Gray Corporate

Chapter 1: here we go...

If you happened to stumble upon this story, please note that it will remain unedited. As much of a mess it is from a professional standpoint, I cherish and wish to preserve my writing from years ago.

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My half-dead alarm clock rings it's torturous chime, forcing me up and out of bed. My hand reaches towards the clock to shut it up, my eyes glancing at the time.

6:00 AM.

Taking a deep breath, I lift myself up and make my bed. Crumbs and other particles release in the air as ruffle and fix my blanket, God I need to do laundry soon. Too bad the machines been broken since who knows.

I guide myself to the bathroom and lay down my clothes for the day on the counter. A grey wife beater top with jeans that are way too big for me. I can worry about underwear later.

Turning on the shower faucets, I let the lukewarm water hit my face, refreshing me. My 3 in 1 soap lathers up on my body, quickly to be washed away by the water. Not wanting to take too long, I get out and dry myself, tugging on my jeans and tank top along the way to the kitchen. The fridge is barely stocked anyway, why do I bother?

The dry cold air hits my face like a truck, autumn is arriving fast. Just a few days ago, the trees leaves turned into warm shades of orange and golden yellow. My pick up truck waits for me as I reach into my pocket for the keys, getting into the drivers seat and starting it up. The radio plays a bittersweet tune as I drive out to the ranch.

What is the ranch? you may be asking.

Well, it's not really a ranch, I just call it that for aesthetics sake. You see, I'm a drug and weapons dealer in Graysville, an unknown city with only inhabitants who are either insane, dying, or both. I moved here a couple of years ago after I got kicked out my parents house, ever since then I make a living off violence and addiction. Luckily for me, I'm not out of my mind or half dead, making me the most normal person here.

My truck takes a left then swiftly stops on a patch of grass, the engine letting out a roar before I shut it off. Hopping out the vehicle, my precious baby drug plants spread across the field like sprinkles. Cocaine on one side, tobacco and the smaller kinds on the other.

"How's my little money makers doin'?" I talk to the plants while preparing to water and tend to any weeds. My watering can waters the tobacco, the little droplets spilling off the green leaves and soaking into the soil below. My hand reaches to wipe the sweat of my face. "Time for some special pesticides-" I stop midsentence because of a familiar ringtone in my pocket. Grabbing my phone, the caller ID is "Scoob", one of my regulars.

"Whazzup" I say into the phone and put it on speaker, setting it down on a barrel next to me.

"Kris. I'm here to buy some of...the stuff".

"Ah I see, what kind? the usual?".

"Mhm.." Scoob grunts. "6 grams of it. Meet me at dxd wearhouse, edge of town, 12:00".

"Alright" I make mental note and he hangs up, leaving me in the breezy silence of the ranch.

"Alright, time to get to work" My knees get to the ground, a shovel in one hand and a bucket in the other. My silver eyes inspect the plant, making sure its suitable for purchase. I'm going to grind it up anyway, so who cares. Inserting the shovel into the dirt, the plant comes up and I throw it in the pale. Repeat that 3 times and it should come up to 6 grams, if not I'll mix cornstarch into it.