Chapter 3: Memories of My Life
Greg went driving throughLas Vegas, his supposed home. His supposed life. But there was no life for him here. There was no life for him anywhere. Everyday he pulled out his happy face mask just to please everyone, to make him seem normal. But inside, he didn't feel happy. He felt sad, miserable, and alone. He didn't have any family in Las Vegas. Just himself and that, to him, was not enough. He wanted a real family, something to call his own.
Greg parked his car in the park and watched as mothers played with their kids on the playground. Little kids running on the sand, sliding down the slides, and swinging higher and higher on the swings. This is what Greg wanted. He wished he had a mother who had taken him to the park. The chance was never given to him. His mother had walked out on him and his father when he was eight. His father was abusive and an alcoholic. His father kept Greg locked up in his room and hit him if he made too much noise or got a bad grade. Greg would make up fantasies just to escape from the life he hated. Then one night his father was murdered by burglars. Greg escaped with his life, except for a stab wound that left a scar. A scar that hurt him inside every time he saw it. A scar that reminded him of his past. After is father was murdered, Greg was sent to countless numbers of foster homes with mothers who were too busy to take him to the park. He bounced around from house to house, never having the time to make many friends. He had his whole life in one backpack full of clothes, some pictures, and whatever he picked up along the way. Although life never treated him well, Greg always had a positive outlook. He worked hard in school, earning good grades and finally graduated early. That was the proudest moment of his life, being able to leave foster homes to go to college. It was something he earned and something he always cherished.
Greg drifted away from his moment and drove home. He had some things he wanted to do to reminisce upon. Greg kept his old backpack from his foster home days. He wanted to dig through it and maybe find some good old memories. Greg pulled into his apartment parking lot and found, to his surprise, Grissom's Tahoe in from of his building. He didn't expect him to come looking for him. Greg left the lot quickly before Grissom could notice Greg there.
" Damn, where am I going to go now?" Greg asked out loud.
He drove down the street and into the heart of the city. One thing he loved about Las Vegas were the lights. They were always on and sparkled some of its light into him, as if giving him a reason to stay. He parked in the strip outside the casinos and dug out his wallet from the center console.
" Gambling, it takes the mind away from heartache," Greg muttered.
He walked into one of the many casinos and searched for a game to play. He decided on poker and got some chips. He sat down at one of the less full tables and anted in. Greg played several hands before he won a significant amount of money. He laid down his cards, a full house, jacks over nines, and beat the dealer who had three kings. Greg left the table with $ 200 more than when he started. Greg had a couple of cocktails and played a few slots before he left. He hoped Grissom would have left his apartment by now.
Greg observed the bright lights that illuminated the city's sky. He paid more attention to lights than his surroundings and ran into a young man.
" Sorry," apologized Greg.
" Sorry my ass," the blonde man said.
He pushed Greg into an alley and held him against a brick wall. Greg tried to push back and fight. He threw some punches around, knocking the punk in the face. The blonde man retaliated and whipped out a knife. He stabbed Greg in the shoulder and then pushed him down to the ground.
" Give me all your money or I'll kill you," he said.
Greg laid still for a moment before he say up and took out his wallet. He gave the kid all $300 he had. The thief looked greedily at the money before he knelt down to Greg's level.
" You got lucky in there, eh?" he said.
Greg shrugged but didn't speak.
" You're about to get lucky again. I've got some of the sweetest drugs in Las Vegas. Take your pick," smiled the thief.
" No, that's okay," Greg said, " I don't need anything."
"Consider it a thanks for your cooperation."
" No, I'm good. Honestly."
" I don't care. I always give back to those who comply."
The kid pulled out a syringe from his coat pocket and tied a bandana around Greg's arm. Greg struggled and protested.
" C'mon let me got and you can keep the drugs. Just let me go."
The kid shook his head and injected the contents of the syringe into Greg's body. Afterwards, he took the bandana off and left Greg alone on the ground.
Greg's arm felt numb and his head dizzy.Hefelt his shoulder and sawhisown blood on his hand. The blood scaredGreg. He could deal with others' but his own made his stomach turn.
He wanted to stay on the ground but he also wanted to go home. He managed to get up and find his car. Greg left the strip and got home before the worst of effects could set in. He shut his door and threw his keys on the counter. Greg grabbed his stomach before he passed out on the couch.