story, (untitled so far) Options

[expoised]

(started this in 7th grade and i just found it yesterday... about 3 years later. heh. just wondering if its worthy to bring back. i actually found it pretty interesting)

-prologue-
They called Raniekan The Ghetto, thought it really wasn’t what people typically thought of when they thought of ghetto. The Ghetto was basically a place where people just stood around, pretending to be cool. It was like the low-class part of the city. There were barbed wire fences surrounding the broken-down, grungy buildings. Graffiti was sprayed all over the decayed walls, signatures of who have come and gone.
Normally, the people who hung around The Ghetto didn’t live there. The people who actually lived there could be found in the streets of 9th to 11th avenue in the neighboring town Milwauken, where all the business was going on. Of course, that part of town was too hectic for the people who lived there so the people who actually lived in Milwauken went to Manhatten. The system was not meant to be understood, it’s just …was. Actually, all the people who even lived in or near Ranieken were somewhat screwed up.
My best friend, Nikki Landall’s, father got killed drunk driving, leaving her with a mom that didn’t work. Eventually, Mrs. Landall did find a job… as a stripper. This was when Nikki was five. Then, the police came and took her away. Now, she lives with adoptive parents in an apartment across from my aunt’s and mine.
My family was just as flipped. I was born out of wedlock to a father who mysteriously disappeared and a mother who was an alcoholic and a crystal meth addict. Mom was in rehab for 5 years. She was let out two years ago and now she’s a waitress and exotic dancer at some club on 20th street. She never broke her bad habits and has a system of chain smoking and chain boyfriends. She was declared unfit to take care of me, thank God, so I’m now living with my aunt.
My aunt’s pretty cool. She’s a lawyer and tries to remember me. But, I guess it’s easy to forget me. She gives me an allowance, food, and shelter, the three things that keep me going. At least she doesn’t put me behind useless things like alcohol and sex. I guess the only thing I’m put after is work.
What I’m like? I hate to confess, but I am one of them who are found in the most disrespectable parts in town. I think you already have an idea where that might be. Nikki and I basically hang out almost everywhere. Well, everywhere except where all the rich folks live. The rich people tramp around everywhere in their expensive ripped up clothes and their million dollar faces. I guess in places like New Jersey, the rich people were real, but in the streets of Raniekan, you really have to get down with it. Money didn’t buy you a freeway out of life here. People like Tori Richards, who walked around with their noses up in the air, only like to hang out in their own neighborhood. Then, when one of us show up in their fancy neighborhoods, which wasn’t that often, they stayed in their houses.
It wasn’t like we had no future and no direction in life. I had a job at an ice cream parlor that opened up a while ago. It was not bad pay. There were a lot of nice folks who left good tip, since the ice cream there’s not half bad. I guess people like me also hung out in what could be called a mall… if a large buildings with graffitied walls and a total of 4 respectable stores could be called a “mall”. That’s why the rich people always went down to Manhattan or even to the “nice malls” of New Jersey to shop.
Early on, I swore to myself that I would never end up like my mother. But, who was my father? He was never there, as far as I knew. Yet, I still took his last name. I guess I’ve been “untold of” for the past 15 years of my life… counting the year I was just born. I don’t know how that happened, but oh well. Tough. I’ve seen his picture, though. He actually seemed like someone of class. I couldn’t picture how he ever met my mom. She was like…a street thug compared to a member of the parliament in England, or wherever. But, I guess he’ll always be someone in the back of my head, like a mystery. Not to be melodramatic or anything.

[expoised]

CHAPTER 1: The Dream
Nikki and I met up with some people on I-street. It seems like the people or “map-makers” ran out of ideas for street names and started using the alphabet and numbers for names. Smart, right? We heard real loud police sirens heading to the rich neighborhoods.

“oh, maybe Tory broke into her father’s safe again,” Nikki rolled her eyes. Tori was always bragging to everyone how her father had $3,000 stashed away for emergencies in his safe. She said she breaks into it every week and takes $50, then she’d elaborate on how he would never catch her.

“Or maybe she fell on a step and broke her precious pedicured toenail,” I said, as an ambulance wailed by. Tiana laughed and tossed me a can of spray paint. We were “vandalizing” a brick wall that used to be a senior citizen center. Somewhere along the line, it got knocked down, and now, all that was left of it were two walls and some broken down crap. Our friend, Rick – “teddie” as we called him – hauled a big black radio our way.

“yo, not too loud,” Nikki called to him. Tiana and I quickly hid our cans of spray paint as a large man, whom we recognized as the principal in school, walked by. He eyed us suspiciously, then walked on. The brick wall was private property, even though it wasn’t like it was of any use.

“God, what a jackass.” Rick hissed under his breath. I shook the can and tested it.
“why would he be here? I thought he was one of them rich folks,” Tiana asked. Mr. Anderson was a tall, big man with a moustache across his upper lip like a caterpillar. He always wore suits with dark colored ties, and on his wrist was always a golden Quartz watch.

“he is,” I nodded, writing “down with society” on the wall, for lack of anything better to write. I handed the can to Rick and he just bounced it in his hands. Nikki was watching out for cars and police as Tiana wrote her message.

It was about an hour later when we finished our artwork on the wall. We put the spraypaint in a box and tossed it into a nearby junkyard about a quarter of a mile away from the former senior citizen house. It was about 6:00 and I was going to be late for my shift at work, so I left my friends and jogged to Shelby’s Ice Creamery. ................................



yes i know i'm not the most talented writer but i thought it was interesting. i have the plot written down and i dunno... whatever. just thoughts and comments, kids.

[expoised]

btw... that was only part of chapter one.

[dispn0ygonekrazy]

wow xpoised nice story if i graded i say A good job keep it up i like it

[rainnydaiis]

hmmm i actually took the time to read it good job =P

do u have chapter 2?

[expoised]

yeah, but i think its stupid. i have to revise it.