I know I normally trade on wisecracking cynicism, but this bloke’s story moved me:
“Growing up I lived in a tough neighbourhood. Like really fucking tough. I didn’t know anyone who didn’t carry a knife. Or anyone that wasn’t in a gang. People think gangs are a lifestyle choice – they are not. You just get swept up and carried along. Sometimes fantasy and real life blurred at the edges. But this was the cold reality of my existence and there was no escape from it. I looked up at the same sky as everyone else but we were shit poor. I didn’t ask anything of anyone. I learned quickly to accept the ebb and flow of things. Some of the times we had were great others were the lowest points of my young life. I learned to just go with it, whatever happened – to be honest I didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything.
Until that is, the day I had to break it to my mother I had committed murder. She couldn’t accept it, simply refused to believe it. The worst part was when she demanded to know how I had killed the poor bloke. Having to tell my own mother I had shot another young man at point blank range is still to this day indescribable. He died instantly of massive head wounds. Pulling the trigger was simple, but I hadn’t any idea of the consequences. She was distraught. She told me I had thrown my entire life away. I have never seen anyone cry with such gut-wrenching pain. I didn’t want this for her. I didn’t mean to make this happen. I did to do the only thing I could. I ran. The following day i was gone but my mother had to try and pretend she knew nothing of this terrible thing and continue life as normal.
But all too soon the game was up. By the time i was caught i was in a terrible state, I was petrified and every part of my body ached. I waved goodbye to my life, my mother, I didn’t want it all to be over but frankly by this time I wished I’d never even been fucking born.
In court I looked at the judge, a little thin wisp of a man. He was a joke, a fucking buffoon. We danced around the whole stupid legal process. Being in remand was terrifying. The first night in prison there was a huge storm, thunder scares me but the banging of doors and the clatter of hundreds of other men terrified me. All at once my place in the gang – the security of it meant nothing. I was just another dirt poor fucker trapped in a hole. My family was skint, there would be no fancy lawyers to come save me from the inevitability of the situation. But my attitude was still – who gives a fuck?
Clearly there was no way out of this one, but then, on a technicality I got off. Reluctantly they let me go, well got off for now that is – if there is a Hell then there is surely a place set aside for me.
You can think what you like of me. Some people call me scum, others just turned their backs on me. But when it comes down to it I have realised in this life that if you look closely enough, nothing really matters, anyone can see. Nothing really matters to me.”
Thanks to WillZilla for bringing this to my attention. Hilarious!!