The Crazy Thing We Call Life

The ride there sucked as always. The bastards kept cracking jokes at my expense. They always do that though. I’ve known these guys since I was fifteen. I lost my virginity to Chuck’s daughter. He doesn’t know that though, he would kill me. Not like he hasn’t tried already though. We got there pretty quickly and I looked around the familiar jail cells. I smirked. Booking didn’t take that long because they already had my information. They gave me all my old stuff and sent me to my new cell. I looked around and the cell and I noticed I’m the only one in there, awesome. I put all my stuff on the top bunk. That figures they would put me in a cell by myself. It doesn’t bother me though ‘cause I been alone my whole life. Hell even when I was little; yea I been stunting’ that long.
I remember being a little kid and not understanding why my dad hated me. I did well in school and learned to color in the lines perfectly. I would run over to him so proud of my accomplishment. He would crunch his beer then look at me with this look I didn’t understand then but it’s obvious what it is now. It’s a look of pure hatred. My father loathes me for reasons I never understood. Even though I knew what was going to happen I would still go to him with the hugest smile on my face; only to get smacked to the ground. As sad as it was I didn’t mind it because at least he was paying attention to me right?
At the young age of eight I finally learned why he hated me. Even though it wasn’t my fault; it could happen to any one really. My father blamed me for my mother’s death. My moms was a beautiful woman from the pictures I seen and the whisperings I heard. She had an angelic glow to her flowing orangish hair. We have the same eyes, from what I hear. She sounded like a saint, which makes me wonder what the hell she seen in dad. I mean he is far from even being a good guy so a saint is like on the opposite side of the world from him. Hell but as far as I know he may have changed since she was gone. Victoria Carter, my mother, the angel that I didn’t get to know, died in child birth.
I think my favorite argument between Pops and me was the one where I threw up mom. He told me he wished it was me not her. Quite funny to me it was that he loved her so much that he remarried six months after she died. Obviously he didn’t want to have to deal with a kid by himself. Now my step mother she I can understand why she’s with him. I mean sure she made sure I ain’t and was clean as a kid but once I turned ten she really made it obvious that she wasn’t my mother. She started to get just as bad as dad. I had to fend for myself. The only good thing she did for me was stop me from getting my ass kicked, at least at times she did. At nine my beatings changed. He did not only smack me around. Not only did he stomp me to the ground, now he’s burning me with cigarettes as well. I would yelp and scream but those only made him hit me harder or burn me deeper.
I looked down at my chiseled physique and still seen the scars that were there. I shook my head and went back in thought. Around that time I dabbed into drugs. Weed was my first dirty habit. It relaxed me enough to go home and deal with the problems there. Hell that’s how I first met Jester. We were like ten years old. We talked about mostly drugs then but our friendship eventually grew. That sounds so gay. About a year later I was insuated into his gang and I have been his right man ever since. He’s one of the only people that looked out for me then. Now I am a grown ass man of nineteen. Everything I got a worked for. I went from a scared ass little kid getting my as beat to a druggie to a hustler. Don’t get me wrong I still do my drugs I no longer do just weed. I’ve upgraded. I now do weed and pills. I take downers, vicodin, xanax and whatever else you can think of.
Anyway back to reality. I got as comfortable as I could on the small top bunk and started up at the ceiling. This stallion may be down but I ain’t out. Never am I out. I heard keys rattle and I looked up and seen the guard opening my cell.
“You made bail. Next time you won’t be as lucky punk.” I have him a cocky smirk and walked out of the cell. I got to the booking department and they handed me my stuff back. I quickly got dressed and standing in the lobby was my favorite screw. Her name was Lindsey and she had legs that went on for miles. She heard me clear my throat and she quickly turned around and looked at me with a lust so full of lust. It was going to be a fun day.
She took me to her car and I knew where we were heading and its aight with me though. She pulled up in her driveway and I smiled like crazy. She parked her car and practically ran to her front door. I was hot on that sexy bunny’s tail and she led me upstairs to her room. Not like I needed leading I've been up there more than a time or two. She pulled me into her room and pushed me up against the closed door of her room after that it was on.
Three hours later I walked into my house. Jester seen me and he laughed. Obviously he saw what had happened.
“Ya had a good time I take it?” I smirked.
“Hell yea ya know Lindsey’s a freak.” We both laughed and I went to take a shower. Before I entered the bathroom I looked back at Jester and seen him prop his feet on the glass coffee table. That’s when I noticed it. He was no longer wearing his white air Nikes.