Hello everyone I'm back with a new story, like an actual full length story, and omg, it was hard work, trying to get it to perfection, I worked my ass off tbh xD Since this shall be my first "adult" themed story, so i wanted to write it very well. Anyway, this is the story you have been waiting for, the story that won first place on my poll, formally known as "The Ghetto's and The Gangs of La Rousse" but after a while, I got bored with the title, it was too long and dragged on, it made the story seem boring, so I shortened it, so "L.R Gangster" Not that much better, but...deffinatly better than the crap it was lol xD
This first chapter, is not a chapter at all, its the "Prologue" (my first time doing one of those too) anyway, the prologue was set a long time ago, it about Drew's past, informing you about what kind of background he had, and obviously its not a good one...since he like becomes violent and disturbed and joins a gang xD
Oh but he's not psycho or anything, oh no, I mean I torture the guy, but he's not that disturbed, It's hard to explain, you will have to read :) Haha.
Btw if you are against, violence, depression and swearing, you should turn away. This fic is an "adult" fic so it will be...grown up. So I better not get any flames saying this was soo sad or violent and crap like that, cause I'm warning you about it now. This is what the fic will be like, its about GANG life. But it got 30 votes, so i'm sure most people will be okay with it.
BTWW! you see that little random message down there? -points- that crying on the inside bit? Yeah that seems random and a tad emo but, it not! I'm gonna be putting them in all my chapters (hopefully if i can think of them LOL) But its a message at the start, its like how the main person of the chapter is feeling. THis one is of Drew, Thats what he's saying to himself, other chapters oil have different ones for different people :)
Enjoy ;)
--Kirsty x :))
Prolouge:
L.R Gangster -Kaidee- 1
...
I'm Crying Inside, And No-one Knows It But Me
...
Have you ever thought about the world? About life? About your life? About if your life is actually better than someone else's?
Or really, what did you ever do to upset God? Since he decided to make your life, a complete misery.
Life...mother fucking life. So wonderful to some, yet so cruel to others. It has various things to offer you, happiness, joy, wealth, excitement, friendship and...love. For the lucky ones of course. For the majority of people, who have not experienced all of those wonderful things, and probably will not, you are stuck with, depression, fear, poverty, and hate. Life is confusing, of how it chooses who can feel what, and who cannot. Who can experience pure happiness, and who can just have a joyful, meaningful life.
To put it simply, life is unfair. Life is a bitch.
As those thoughts passed through the disturbed, young mind, a pair of green eyes held much despair, as they gazed out from a streaky window. Staring out at the cruel world. Watching the heavy rain pound down on the streets of La Rousse. Thinking...what to do.
Slouched, on the cold, uncomfortable window seat, the young boy's eyes, scanned the city, looking for anywhere that could offer him protection, comfort, warmth. But there was none, nowhere he could go, nobody to turn to. He was alone, all alone in the big cruel world, with not a shoulder to cry on.
The old grandfather clock from down the hallway struck 11pm. One hour to midnight, and one hour till that drunken bastard came home and gave him his usual beating. The young child let a depressed sigh escape his lips. That was how things were here, that was his daily routine. Being beaten.
The wind howled furiously as the air began to get icy. It managed to escape from outside, and make its way inside the large mansion. Creeping its way up from downstairs and sweeping its way along upstairs. Feeling the chilly air brush past him, immediately his hands rubbed up and down his arms violently, trying so very hard to keep his body warmth on a normal temperature.
Sitting all alone, in the dark, unhappy room. The only light, was from the moonlight from outside, shining in through the window. Though, not that there was much to look at, you couldn't even tell that it was supposed to be a bedroom, it was demolished. Wardrobes smashed up, bed over-turned, light bulbs cracked, carpet turn up, wallpaper ripped. It looked like a disaster area.
And as that pale moonlight continued to beam through the cold, hard glass of the filthy window, it reflected onto a young boy who was merely sitting there, and by the look of him, he was in some state.
He looked about eleven or twelve-years-old or so. His pale, pasty face looked emotionless, though showed a sign of unhappiness, not had a real smile on his face for years. His tired, strained eyes gazing out to the world around him. The sleepy eyes were dull and grey, but had a small tint of green in there. Hanging below them, was huge, puffy, purple bags. Almost black. His tangled, lifeless, green hair flopped upon his head. Dirty and dull looking, like his eyes. His scrawny arms wrapped around his skinny little body. Surprisingly enough, there were no bones sticking out. His attire, simply torn jeans that needed washed, same with his discoloured black turtleneck sweater, that also had rips and tears added to it. His clothing piratically hung over his small body. So huge over that twig-like figure.
He...he just looked a mess. A clear and utter mess...he seemed so...lifeless...as though...he was a robot. He felt so depressed and so alone, having the urge to burt out into tears as any other child would, yet no sign of emotion. He locked all his feelings away, not wanting to cry for nobody, not showing his fear, his depression, as that showed weakness. He hated weakness. He was not weak. He would never allow himself to become weak.
He had learned that the hard way...from...him.
That fucking prick he calls "father", the man who was supposed to "love" him. The man who was supposed to "take care" of him and "protect" him, to make sure his life is "healthy and happy". To "support" him and "comfort" him. If only all those things were true, if only they were real...life would be much easier.
Fredrick Hayden; the most respected and wealthiest man in La Rousse City. Big time entrepreneur, successfully created the "house robots" and so fourth, made many other robots as to serve the humans. Since then has owned a few companies and lives in the most extravagant mansion you could ever lay your eyes on, which site on top of the biggest hill, overlooking the city. He was friendly too all, put on a fake smile, with fake friendliness, with added in fake charm, but... no-one really knew the truth, what a monster he was, and what really happened behind closed doors. Everyone in the city knew him well, knew his wife and his young son. Thought they were a happy family and life was grand. Well the thought wrong.
The young boy frowned angrily, what the fuck was wrong with people? Hadn't no-one even noticed his continuous trips to the bar? The aroma of alchohol that trailed him everywhere? The bloodshot eyes? Can't they see through his lies? Can't they figure out everything is false, and that he is a murderous bastard?
No, course not, cause he covers it all up, being the talented actor he is. Going to the bar late at night, when very few woman and children are about, Drowning himself in cologne to distract the stench of alchohol, and by lying to everyone about his red eyes, saying his "work" is never-ending. Not enough sleep is all.
Lies, lies and more lies.
He was just a lazy ass, he always looked after himself alright, spending all his money on his selfish needs, never for his son, or even his wife. They had to put up with the unhealthy lifestyle, and if they complained, a beating would shut them up. They felt like prisoners, living in fear in their own home. Nothing could help them, so they thought, this is just how things were meant to be, neglected and abused.
As hard as he tried to remember, there were no positive memories of his father. It was all blank. They only happy memories were with her...his mother...
Pain plunged into his frail heart, even thinking her name created sadness. The young pree-teen felt the urge to let one of those tiny tears escape his eyes. To cry for her, in rememberence of her, he missed her so much, he loved her...and now she's gone...forever.
She was the only person who made him feel...safe, happy, secure, only she could make him smile. Whenever he was afraid, she would cuddle him for hours, whispering comforting motherly words to his ear. Kissing his pain away. She loved him with all her heart, always did her best to protect him against that asshole. She spent every hour of every day with him, and although most would disagree, she was an amazing mother.
Her passing was due to him. He killed her! That son of a bitch killed her! In a fury of drunken rage...he killed her...and for what? Nothing, absoloutley nothing! She just got in his way, so he killed her. He killed his own wife, his son's mother...and not once look sorry. What was worse though, was that he saw her die, he had simply heard mommy and daddy arguing, mostly daddy, went out to look, then the next thing he knew, mommy was on the floor, with a red liquid oozing from her sides, and daddy with a sharp knife griped in his hands. He had witnessed a murder...his own mother. She was taken away from him, for good. No longer was he able to recieve those cuddles or kisses from her, or feel safe in her arms. He was on his own now, with him. Nobody would come to his rescue now, he was all on his own.
That horrific incident was years ago, back when he was five, although something you would wish to forget, he couldn't blank it out. He remembered it like it was yesterday. It was so clear in his mind, and no matter how much he tried to forget, he just couldn't. Neither would he ever forget his mother, every simple detail of her, it was all locked away in his mind, and he refused to let it slip away.
Now being all on his own, the boy had to learn all these rules, rules of survival. As his father gave him the beatings now, and it was him who had to fight for his life. Growing up on violence, and to be able to live, he had to hurt his own father, before he could inflict any damage on him. Sickening, it was soo so sick.
Still having those sad eyes locked on the window, he continued to look outside. Rain still dropped down from the grey skies. The city lights began to glow, just as the public places began to close for the night. It was time. He knew he was coming.
Ding, ding, ding
The old grandfather clock chimed twelve at midnight. The young child's eyes grew wide with fear, this was it, he was coming. He always came in at this time.
Hearing the front door burst open, and slam close. He was coming, coming for him. Drunk and sick-minded, he was coming...
Jumping off from the window seat, the boy searched frantically for something, anything that would help defend him from his fathers bulky build.
Loud, un-coordinated foot-steps echoed their way through-out the mansion. Getting closer with each step...
His panicking eyes scanning the demolished room frantically, digging his way through crap, looking for an object...a weapon.
Climbing the stair-case, the foot-steps edged closer, now he could even hear his grunts...
Throwing things about, he finally found something. A metal baseball bat. This would be good. The boy clutched it in his hands, his knuckles turning white from the extreme grip. Scurrying into a small dark corner, trying to hide himself, closing his eyes tight, just wanting this to be over with.
Doorknob being twisted, loud squeak of the door opening, light shining into the dark, deserted room. He was here...
Gasping for breath, the young boy opened his eyes, closing them would be dangerous, he had to know where he was to knock him out.
Loud groans stung his ears, as his breathing became short and unsteady. Glancing up, he saw him lingering over him, looking for him. The suddenly, his dark, dangerous eyes rested upon him. He found him.
His arm swiped for him ready to inflict a punch, but the young boy dodged the attack and ran behind him, striking him with the bat over the head. Hard.
"You little bastard!" he cried out in pain, trying to pursue damage to him, but the young child was too quick. Running out of the room in a panic, he fell downstairs, inuring himself in the process. Looking up he saw him, chasing after him, a killer look in his eyes...
Trying to get up, he stumbled and fell over his bat, making his father gain on him easier. He loomed over the frightened child, grinning like a maniac.
Swipe.
Direct hit, to the face. The child groaned in agony, his face stinging, unbearable pain rushing through him, it felt like it was on fire. Holding up one hand to his red, swollen cheek, and escaping under his legs before he could make another hit. Grabing his bat with the other hand and giving him one more blow to the head, not as powerful as the first one.
"You little shit!" he shouted, grabbing his thumping head, and staggering back and fourth.
While still holding his face, the child tried to run away, but was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled toward him, in a rough manner. He squirmed and tried to break free, but his father had a strong grip, he turned him around, and swung his his arm back.
Swipe.
Another hit, only this time, to the stomach. The boy fell over in agony, now clutching his lower body in pain. He could almost feel his insides being juggled about from the fierce blow. His ribs felt broken, it was so painful. His father on the other hand, laughed at his pain, he enjoyed it, and was about to attack him again.
Rolling over to avoid the punch, he got up quickly and picked up his bat, swinging it hard above his head with two hands, knowing he must end this. He gave him one final strike to the head, sending him to the floor, gripping his head in pain, blood spilling out from his cuts. he was not knocked out, almost, just one more should do it...
Breathing frantically, the boy had had enough. No more, just...no more. Was he to live like this all is life? A target for him? Was he to await his death in his own home? Dying, because he was not strong enough. No, this was it, he had enough. No more did he want to live like this. He refused. He had been putting up with it all his life, and his mother had put up with it. He didn't want to end up like her.
He turned his head back, to see the door, the door that lead to the outside. He may not have family close by, but he didn't need them, he had nobody anyway, his life was like crap, he could manage on his own. He could run away...and be free...
Looking back at his father, who was regaining his posture, and standing up, glaring at him, His lips forming into that malicious smile.
"You think i'm out? Well i'm not. Your lil pre-school bat aint gonna storp me. I'm gonnar have to teach you a lessson you lil braaat," he slurred. The drink effecting his speech.
Turning his head back to the door, he made his decision. He ran toward it, his bat still within his grip, opening the door and running out into the damp streets of La Rousse. Looking back he saw his father at the door.
"Run away then you lil spaaz, nodody waants you. You'll die quiker out there. You have nodody. Your useless!" he bellowed, his face red with anger, still holding his cut head.
Ignoring his comment, he ran, ran like the wind. Running where ever his legs could carry him. Running away from that horror house. Running away from him.
Rain shotting down on him, wetting his clothes and hair, thunder and lightning starting a distance away. Wind howling, and giving him an uncomfortable breeze as he was soaked. Not a nice night, but he didn't care, he was getting away from him.
Passing all the houses, running into unfamiliar territory, he die not care, as long as he was away from that fool, he felt safe, he was finally free. He ran past all the "richies", running through the "rich" side of La Rousse, he stopped at the end of it. Looking to where he was heading. The ghetto area.
He knew this was unsafe, this was the abandoned are of the city, the area that never got a look into. This is where all the disturbed youths lived. This is where all the murders were carried out. This was the most dangerous places on earth.
This was Gang central.
With one more glance behind him, he had a look at what he was escaping from, and it was a lot worse than any old gangs. That didn't scare him. With fear vanishing from his face, and a determined look replacing it, he knew he could handle it.
Nothing could be more dangerous that what he went through.
So he ran into it. The ghetto area, running through the abandon apartment, past the ally cats hissing at him, dogs barking, and dangerous looking druggies sniggering at him. This was his type of background, after all, he himself was disturbed, and he no longer was scared.
He would adapt to the gang life, he knew how to fight after all.
A/N: Finished! Woow omg, that took forever to do! I pushed myself to the best of my abilities, so I really hope it was great or good. Hehe and I hope it did not suck (
Btw Drew's father was meant to talk like an idiot, so don't bother correcting me of all the spelling erros I made, they were DELIBRATE! He is drunk people!
Just to make things clear, but i'm sure you smart cookies caught on, the young boy in the prologue was Drew, and all that disturbance was his past. His childhood, he had a rough time growing up. I decided to make this the prologue, just to reflect back on his past, it would explain things in future chapters :)
Oh btw remember my message at the start? Well now you get it or hopefully, cause like Drew wouldn't cry on the outside, cause it shows "weakness" or so he has been told, but he cries on the inside, and nobody knew but him. Yeah sad but...its the whole point! LOL
Awwww that was so depressing wasn't it? I hope you guys are like ok and not being all...emo so sorry. But I warned you this would be really sad, and violent!
Next chapter will be years later, Like in the future, and don't worry we'll see Drew again, I wonder how things worked out for him, oooooh :-O Plus i'll explain more on the "rich" side and the "ghetto" side. How it came to be ;)
So please do me a favour and review this? PLEEEEEEASE I worked really hard on this, so it would make me really happy, plus I pushed myself to make this really good (not that i'm saying it is or anything lol) I just wanted it to be good and not screw it up xD
so press that "go" button down there and tell me what you think about this, I hope it becomes a good story and you guys like it, that would make me soo happy )
--Kirsty x :))