I just lost it.