Hell in California

          Once upon a time I had it all. Well I had as much as a man can get when you’re from where I’m from. My names Ton (short for Antonio), and I’m a 17 year old 2nd generation Mexican American living in California, and yes I’m a banger or well I was. I’m 6’2 lean mean 200 even, short black hair (don’t like that bald shit like my boys). I got grey eyes; which adding that to my body and that I’m Latino I got’s girls always swinging from my dick. At 17 I was a player on my block, I sold all over California didn’t matter who’s territory it was, I was a mean son of a bitch and I especially loved selling and fucking the rick kids from across the way. You know the types there families stay close to the hoods all across America to try and prove that the “colored ruffians” haven’t taken over. Funny to cause they live close but there kids all go to school 30 minutes away and they shop in the next city over, they even go to the private hospital. All well, like I said I like their kids.

        My folks know I bang, but what can they say, they bitch too much and I’ll leave, besides with the work I put in I been covering some bills whenever one of them’s been out of work the last two years. Besides I’m still in school and on top of that I’m a state runner, aint no colleges scouted me cause word spreads what I am and they back off; well I did got an invite from a school in Texas, but well the games different there and that shit aint worth it. My mom don’t know I aint going though, since I run she looks at me like one of her kids might make it out and if I make it I’ll take my little brother. I do love that kid, all of 10 an smarter than our whole family, I had been doing something special for him for the last two years, putting money away just for him and other shit. My pops proud to, cause he one of only 3 parents in this place whose kid gots a trophy for anything other than being shot, and I got those to… 3 of em. And this sets up my story.

          It was a hot ass Thursday in August, school had been back in for all of 3 weeks, over the summer I made a bomb amount of money and I had stocked up on my needs for the whole year. After that I had put the rest away into savings, I like having a good amount on hand for emergencies. So now all I had to do was sell and help at home and hustle to get my own spot after I graduate. I really didn’t care if I graduated, but that was for my mom’s (I’d be the first one to graduate). Aint that sad, first one out of 7. We had just finished up a workout and as the coach was preaching to the team about what we needed to do at the first meet of the year set for tomorrow morning, I just left. He didn’t say shit about it; he knew better, he knew I had shit to do, hell he often partook of my wares. I headed to my boy Rico’s and we got ready to drive to Old Town, to sell to some hyperactive Frat boys, but to get there we had to go right through a rival gangs territory. That’s the night my life changed, that’s the night I got shot, again. And this one counted.