*****
"I'll give you something and then you have to tell me what you know about it." The man across the table had told me his name was Walter. I was in a room with him and the four men from the car.
We had driven into a rundown neighbourhood and found a house that looked pretty neat and well taken care of, only to find that when you walked inside you found a bunch of people packing drugs in every room. Clyde had said there was a warehouse of people doing the same not that far away. He called it my 'merchandise'. Idiot.
I shrugged. Walter chuckled and opened a little bag before giving me a small square after he slid the bag in front of me. I stared down at the thing between my fingers.
"What is that?" He asked.
"Uhm... It looks like a miniature version of those carpets you get for your kids or you find in kindergarten classes. You know, the colourful puzzle carpets with the numbers and letters on it... so... that? But for dolls or something." I had no idea what I was looking at so I was throwing out whatever came to my mind.
A chorus of laughter broke out around me and I looked up confused, but feeling quite stupid because of the reaction I had received.
"You're an idiot." Clyde said when he had composed himself and I bit the inside of my cheek annoyed.
"Where did you guys find this one?" Walter asked.
"It was a mistake. Long story." Clyde replied shaking his head. "Anyway, work with him? You know how Sergio is about new help."
"The same way he is about all help?" Clyde shrugged in reply and Walter shook his head, "Why don't you just get rid of him if he's this clueless?"
"Sergio doesn't want him dead. I don't know why, I mean we could just get some other college kid to do this." Clyde rolled his eyes. My ears picked up.
Why would they kill me? I had never done anything! Oh... I saw more than enough... that wasn't my fault though. They were the dumbasses having a drug related gun-fight in the middle of the neighbourhood while it was early enough for stores to still be open.
Walter chuckled.
"Fine. What you're holding is a thing called Acid, Alexander. Ever heard of it?" He asked.
"Yeah. In Drug Wars. I used to make millions off the cheap home acid and police raids." They all stared at me like I was insane. "It... it's a game I found on my friend's PC..."
"Oh my God." Clyde threw his hand to his face, "I'm leaving you with him, I'm sorry. I can't. I have more important things to do even if this is entertaining."
Clyde and the others left quickly, and a few minutes later it was just Walter and me with two of his armed guards while he handed me drugs telling me what they were and how much they cost.
"Alright, so something you need to remember: You never sell it for less than it is. More, fine, take the profit but if you sell it for less you have to pay the money back or you get a not-so-nice gift through your head from Sergio or someone he hired to 'take care' of you." Walter motioned to his guard who lifted his gun. “Also, you don’t want to steal from us.”
I nodded.
"So, Alex. What's the number one rule here?"
"Don't lose money?" I asked.
"No. The dealer doesn't use what he sells." He said.
"Oh, right." I nodded, "Like in those movies." Don’t get high on your own supply. Except it doesn't make sense because I don't see how getting high on my own merchandise is worse than getting killed for creating a loss for Sergio.
He laughed. "You are probably the most naive dealer Clyde has ever brought here." He said.
"I'm not a dealer." I shook my head.
"You are now." He said.
I looked at the drugs scattered on the table and sighed at the truth in his words. If dad saw me now... I felt my heart sink at the thought of how disappointed my parents would be. I was becoming one of the people they put away, one of the people they despised... probably one of the people that murdered them... I was so disgusted in myself now.
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I sat in the living room chewing on my lip as I stared blankly at the TV, my mind not even close to being in the same room as my body. I had cut myself off after I realised I had smoked my third cigarette since getting back to the house two hours ago and left my cigarettes upstairs so now I was trying to stop myself from getting up and smoking more by chewing on my lip. I stopped as I tasted blood and instead began tapping my fingers against each other.
I had my exams in a few weeks, I needed to be doing revision, I had assignments to do. Luckily I could not remember needing to hand anything in that week. It didn't matter, I had things to finish. I could not be risking my grades by just neglecting everything!
"Hey." I kept my focus ahead of me and made no attempt to acknowledge the person as they walked by me. I hoped they would take the hint and leave me alone, but I wasn't lucky enough for that as I felt a smack on the back of my head.
"We're talking to you." I got up and turned around swinging my fist as I did, it connected with his face creating a loud smack in the room. He stumbled back a little before regaining his footing.
"Don't touch me again." I glared at him as he rubbed his chin. The others chuckled around us.
"He was just playing, calm down, Kid." Clyde laughed as he grabbed my shoulders to turn me back around before he pushed me on to the couch forcefully.
"You hungry?" He asked.
I clenched my teeth but didn't answer him as I glared up at him. I felt like I was a defiant child and my father was reprimanding me. Like the first time I woke up in that room, I was surrounded by everyone, but this time we were in the living room. While everyone else was still glaring at me or just staring at me like they had done last time, Clyde was standing looking down at me amused while Sergio sat on the couch with his face straight but his eyebrow raised slightly in amusement as he watched me.
"You're not talking?" Clyde chuckled.
I didn't reply.
"You know, we cannot help you if you sit there silently like a child throwing a tantrum." Sergio said.
"Oh, you can't help me if I tell you what I want anyway." I glared at him.
"Boss?" Someone grabbed a baseball bat and I felt myself tense.
"No, that won't be necessary, Frank." Sergio chuckled. I looked at the Frank guy wondering how deep his anger problems ran, I mean, a bat? I didn't even attack anyone. He obviously needs some type of counselling... "He's just being the grumpy child he is."
I snorted. "I'm a child? What does that make you?"
I watched him bite the inside of his cheek and I regretted saying anything. He was losing his patience and I knew I did not want to be in a room full of his men when he lost it. But were they really the problem? I mean judging by our sizes and our predicted levels of fighting experience, he could beat me all on his own.
I let out a sigh as I rubbed my hands together.
"I need my work." I said.
"Does it have anything to do with what we have you here for?" Sergio asked.
"No, but –"
"Then you don't need it." He cut me off. I got up shoving Clyde.
"Look, I get that all of you are fine with being uneducated shit that steal and hurt and do whatever the hell else it is that you do for a living – or for fun, but I am not. I have exams in a few weeks, I need my work. You cannot keep me here without my things!" I yelled at him clenching my fist.
He got up glaring at me as he stepped up to me but I refused to be intimidated by him and did not move my eyes from his.
"Watch me." He said simply. His calmness and nonchalance about everything was getting to me.
I swung at him but he caught my fist and twisted my arm causing me to turn so my back faced him and I was facing everyone else in the room. I groaned in pain as he kept twisting my arm while he held me in place by holding my shoulder.
"Listen, Brat. You can whine all you want, but until you learn that I fucking own you now; you're not going to have a very good time here." I cried out as he shoved me resulting in me falling onto my hands and knees on the floor. "Don't start a fight you know you can't win." His tone still hadn't changed.
I immediately got up and turned to him but I froze when I realised I was staring right into a gun.
"Recognise it? Or should I turn it this way? That better? That's the way you held it right?" I froze feeling a knot in my throat as I looked at the gun while he played with it; he looked at me and gave a chuckle. "Why not hold it again?" He shoved the gun into my hands.
My breath caught in my throat as I looked down at it feeling the metal against my skin. Warm, like last time because someone had held it before me. I heard the shot, I saw his blood, I saw him fall. I didn't even notice Sergio move to my side.
"Don't kid yourself, Alexander. You're not much better than all of us 'uneducated shit'." He muttered into my ear. I opened my mouth but not a sound left my throat.
"I –" My voice cracked before I tossed the gun on the couch.
I backed out of the room before I bolted upstairs. I felt myself breathing hard as I locked myself in the room and ran my hands along my jean trying to rub out the memory of feeling it jerk in my hand when I shot that man. He was right... I was a murderer.
I shut my eyes as I ran my hands through my hair and over my face. I cringed as the shot echoed through my head and I saw his body on the ground, so much blood. I didn't mean it. It was impulsive. He was reaching for his other gun! It was him or me! It was a mistake. I didn't mean to. I never meant to kill him. It did not matter what I intended or did not mean to do, I had done it. Killed him.
I felt a panicked sob escape my throat. My parents would absolutely hate me... I knew I did...
*****