The Idiot That Is Saint Jimmy
SnapCrackCrush
Idiot
Prologue - CarCrashCrush
I was driving in my mustang, my foot almost flat on the pedal, taking as much speed as my car -and I- could take. He was after me. I knew it, they all were. All for the bounty on my head. I had to get out of Jersey. And fast. I had to get away from them, and leave my life behind. He was not going to give up on me easily just because the roads here are dangerous. The memories of just a few minutes ago were ringing in my ears, his breath on my face, his gun to my head... Shit another bend. My name, dare I say it, is Jimmy. But that's Saint Jimmy to you.
"ohshitohshitohshitohshit..." I murmured from behind the lip that I was biting as I wheeled round the corner, narrowly avoiding some random object in the road. I smelt the rubber burn off my tyres as I switched gear and accelerated to a speed even faster than what I was going at at first to get out of this fucked up hell hole. But I didn't know where I was going. Heck I wasn't born in this part of town! I heard another car behind me... his car.. sound it's horn at me again as the head of the famously thug group: The blood gang -Queso, as everyone with any sense called him- stuck his head out of the car, his long black hair whipping around his face.
"PULL OVER AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN YOU MOTHERFUCKING PUNK! OR ARE YOU TOO MUCH OF A PUSSY TO EVEN DO THAT?!" He bellowed at me before ducking back inside his own pile of junk. He was catching up, the front of his car nearly touching the bumper of mine. He was pissed. Really pissed. Oh shit, another bend was coming up. It was sharp, and I was getting closer to it fast.
I reached for the gear stick, but then reluctantly snatched my gloved hand back. I couldn't. I couldn't slow down. He was close enough already. It was now or never, I was going to get away from him, or die trying. I couldn't slow down now. Not now. I look in the mirror and saw him scrabbling for something at was in the next seat. A gun, most likely. I saw him grin and withdraw it. I scratched and rubbed at my face with my right hand, eyeliner smudging over my cheek, breathed in...
And slammed my foot flat down.
"FUCK!" I screamed turning the steering wheel as frantically as I could. I heard bullets ring through the back window of my vehicle. I pulled up on the hand brake with such force something twinged in my right arm, and the steering wheel was now out of control with out one hand to keep it in order. I had accelerated too late, and braked too much. This was it. I felt my weight being tossed about as the car span in what seemed like light speed. Now I wish I put my damn seatbelt on. The side of the car hit something and I felt my left elbow being shattered.
“FUCK IIIIIIIT!” I yelled, as the car tipped over. I felt wieghtlessnes for a split second, all of the chaos had vanished, everything went in slow motion… then my head and neck came crashing down into the roof of the car…
Snap.
Crack.
Crush
Prologue - CarCrashCrush
I was driving in my mustang, my foot almost flat on the pedal, taking as much speed as my car -and I- could take. He was after me. I knew it, they all were. All for the bounty on my head. I had to get out of Jersey. And fast. I had to get away from them, and leave my life behind. He was not going to give up on me easily just because the roads here are dangerous. The memories of just a few minutes ago were ringing in my ears, his breath on my face, his gun to my head... Shit another bend. My name, dare I say it, is Jimmy. But that's Saint Jimmy to you.
"ohshitohshitohshitohshit..." I murmured from behind the lip that I was biting as I wheeled round the corner, narrowly avoiding some random object in the road. I smelt the rubber burn off my tyres as I switched gear and accelerated to a speed even faster than what I was going at at first to get out of this fucked up hell hole. But I didn't know where I was going. Heck I wasn't born in this part of town! I heard another car behind me... his car.. sound it's horn at me again as the head of the famously thug group: The blood gang -Queso, as everyone with any sense called him- stuck his head out of the car, his long black hair whipping around his face.
"PULL OVER AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN YOU MOTHERFUCKING PUNK! OR ARE YOU TOO MUCH OF A PUSSY TO EVEN DO THAT?!" He bellowed at me before ducking back inside his own pile of junk. He was catching up, the front of his car nearly touching the bumper of mine. He was pissed. Really pissed. Oh shit, another bend was coming up. It was sharp, and I was getting closer to it fast.
I reached for the gear stick, but then reluctantly snatched my gloved hand back. I couldn't. I couldn't slow down. He was close enough already. It was now or never, I was going to get away from him, or die trying. I couldn't slow down now. Not now. I look in the mirror and saw him scrabbling for something at was in the next seat. A gun, most likely. I saw him grin and withdraw it. I scratched and rubbed at my face with my right hand, eyeliner smudging over my cheek, breathed in...
And slammed my foot flat down.
"FUCK!" I screamed turning the steering wheel as frantically as I could. I heard bullets ring through the back window of my vehicle. I pulled up on the hand brake with such force something twinged in my right arm, and the steering wheel was now out of control with out one hand to keep it in order. I had accelerated too late, and braked too much. This was it. I felt my weight being tossed about as the car span in what seemed like light speed. Now I wish I put my damn seatbelt on. The side of the car hit something and I felt my left elbow being shattered.
“FUCK IIIIIIIT!” I yelled, as the car tipped over. I felt wieghtlessnes for a split second, all of the chaos had vanished, everything went in slow motion… then my head and neck came crashing down into the roof of the car…
Snap.
Crack.
Crush