Okay, after pondering and pondering over it, I’ve decided to share some of my writing with you. I was never going to because Uno.) I never wanted the criticism/backlash B.) I just never thought I was ready and 3.) It isn’t copyrighted and if it was good, I didn’t want mofos stealing my shit! LOL! But after reading a monthly newsletter I get from this writing course, I decided to step out on faith. So anyway, here it goes. And don’t just read it, please tell me what you think. Give me your HONEST opinions in the comment section.
I gotta stay focused. Gotta do what I came here to do. This is my first time out so I’m nervous as fuck. But I’m ready; have been for awhile now. It just took me a minute to get my mind right so I could do this and make it home alive. Once I heard the news report, I got on the phone with my old pal Charlie, a retired Secret Agent, now a part time security guard. A waste of a good talent, I know. But his tracking skills are priceless. And he never questions my requests. Dewayne Gibson is his name. Charlie was able to tell me this man’s life story in 20 minutes. No father, drug addict mother and a regular visitor to medium security on Hall Street was just the start. But he turns around to makes the worst decision of his life when decided to beat and rape that girl in Swansea a month ago. Something inside me just clicked. Maybe because she looks too much like my younger sister. Maybe because I needed that adrenaline rush that I’ve been missing since Iraq. I don’t know what it is but when I took a look at his mug shot and that dirty smirk on his face, I knew it was only a matter of time before I introduced myself to him.
It’s a nice night for a delivery. I’m geared up and ready to go. There’s enough gas in my motorcycle to get me to Swansea without a problem. Charlie called me yesterday to tell me that Gibson was out on bond. Perfect timing. He won’t be expecting this. And she won’t either. But before I hit Swansea, I need to stop off in Washington Park to see Buck, my artillery man. Charlie gave me the location and told me I should expect trouble. I figured my first time wouldn’t be easy. I tell my dog Chet to guard my one bedroom apartment with his life and I head off into the night. I exit off of 64 into Washington Park where Buck had me loaded and ready. He tries to pry, mostly because he hasn’t heard from me in awhile. We served in the war together and have been tight ever since we were sent home early together back in ‘05; his was an injury and mine was a death. I haven’t seen him since my sister’s funeral and I’m sure he thinks that because they never found her killer, I must be on some vengeance shit. That may have some truth to it, but I don’t plan on killing anyone. For me, it’s about justice. My brand. I try and think of what I wanted for my sister. She was a tough cookie and she didn’t go without a fight. I’m sure if she had a chance, she wouldn’t want anyone to make that bastard pay for what he did but herself. So even though I could’ve, I didn’t go for him. It would’ve been too obvious anyway. I remember being “watched” for months after her death by the local police. With my military background, the cops made sure I didn’t go off on my own to try to find him. They were so busy monitoring me, no wonder they still haven’t caught the guy.
I told Buck I would chat with him later, hopped on my bike and headed for the highway. I can’t begin to tell you how many smokes I had on my ride. The military had me prepared for alot of shit but not anything this personal. Gibson wasn’t an enemy, he was prey.
Okay, let me have it.
