Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Tales from the Hood

Tales from the Hood.

I had been out of rehab for about a year, when I decided to move back to Nowata. Three days after I moved into a small two bedroom house with my best friend at the time, I met back up with an old gang member that I had hung out with in the past. He was into an argument with my next door neighbor, who was 6 months pregnant at the time. Apparently she owed him some money and she didn’t want to pay him back at that time, but he didn’t want to take no for answer. When I stepped outside to see what was going on, he was shouting at her at the top of his lungs saying how much of a bitch she was. He saw me and in a fit of rage told me to not trust the fucking bitch because she was a narc.

I wasn’t using any drugs at the time, so I didn’t really feel that would be a problem for me, but I trusted what he had to say. He didn’t have a car and lived all the way on the other side of town, so he asked me if I could give him a ride home. I didn’t have anything else to do, so I invited him in while I got my jacket and keys. I told him I just moved back in town, and was just starting my second year of college He was still doing pretty much the same thing from when I knew him 2 years earlier; robbing houses and stealing for money, all so he could keep using drugs.
We talked a lot about our past, and told each other our own “War Stories” about how we barely got away from the law. It wasn’t long before I was agreeing to a party that week-end at my house with a few of his gang friends. I don’t know why I agreed, I guess the lure of that kind of lifestyle was just to intriguing to say no too.

It was one wild party that week-end. In all over 15 gang members showed up, along with a few of their friends. I had bought over $70 worth of hard liquor and 6 point beer from Kansas so there was plenty enough for everyone to drink until they puked. Liquor wasn’t the only drug available, in my bathroom there was a group of guys sharing a needle, shooting up crank. In another room there were several people smoking weed, which I joined. Before I realized it I was talked into giving a ride to a few of the guys to a house on the west side of town. I was drunk and high but somehow I managed to make it where we were going without wrecking. I waited in the car as they ran in to pick up ‘something’. The next thing I knew everyone came running out of the house, and the sounds of gunfire rang throughout the air. I put my car in gear and was ready to get the hell out of there when 4 of the gang quickly re-entered my car and began shouting go.
We drove for several miles as I listened to them brag about robbing the house we were just at. I thought I had gotten away from that kind of lifestyle but there I was right in the middle of a robbery, and I didn’t say no. We went back to my house where they divided up the loot, even given me a cut since I was the driver. I was now a part of the gang whether I wanted to be or not. For the next few weeks I became a more active member of the gang, robbing, stealing, doing drugs, and just being a menace. The police looked at me as the leader because I was the oldest one in the group by 7 months, and I had the transportation that allowed for our criminal activities to take place.

I hated the lifestyle at times, but at other times it was the only thing that made me feel alive, and that feeling I wanted to forever feel.

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