What exactly is a gang? If you asked anyone off the street they would mention drugs, guns, alcohol, money, law breaking, fights, delinquents, and a possible slut every now and then. All of those things are of course right but it goes even deeper than that.
There's the brotherhood. The pride. You know that every other guy has your back no matter what. Heck some gangs have all been friends since they were in diapers. If you asked someone off the street they wouldn't tell you how complex a gang is made up. There's all the jobs for example: the cleaner, spy, snipe, gang leader,dealer, fighter, trainer, and more.
When you turn thirty the gang life is over for you. Some people get the chance to drop out peacefully. Some people have people looking for them hell bent on revenge. Others join the gang's mafia. The mafia is made up of past members and are usually family members of the gang members. If you chose not to join the mafia you're still treated like family.
I guess you could say I know a lot about gangs. All of my brothers are in one and one of them is even the leader. My dad started the gang when he was younger and to help out after he turned thirty, he started a gun factory and a mafia. The mafia is the strongest and most ruthless mafia known to most people. Ever since my mom was murdered by another mafia when I was about five my dad became even more ruthless.
Another cool thing about my family's gang is that their strongest fighter is none other than a girl. Me. Ever since I was about eight my brothers introduced me to the most amazing world of all. The fighting world.
I was eight when I picked up my first knife. It was just lying around in the living room and I thought it was the coolest looking thing ever. The blade was so shiny I could see the ceiling reflected in it. It was the handle I was most interested in. The whole hand was red and it had silver writing.
Unum iecit. Unum occidere. Unum fraternitatis.
That night was also the night I found out about the gang. Waking up to go to the bathroom and seeing your brother bleeding all over the place isn’t exactly something anyone could easily make an excuse for.
That night they sat me down and told me about their brotherhood. Since it was just them and our two cousins they called themselves a brotherhood instead of a gang. As they told me about the mafia they told me about how our dad was the leader and his one family member, a brother, was the second in command. They had no plans to invite no one else to join and that’s how they would keep it.
My cousin’s funeral last week wasn’t an accidental drunk driving accident. Come to find out he was purposely hit. It was a gang’s revenge for the last fight. Since there were no other alive family members I did the one thing any eight year old girl, that was raised by her tough brothers, would do. I told them I wanted to become the next fighter.
They all immediately objected. I insisted that since my youngest brother, who is three years older than me, will be the cleaner soon that I should be able to become the fighter. I promised to wear a wig at school when I started and to act like someone the exact opposite of myself. They reluctantly agreed and promised to ask my dad in the morning.
I was woken the next morning by my oldest two brothers banging on the door, waking me up. It was six in the morning and I knew they had asked my dad by now. Since he was an arms dealer he worked all day everyday. Since he was a mafia leader he dealt with other mafia leaders most of the time too.
“Dad said yes. Be downstairs in ten minutes for your first training session,” Shaun yelled through the door. I heard two pairs of footsteps go downstairs and immediately jumped out of bed. As soon as I got downstairs I was immediately put to practice.
Since I had just woken up I was slow and sluggish. That only caused me to get more and more bruises throughout the day. By the time practice was over I could barely tell my skin tone. Instead, my skin was purple and in some places, blue and black.
I eventually got better and better. Sometimes I was even able to pin down one of my brothers. My knife throwing was excellent and I always hit the target. Guns took me a while to get used to but, I was even better with guns than with knives. By the time I was fourteen I could even curve my throws and shots.
When I was sixteen I first started joining my brothers and cousins on missions. Anyone that got in my way was brought down. The first time I killed someone I refused to eat or come out of my room for a few days. It wasn’t until a few days later, when my brother came home half dead, that I learned to turn off my emotions.
Since I was the girl no one noticed at school I quickly adapted to my brown curly wig and thick nerdy glasses. I had good eyesight so the glasses were fake. The one thing I couldn’t stand was hiding my beautiful dark red hair.
I quickly became all the teacher’s pets and the other kids quickly learned how to hate me and make fun of me in any way possible. Walking through the halls I found myself tripped and called names constantly. Unfortunately for them I didn’t care. After school, after I took off the wig, people feared me. I was the person mostly known to be able to take out people without second thoughts.
Even though I was feared my second bed, in a small shack in the woods, was filled almost every night. Most guys wanted to come back for more but I always denied them. There were enough sluts for them to choose from at the gang tavern.
It’s been two years since I started being a gang member and it’s my senior year. No one has discovered my secret and after this year I would be able to stop with the wig and glasses. Little did I know how much this year would change my life. Little did I know I was about to fall in love with a gang leader. Little did I know my secret was on the verge of being discovered.