Gun control

The story that everyone hears about violence is always some punk ass kid with a gun or knife thinking he's the shit. Yet most are just talk, they've never committed a crime, hell they've never dreamt of committing a crime. And still they feel as though, to be cool, you have to be tough, or at least look and sound tough. Which, sadly enough, is mostly true. Maybe one day in some far off utopia things won't be that way. Until then, we're stuck with this hell...

((NOVEMBER 17th, 2004))
Rian and Tony just took off from the liquor store, where yet again, a robbery has taken place. Three kids who think that they're gangsters hold up the shop trying to get booze. The people in the shop didn't know, but they were never in any danger. They kids robbing the place hadn't even loaded the guns they had. Ya know that's what pisses me off the most. Oh, I'm Shayn, by the way. My brother was killed in a shooting. Back when there was a real threat from gang violence. Shit, a lot of the hold ups nowadays aren't even gangs. Well not in a town like Vass, anyway. These are just by poor farm boys with nothing better to do. Tony and Rian are my two closest friends, well only friends since Brock's murder. I shut myself off from the world. I won't talk to anyone besides them, my parents, and other important people, such as doctors, policemen, yada yada. So, it surprises everyone when I go up to the two people who had recently gotten out of the county jail for robbing a gas station of beer.

"Yo, Mike, check this chick out?" The criminal says to the other.

"Dude, ain't she that Shayn chick? The one who doesn't talk to anyone?" 'Mike' says to his friend. Wow, I'm surprised they remember me, after all, they were the ones who completely ignored me in high school.

"Yeah, I am that Shayn chick, Mike." I spat at him causing him to jump back in surprise.

"Shit, sorry to offend, Shayn." Damn him and his shitty ass apologies. They've always been the same, "But uh, what are you doing talking to us? You never talk to people," He adds on. Wow, he just doesn't know when to stop does he?

"For your information, Michael, I'm here to talk to you about you and your friend's perdicament. Ya know with the robbing and everything." I say to him spatting out his name and the word friends.

"Well, shit, what do you wanna talk about that for? It's over and done with. It'll probably happen again." His friend says.

"Because, my brother was killed in a fucking robbery you dumbshit! Back when robberies were actually a threat, when people actually used guns to kill people when they were robbing places, not just have them for show." I say nearing tears about the thought of my brother. Not from sadness though, no no I've long passed sadness. These tears were from pure anger.

"Shayn, you ain't broke a law in your life, yet everytime you yap about the guns and knife you act like you know everything about them, why is that?" Mike asks curiously.

"Because, Michael, everyday since Brock's murder, I've studied guns, knives, I've studied everything about them. How to control them, how to do anything with them. I've practiced things with knives that you haven't dreamt of. I've been promising myself that one day I'll prove to the world that guns and knives aren't a threat. Only the sick, sadistic people who have them are." I say walking away leaving them stunned, and slightly scared.