Till I Collapse: Saving Grace.
A/N: Yo! Dark story ahead! In this one, Mac fall prey to the world of drugs and sex. His family life is total crap. Mac's mom drinks till she can't see straight. Mac's brother is out all night partying and having sex with as many girls as he can. Most of the time, Mac's father is away someplace and only sends money home. The only constant in his life is Frankie and Goo.
WARNING! STRONG LANUAGE, SEX, DRUGS, BLOOD, GUNS, AND SLIGHT ABUSE AHEAD! RATED M FOR A REASON! DO NOT READ IF YOUR UNDER 15!
Can the gang save Mac from himself and his life of crime? Can Mac accept his deep-rooted feelings for Frankie and Goo? Can Bloo stop being Bloo? Find out in the exciting first chapter of… "Till I Collapse"!
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN "FOSTERS HOME FOR IMMAGINARY FRIENDS"! DON'T SUE ME! IM POOR!
A/N2: btw, sorry for the slow progress for my other stories. I'll try to get over my writers block as soon as I can!
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Ch. 1: Fights, Friends, and Frankie! Oh My!
The hit to my face hurt more than the look of hurt on Frankie's face when she walked in on me sorting the ten kilos of hard drugs on my kitchen table. I really should focus on the fight at hand, but my mind was occupied of my thoughts of Frankie Foster. I felt my lunch move into my throat when the angry Mexicans foot was shoved into my stomach.
I fell to my knees and threw up my guts onto the concrete floor of the parking garage. "You think this is a joke? Huh? Chico?" the leader asked as he put his foot to my face. I flew back and landed hard on my back.
The leader of the Mexicans put his foot on my chest and pushed down hard. I felt the air expel from my lungs. The leader reached into his waist band and pulled out what looked to be a 9mm Mini-Uzi.
"You're gonna die, Chico!" I could see his finger tense up to pull the trigger. The only think I could do was close my eyes and think 'I'm sorry Frankie, Goo, Blue. I'm sorry every one…'
I swear I could hear the firing pin hit the bullet's rear end to spark the gunpowder to eject the deadly projectile at my head… then, I heard a yell.
"NO! MAC!"
"BANG!"
…
My head felt heavy, I felt the soft ground move and bounce under me… wait. Soft ground? Bounce and move? I tried to lift myself from my position laying on someone's lap and sit up. A soft yet strong pair of hands pushed me back down. A soft sweet voice told me to stay still, that I was hurt and was being taken to a hospital.
My mind was still to foggy to recognize the voice, but I knew whoever they were, they were friendly. My eyes wouldn't work right. But, being reassured by the voice, I sat still. I slipped back into darkness… hoping the person wouldn't leave me alone…
…
Hospital, 3:00am, Tuesday.
…
My head hurt. The bright light in my face didn't help either. I knew where I was. The smell and the feeling of the sheets gave it away. I was in the hospital. It was night time, I knew. The light wasn't what gave it away. It was the sounds.
The night shift is the quietest shift of the day. A nurse would scurry past the room only every few seconds, no every few minutes. I could tell that there was a person beside on me. They were most likely situated in one of the chairs beside the hospital bed.
I could tell the person was sleeping. The soft intake and exhaling of breath alerted me to that. With the bright light in my face, it was well damn near impossible to open my eyes to look at the person.
I wondered who it could be. Surely, it couldn't be my drunken mother who is at home drinking to my father's absence? It couldn't be my party animal brother who says out all night trying to score with every girl insight? It could NOT be my father who is constantly away on never ending business? Maybe it was a cop, waiting to take me into custody. Maybe it was a lawyer, waiting for me to wake up to press charges for drug possession, the intent to sell, and intent to use.
Maybe, just maybe it could be one of my friends… maybe Madame Foster, waiting to tell me I wasn't welcome to the home anymore. Maybe its Frankie, waiting to tell me how much she hates me. Just maybe, it could be Bloo…
It was too much for my tiered brain to think about anymore. I just wanted to sleep. So, I did…
…
Dream/flashback
…
(A/N: just as a quick note, I have no idea what a kilo of cocaine goes for, so, I guessed. If you know what a kilo can go for, please put into a review for me! Thanks!)
10 kilos of powdered cocaine. A street value of over $500,000. What a score! I knew that I could sell it for about an extra 50 to 60 grand. More than what it was worth. Man, the crack-heads at school would pay extra for genuine Mexican cocaine!
I stood at my kitchen counter weighing, and repacking the stuff into small baggies of different sizes. 1 gram baggies for school, 5 gram baggies for the street, and 10 gram baggies for the big buyers.
Since I could sell 1 kilo for about $140,000 to a local underground night club, I could keep some for myself. Out of the $500,000 I could make off of it all, the Mexicans only expected about $424,000 back. I can make some profit and prove myself a wealthy dealer!
If my reputation was good enough, I could become one of the most important drug dealers in the city! If that happened, I could buy Frankie and Goo the whole world!
… Wait… what?
The ding-dong of my door bell snapped me out of my funk.
"Hey Mac! It's Frankie! Are you dressed?" Frankie yelled through the door. I froze, unsure of what to do. Should I try and hide the drugs scattered about my counter top?
"Mac? Are you ok? I'm coming in!" Frankie inserted her key copy I gave her in case of emergencies. She turned the key, and I could hear the lock turn to unlock.
My brain finally caught up to my body and I yelled, "Frankie! Wait I'm not-"but it was too late.
The door swung open and Frankie walked in. "What? Are you not dressed-"her eyes landed on the counter top where the drugs were scattered about.
"Is that d-drugs? M-mac? What's going on here?" the look of hurt and betrayal sent a shock through my system. I couldn't muster an answer. I just looked at her with a shocked look on my face.
"Mac… how could you… you…" with that, she turned and ran from the room, slamming the front door behind her…
…
Fin… for now…
A/N: Take cover! It's a Cliffy! Anyway, what ya think? Like it? Hate it? So so? Leave a comment/review below! Also remember, NO FLAMES! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM ONLY!
Thank you. Lord V, Out!