Trapped In The London Ghetto Liam's Story | Teen Ink

Trapped In The London Ghetto Liam's Story

August 20, 2009
By Price Awuah BRONZE, London, Other
Price Awuah BRONZE, London, Other
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Chapter 1 - Life After The Big Bro.
I gazed out of my bedroom window staring into the morning sky thinking about all that had happened around me over the past few days. The murder of my big bro Jermaine had not yet hit me. He had been the same big bro who had always been there for me when I needed him, the same big bro who had vowed to never leave me in this world alone, the same big bro whom I had witnessed laying across the park floor pleading for help after being stabbed in the chest three times. My brother didn’t deserve to die the way he did. Another black boy getting ‘shanked’ in the hood was rarely a surprise where I lived, but the fact it was my brother made it all that more astonishing, that fact it was my brother made want to turn back the hands of time to have prevent him from leaving the house on the day of his murder. “Liam I’m just nipping off to the shop real quick, do you want anything baby?” that was the voice of my mother who was struggling the most despite pretending like the death of her son Jermaine had not affected at her all. I always had my worries for the ‘mumzie,’ (a more grown up manner of calling her mummy.) She was an addict, one that heavily relied on drugs in order to make her feel ‘peng’ as she would always say to me. The mumzie did what she liked; some days I would hardly see her at home because she would always be out raving or doing ‘tings’ with some of the mandem from our block. I never blamed her for all the things she did. I loved the mumzie too much to ever turn against her, a lot of things had happened in her life, things you would never imagine a woman of 34 years of age to have gone through on her own.“Nah its kool, just going make sure Jermaines room is looking tidy innit.” The mumzie smiled after I told her that, but I could tell just by looking deep into her dark brown eyes that she was hurting for her son, hurting for him to make her smile like he used to. She closed my bedroom door and left, I knew I wouldn’t be seeing her again for the next few days, I knew she would be back to her familiar ways. The funeral had been emotional for everyone who had known my brother Jermaine. His close friends from the hood had attended the funeral each holding a can of Jermaine’s favourite fizzy pineapple drink you would always see him drinking. Jermaine’s girlfriend Chantel also never stopped crying at the funeral, the loss of her hubby was too much for her to bear; she and Jermaine had been together for 6 years and were deeply in love. She promised to be there for me if I ever needed anything in the future, but I knew she was lying, it was only a matter of time until she got over the death of my brother and found another bredrin in our estate willing to give her what she wanted. Life without Jermaine was just getting started, I couldn’t be that little Liam anymore, and if no one was going to help me through my struggles I would have to rely on myself in finally escaping from what we called the London Ghetto.

Chapter 2 – The Hood Life
The mumzie had been away from yard for 5 days now and I hadn’t seen or even received a call from her. Times like this would always stress me out. How would I able to get food to eat if there was nothing in the house for me to cook? It was a Friday evening and I was feeling unbelievably hungry. It was the type of hunger you would feel deep inside your stomach after only living on crisps for the last few days. All that remained inside the deep pockets of my battered down Evisu jeans were a few coins left found in the kitchen draws earlier that day. I tried to get things off my mind by swtiching the television onto MTV Base… a sudden blunt notification appeared on the screen prompting me to subscribe for the channel. It was clear what had happened, the mumzie hadn’t paid for the sky, not to forget the heating that had also disconnected itself the day before. This was the usual hood life for me, I would have to wait for the mumzie to arrive before things could return back to ‘normal’.. back to a way I found at least a little bit comfortable. I didn’t want to stay at yard on my own; Fridays usually always meant a shubz was about where I lived, (shubz being another word for a party) so I had to take the initiative and find one in order to get some food to eat. No credit on my phone meant I couldn’t call any of my guys to ask if there was actually any shubz on, but because I was so determined to find some food to eat I quickly put on my jet black airforce ones in pursuit of having a decent meal for a change.“Yo bruv! I aint seen you in time unoe! Wot u saying doe u kool yeeh?” that was the deep distinctive voice of Samuel one of the mandem from my block. He wasn’t a yout that I particularly liked, especially the fact he always had ‘beef’ with my brother Jermaine when he was still alive. In my block no one had real love for anyone; they did what they could for themselves, if you had something better then them, they would make sure they did everything they could to take it from you. That was life around here; it was just the life that we lived. “I’m kool fam, manz in a hurry doe so ill catch you later innit” I said that just to avoid having a conversation with the boy. He was well known around the block for being the owner of a silencer gun, everyone respected him, no one ever crossed his path apart from my brother. “Ite kool, need anything holla at me innit, unoe how me and your bro were tight back in the day before he got slumped.” He said that with a slight grin on his face, it was as if he was glad my brother had died, Samuel had always hated him, they had never seen eye to eye all because of jealousy. I couldnt let Samuel affect me. I carried on my journey in search of a shubz, I carried on my journey in a hood life...

Chapter 3 – No Choice
8.23pm and I was still on the block in search of a shubz which was bound to be about. The cold weather made the task of doing so even more that difficult. I walked past my local Chinese restaurant with the scent from the kitchen swiftly rushing into my attentive nostrils. Special fried rice! I could recognize that famous smell from a mile away, but I wasn’t any closer to yaming that into my mouth, it was all about finding a shubz I hadn’t even been invited to, it was either that or making money some way or the other. A strong vibration began to be felt deep inside the pockets of my jeans, it was ringing, but more importantly... it was the mumzie who was belling me. “Liam, how you doing baby? Ill be home very soon, just a bit tied down at the moment.” I knew she was lying, it sounded like she was with a man, I could always tell by the way she put on one of them low pitched voices so the breh wouldn’t notice she was on the phone. “Mum I haven’t eaten properly in 5days unoe! Cheese & and onion crisps isn’t exactly your average jerk chicken & rice". I was clearly frustrated when I said that, not eating properly for 5days could make you unexpectedly change in character after a while. “Aww my little Liam just go make a sandwich or something, ill talk to u later though honey…..” She locked off the phone quick time, she didn’t care how I was feeling, she would rather stay at a mans house then look after her own son who had not yet come to terms with the death of his older brother. You needed bread to make a sandwhich, I didnt even have that in the house. For the first time in my life I was angry with the mumzie, I felt betrayed and abandoned, a mother wasn’t meant to treat her own child like this, I just didn’t deserve everything that was happening to me. A tear began to flow down my eyes, I never cried, I didn’t show pain, but I couldn’t take it no more, I needed to act fast. 5 pounds would do me nicely, but where was I to turn to? Where was I to go without my brother & now the mumzie not being around? I was confused; Samuel was the only person where I knew I could get some ‘help’ even as much as I disliked him. My story had just begun, I was truly trapped in the London ghetto.

Chapter 4 - Unfamiliar endz
The skies were much darker now and I had been out for at least 3 hours; my phone battery on my rusty old Nokia 3210 had died out. I didn’t even know what the time was, that’s how bad the situation had become. My body was becoming weaker & weaker as each second passed by, any sort of food had to be inside my stomach, or my body was bound to give up on me. It was time to go look for Samuel; I knew he would definitely help me if I asked him. He lived on the block opposite the Morley’s fried chicken restaurant young youtes would always buy for their wifeys. Small droplets of rain began to fall from the dark night clouds so I hurriedly pulled up the hood of my new J.D mckenzie black jacket the mumzie had bought for me last week after Jermaine’s funeral. Walking down the pavement of my estate were 3 guys smoking big large zoots only the hardest guys could handle. One had a lazy red eye probably an after effect from the strong substance he was consuming. All three of them gave me a screw face as if to say I should move away from them quickly before they clamped me in the face. I didn’t want to cause any trouble, so I did just that. I had eventually arrived at Samuels’s estate, an estate which was well known for sex, drugs & violence. Many brehs had been stabbed in his stairway over the years, so I made the easy decision to take the lift on the bottom floor. I stood there nervously waiting for the lift to arrive, my heart rhythm increasing rapidly every time a yout would walk past me with a sharp glare. Where I came from, if you were caught ‘slipping’ in an estate you wasn’t from, then you were always likely to either get rushed or even worse… shanked. “Ground floor opening” that was the computerised voice of the lift as it opened for me to enter, I slowly made my way towards the lift before a strong arm grabbed hold of my shoulder.“Ay fam, u aint from these parts! U must think you’re a general coming all hoodied up with your swag bait jacket.” The voice sounded intimidating; like somebody had really annoyed him to the extent he was ready to eliminate an ‘enemy.’ “I came to see Samuel man, I aint here for trouble bruv, allow me please!!” I was begging to be let go. I was only 16; I hadn’t really had any conflict with an older in my life, the most only being minor play fights I would have with Jermaine back in the day. “Samuel?, raah now you really want me to bring out the the tool!” The tool only meant one thing, and I wasn’t prepared to lose my life only because I needed some money to buy some food. “I swear down, I came to see Samuel because he told me to holla at him any time I needed anything.” At this point I began to cry heavily, as this tall guy in a red hoodie, put his hands down his trousers ready to pull out something. “Ite, we’re going right up to my boy Samuel’s yard, if he says your gassing, bruv be prepared to understand why they call me a certified killer.” He dragged me into the lift as if I was his average pit-bull, he dragged me into the lift as if I was about to be another of his ‘victims.’ The yout banged his fist against the 4th floor button with a type of rage I had never seen before, I was about to learn my fate, but the question was whether I was about to join my brother Jermaine in the same cemetery; or whether I would be spared by Samuel who had promised to help me if I needed anything. My story was beginning to take shape, the story of being trapped in the London Ghetto.

Chapter 5 - Wasting time
“4th floor, Doors opening” the hoodied yout threw me out the lift onto the ground and kicked in me in the face as I lay helpless across the stiff concrete floor. The top of my forehead began to bleed slowly as a result of what the guy had done to me. He stood there and kissed his teeth. “Little man thinks he’s a general coming to my bits like its nothing! Lemme go call the older Samuel to come deal with you still.” At this point I was ready to die, I knew Samuel was involved with the murder of my older brother, so why would he want to spare my life? The breh in the red hoodie made his way towards the door number 18 and fixed his self up before knocking on the door. Samuel was feared by so many, that if you even if you appeared looking all rough, he would always punish you harshly. Samuel opened the door wearing a string vest with a glass of brandy in his left hand. “Wagwunn boss! Man like me has found a little intruder rolling like he’s a general round our bits, he try beg say he knows you!” The tall hoodied yout looked confident and proud as he told Samuel what he had done to my head; Samuel surprisingly didn’t look amused though, he was occupied with a woman before the hoodied yout had interrupted him. “Nathan how many times have I told you not to knock on my door when I’m with the galdem huh, you think I got time for your games yeah? If this ting you’ve brought to my yard is a waste of my time, fam you better scatter from my face in 5 seconds.” Samuel was getting frustrated more and more as the yout now known as Nathan insisted I was an intruder. “Fam come see innit, hes rolling with a black hoodie and everyting bruv, you even told me always to hype if I see unfamiliar faces in our endz.” Samuel kissed his teeth once more and slowly made his way towards me as I lay bleeding across the floor. My body began to tremble with fear; I was now resigned to losing my life, and joining my brother in an ‘unknown world.’ My voice felt cold and dry, the body had shut down due to a lack of food, and to make things worse stood one of the most powerful men from the hood. Everyone wanted to be like Samuel, he had the cars, the girls and the money. If you ever crossed his path it would almost certainly mean severe injury. “Liam? Omdzz, Nathan I cant believe you’ve brought me this!” Nathan looked excited, he assumed Samuel was giving him ratings, little did he know what was about to happen next. “Nathan come here, lemme show you summin nice for what you’ve just brought to me.” Nathan couldn’t believe his luck; he bopped towards Samuel as if he was a lost puppy who had just found his owner. What happened next is something I would never ever forget in my life. Samuel pulled up a sharp blade knife out of his grey converse tracksuit bottoms, and fiercely sliced Nathan across the cheek. Blood was everywhere, almost looking like the days on special occasions when you would pop a champagne bottle after shaking it and all the liquid pouring out. Nathans eyes burst out, he was stunned, as he quickly ran down the stair case before Samuel could do any further damage to his face. I was in disbelief, but this was the least of my worries, I critically needed something to eat, I couldn’t hold on much longer.

Chapter 6 - Doors opening
I lay static across the dirty surroundings of the fourth floor. My forehead was starting to bleed much heavier now. Everything seemed a blur to me as I tried to lift myself up after witnessing Nathan being assaulted by Samuel. There was no energy left within me, I couldn’t drag myself up, my body had given up on me. Samuel stood beside me with the bloodied knife still in the palms of his right dry hand.“Yo Chantel get over here quick with a dry towel and some of that Courvoisier brandy you were drinking!” Samuel appeared as if he was panicking, he truly looked genuinely concerned of the poor state in which I had been left in. The reason for his concern wasn’t what I was surprised about. All I wanted to know was what the hell my dead brother’s wifey (girlfriend) was doing with a man she knew my brother had beef with. How could she betray him like that? Having a relationship with your hubby for 6 years must have surely meant something to her, or maybe she was just a snake all along. “Oh my god! Liam who did this to you!?” Chantel had realised it was me who lay helpless on the ground, she looked ashamed and almost embarrassed at the fact I had found her with Samuel together at this time of the day. Chantel was one of the most beautiful girls a human being could ever come across. She was one of those rare females who didn’t need an expensive makeup kit to make her face look pretty; the mandem would always try chat her up when they saw her alone on roads. Chantel was special in the way she didn’t play hard to get, she was just hard to get. Samuel had tried for years to make her his own, from offering her gifts, to knocking on her door constantly; she just wouldn’t buy into his fake charms. The situation soon got worse when Samuel soon found out that my brother Jermaine was doing a ‘thing’ with Chantel. He was obviously jealous, and it was ever since then that those two would never stop hyping to each other. “Pass me the damn towel and stop asking the yout silly questions bitch!” Samuel clearly wasn’t in the mood to be listening to Chantel’s voice; all he wanted was for the cut across my head to be attended to as soon as possible. Samuel began to slowly pour a small amount of the strong Courvoisier brandy onto a white dry towel from the bottle in which chantel had brought. “Oi fam I beg you not scream when I do this ting, I aint gonna lie, it might hurt you a bit” I moved my head slightly as a way of signaling to Samuel he could begin to rub the towel across my head. I knew it would hurt, but did I have any other choice? “Ah, that’s enough now” I said that to Samuel as I pulled the towel out of his hands. The pain was unbearable, like someone was gradually burning my face with boiling hot water you would get from your household kitchen kettle. Samuel looked at me and smiled with a look to say my head was going to be alright, he forcefully pulled me up from the ground with the bloodied knife he had earlier used hanging out of his tracksuit pockets. Chantel quickly rushed over to me with the type of speed even Usain Bolt would have been proud of. She used her soft brown hands to slowly stroke the small bruises on my face, and then gave me a little kiss on the cheek. I was confused, but I would be a fool if I told you I wasn’t enjoying this exclusive attention from her. “Liam you need some food darling, look at the state of your face” she was telling me like I didn’t know myself, food was the whole cause of me having a cut forehead along with Courvoisier being used on me as if I was a wounded animal. “I think I’ve got some fried dumplings and rice left at my yard, lemme take you there now babes.” Those few words that came out of her mouth were best I had heard the whole day. Dumplings? Well that was more than I was expecting, at least now I could eat some real food for a change. Samuel evidently didn’t look pleased as he walked straight into his yard and slammed his door shut. He probably wanted to go on with the ‘action’ he and Chantel were up to before Nathan had knocked on the door. I was afraid of what he might do to me in the future, I was afraid I would get far much worse than what Nathan had experienced. Chantel slowly helped me towards the lift as we waited for it to arrive to the fourth floor. “Doors opening” the lift doors opened swiftly as I walked into it once more. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I would come here, Samuel would have to see to me after what I had witnessed him do with a knife. Fried dumplings and rice was my main priority and then going back to my yard where I could get some valuable sleeping time. I was going to need it as my story continued.

Chapter 7 – Dumplings & Rice
I stood eagerly behind Chantel as she pulled out her keys to open her door. I couldn’t wait to get some of her hot brown dumplings into my over starved body. She pushed the door open turning the corridor lights along the way. I was relieved to be accompanied with an older person for a change. Being alone without the mumzie for the last 5 days had made me realise just how much she meant to me, but more importantly that my mumzie really needed some profesional help. “Liam, just go into the living room and turn the tele on while I prepare your food babe.” I sighed with relief as Chantel said those words to me; my brand new Mckenzie jacket had been ruined with all dirt stains from when Nathan had dragged me across the floor. I slowly undone my zip and carefully placed the unrecognisable jacket onto Chantel’s bright red sofa. Her living room was equivalent to the level of her beauty with everything being well organized across the room. A Sony plasma TV with a brand new home cinema system made you question whether this house was indeed a council flat in one of the roughest area’s of London. Just 2 doors from her yard was my yard, a filthy and neglected form of a ‘home.’ What more could I have expected from a house in which had been never been properly cleaned by the mumzie? I moved my hand across the spotless sky TV remote control which lay neatly upon the gleaming glass table. The widescreen television turning on to my delight, I immediately switched the channel towards MTV base, a channel in which my mumzie couldn’t even afford to subscribe for me! Lil Wayne was on the screen, showing off his kitchen in a programme entitled ‘cribs,’ he had everything in life that I didn’t, but this only spurned me on to achieve what I wanted to which was eventually building a future for me and the mumzie away from the harsh ghetto we were living in. “Oh look at Lil Wayne these days, if only I had his money jheeze I would do so much for myself! Anyways there you go baby, dumplings and rice, hope you enjoy it.” Chantel cautiously placed the hot food upon the table for me to eat. I almost dribbled as I quickly got into yaming (eating) the deliciously cooked dumplings. Since I had seen Chantel with Samuel I hadn’t even said a word to her, I was still angry at the way she had chosen to move on with her life so suddenly after my brothers’ murder. We needed to talk; it was going to take more than dumplings and rice to make me forget about what she had done. After I had finished my food I would certainly make sure I made my feelings known. After I had finished, there would almost certainly be beef between me and her.

Chapter 8 – Smashing the funkyhouse
I had just completed the last big spoonful of the well cooked rice into my mouth and could hardly breathe any more air into my body’s lungs. The food was probably the best I had eaten from another person apart from the mumzie. It was really that ‘peng’ (the urban vocabulary for really nice) Chantel had earlier placed an extremely chilled can of Rubicon mango on the table for me to drink with the rice and dumplings. She was doing her best to please me; it was plain to see as she would always ask me how I was every 5 minutes. A straight answer was all I gave to her; a straight answer was all she needed to know about me. “What’s wrong Liam, why’ve you gone all quiet on me? You know how I loved your brother from the bottom of my heart, but Samuel came to me when I needed somebody to talk to, don’t take it the wrong way, Jermaine’s still my number one. ” It was at that point I felt a type of anger I had never experienced in my life, she was chatting a load of bull! She was talking to me like I was still a little yout. “Skeeen (ok) he’s still your number one yeah? Well he’s obviously been de recruited to your number two if you’re playing around with a wastemen like Samuel!” I couldn’t hide my rage; I wanted her to really understand how much pain she was putting me through. How could a girl who had been in a relationship with her partner of over 6 years be going round other mans house just 2 days after the funeral of her hubby? I just didn’t make sense to me, or was I missing something out? “ You don’t know how good a help Samuels been to me since Jermaine died, he’s been there for me when I’ve been at home alone crying for your brother to come back, do you know how that feels Liam? So don’t be telling me I’ve de recruited your brother to my number two, do you hear me?” tears began to stream down her eyes like rivers you would normally see on the discovery channel, she looked miserable and let down by the outburst I had shown to her, but I didn’t care the slightest because as for as I was concerned her explanation just wasn’t good enough. “He’s been good a help yeah? Skeen, I bet he has! In fact I bet you and him have been doing a thing from day, Chantel you’re a joke, I thought you were better than that, I guess you’ve proved me wrong, if only if Jermaine was alive to see what your doing.” Emotions had begun to reach boiling point, and things immediately soon went from bad to worse when I started to hear annoying funky house tune beginning to play on Chantel’s TV. It was one of those tunes everyone would have on their phones and would never stop playing it until they eventually rinsed it out. Grabbing hold of the plate in which I had finished the fried dumpling and rice on, I threw it onto the expensive television screen smashing its glass frame instantly. In front of me was left a large hole on the screen as smoke started to emerge. It wasn’t my fault I was vexed, or hurt, but I needed to calm down. I needed to calm down right now before I did something that I knew I would regret for the rest of my life.

Chapter 9 – Forgive & Forget
“Liam!! Look what you’ve done to the television, what’s wrong with you? Chantel was furious with me; I had destroyed probably the most expensive possession in her yard, and to tell you the truth…. I was glad. I wish I had burned down her whole damn house that very day. We just couldn’t be friendly with each other any more if she still decided to see Samuel. “Just go to hell! I don’t care if your swag TV is mashed up now, I don’t care if Samuel made you feel better after Jermaine died, you’re a snake! And I don’t ever want to see you in my life again!” All those words that came out of my mouth were one of the hardest things I had ever said to a female. How could I say that to a girl who would always picked me up from school in her heavy black whip when I was only a neek year 10? How could I say that to the same girl who had bought me my first pair of exclusive vintage Vans trainers for my 15th birthday? My anger towards her had caused me to forget all that. My anger had allowed me to become a person I really wasn’t. Everything immediately went silent across the room as Chantel gazed gloomily into my eyes. She knew I didn’t in truth mean what I had said to her; however she had cared for me so greatly that those words had beyond doubt broken her fragile heart. She didn’t deserve the treatment I was giving her. I had jumped into conclusion far too soon. I began to shed tears as I realised just how deep I had been to chantel, Jermaine would have hated to see us two arguing. “Come here baby, it’s not your fault, its mine; I know it’s been hard for you to cope since your brother passed away so soon. We both loved him and he knew that.” Together we stood in the centre of the room as Chantel held me close to her chest. She gave me one of the most emotional hugs I would ever experience in my life. I felt safe around her warm arms; I had forgiven for all that she had done. It was time for us both to finally forget about everything that had happened between us. Chantel went on to later clear all the chaos I had made to her living room, and together we both carefully moved her wrecked television into the small balcony opposite her kitchen. It was while we were in the kitchen both drinking some Ribena blackcurrant juice someone suddenly began to bang against the door loudly. Who would want to visit Chantel at 3oclock in the morning? She was confused as well as I was as she quickly made her way towards the door. She slowly unhooked the chain in which secured the door, and then she opened it. I watchfully stood behind her back in case anything was to happen. I was eager to know who had chosen to knock on a door at such an unusual time. “Where the rass is Liam young gal?” the voice sounded familiar as Chantel questioned who the mystery person was. He didn’t want to answer. He just wanted to see me. I couldn’t quite get a glimpse of his face, so I directly told Chantel to move out the way. She did just that, I looked up… and there with an addidas rucksack over his arms, stood my dad. The dad I hadn’t seen in over 4 years since he was put into prison for gun charges. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; my dad had chosen to return back into my life…

Chapter 10 – The return of Mr Shootz
My heart froze as this tall figure of a father stood gaping at me. He looked rough, with his terrible picky hair and not to mention the long beard he had now chosen to grow on his face. Old faded black combat styled trousers and some brown hefty timberland boots were the final pieces of the garments to complete my father’s dress code. His name was Benjamin, but everyone called him ‘shootz’ because he had a thing for guns. My father had grown up in tough parts of Kingston in his hometown of Jamaica. His father was a well known gangster in those parts who would always bring a whole range of guns home to show to my dad when he was only 6years of age. Maybe that’s the reason why my dad had been put in prison for being caught with a gun while he went to strip club during a night out with his friends. “Oi little man aren’t you going to say wagwann to you dad nah?” I didn’t know what to say to a person I hadn’t seen for over four years. A man who despite his love for guns and criminal activity had always made sure everything I wanted I got. There was even a time on my 14th birthday when my dad took me to Thorpe Park so I could ‘draw’ girls for myself, he had given me two 50 pound notes so I wouldn’t have any problems in buying things for the girls. I remember how ‘showah’ (Previlged) I felt when he gave me those two red notes; I remember telling my father how I would never stop loving him no matter what would ever happen between us. “When did you come out of pen? And how did you know I was here in the first place?” I struggled to look into his face as I said those words; I just couldn’t make myself believe that my dad was actually in front of me. “You’re still the same old Liam; you’ve never stopped asking questions since you were a little yout. Man just come out like 2 hours ago still, and I bumped into that Samuel bruddah who told me you where here. Enough with the long ting, where’s your mumzie and Jermaine at, aint seen them in time boy!” My heart sunk when he said Jermaine’s name. He hadn’t even been told by anyone that his eldest son had been murdered. I felt almost sick and ashamed that a father hadn’t even been informed of a situation as serious as this one. How was I going to have the guts to tell my dad what had happened to his precious son? All of this was just too much for me to bear. Chantel quickly stepped in for me, she had instantly realised what had happend, and that she would have to tell my father sooner or later. “Sarah’s gone on a little holiday for a few days, and Jermaine... Well Jermaine was killed last week.” Chantel said it quick and simple, she couldn’t hold back or else she would break down in tears herself. My dad’s eyes opened wide out as he dropped his large black rucksack. I was scared what he might do as he began to tense his fists. “Gal thinks she’s funny you know, about my Jermaine’s dead, just tell me where he is and stop fronting on me woman!” Chantel and I went silent, he really thought she was telling lies; he had to understand that his son had been killed. “Dad she isn’t lying, Jermaines dead, he was stabbed in the chest 3 times. The feds still haven’t found out who did it though” My dad began to laugh, and that usually only meant one thing with him… he was pissed off to the maximum. “So you mean to tell me no one could phone up my prison and tell me that my rasclart son had been shanked! I bet I know who did it, it was probably that bloody fool Samuel who thinks he’s a UK gangster, Ok then let him see how it feels to cross the line with Mr shotz.” The power in my dad’s voice as he said those words was electrifying, he wasn’t ramping, he was going to find Samuel and teach him a lesson he would never forget. I knew this because my dad had killed Samuels’s dad when I was only 7. I had always been told to keep my mouth shut about the issue, and now things were about to reach a level in which I had never experienced in my life before. My dad spat into ground, and quickly ran down the staircase of the Ghetto estate in which he was well known to. Trapped in a London Ghetto was just getting started. Fireworks were about to explode…

The author's comments:
My motives for the story is to give people the opportunity to realise that even if they're living in rough circumstances it doesn’t mean they cant strive to make the situation positive. The idea is compiled by a lot of things I have seen over the years, it’s a story a lot of people can relate to, I’m sure of that, or else I wouldn’t write about it. Quote from "Price Awuáh" the creator of the story.

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This article has 1 comment.

i<3steven! said...
on Feb. 24 2010 at 4:28 pm
i<3steven!, Newcastle, California
0 articles 0 photos 95 comments

Favorite Quote:
Inside Joke

wow, that was a lot of wirting but it was quite good,m i think you shuld just post one chapter at a time tho

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