My Final Mistake

Chapter 1

I always find myself here, sitting in this empty room , in this abandoned building, with this cigarette to get me through the hours.

It feels like  the only time I actually am happy is when I'm high or passed out ,because then my mind can roam free, then I am free from the struggles and pains of life, then I can float off to my paradise.

My name is Sean Gray and I have lived a life full of regrets, a life full of things that happened that I couldn't stop from happening and things that I should have stopped from happening.

The worst  memory I ever had from my childhood, was from when I was nine and my dad took me out for ice cream, this was new because my mum and dad used to fight a lot and never had time for me.

But It turns out that the only reason he took me out was to tell me that my mum was dead, he said that she slept and just didn't wake up, but I could tell from the blood stains on his shirt and the sounds of them arguing and fighting last night, that he killed her.

I fought the urge to cry for a few seconds, but then I burst into loud tears and started screaming at him and accusing him for killing her, he didn't even look at me he just kept a straight face and kept trying to cut through his already finished steak.

When people started staring he just slapped me, I fell on the floor and crawled up into a ball waiting for him to kill me too, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably

I waited for about two minutes and he didn't do anything people started gathering round me to check if I was ok, then my dad picked me up by the arm and marched me out of the ice cream shop.

I struggled with him until he lost grip of me, then I ran unto the street without even thinking. He called my name again and again , but the further I got the sound of my name being shouted again and again began to fade.

I didn't know where I was running to, I didn't care, maybe to the police, or the forest. or my neighbors place, it all didn't matter at the time, all I wanted to do was be away from him.

My mum was the closest thing I had to love,she cared for me, he didn't, all he ever did was hit her and insult me.

I couldn't stay with him anymore. He took the one thing that made me happy away from me.

I remember running across the street with these thoughts rushing through my mind.

He hesitated before he came chasing after me, but while chasing me he twisted his ankle and fell right in front of a speeding truck, I had reached the other side of the road when I noticed that my dad stopped calling my name .

I stopped and turned round just in time to watch the truck run over him, I remember the feeling of all the veins in my body as they froze, the shiver that went through my spine, my hands placed on my mouth to stop me from screaming, the taste of my own blood that was gushing out of my thumb when my dad tried to pull me back, although my entire body was shaking, the most significant was my fingers which seemed to be vibrating in supersonic speed. I remember letting out an enormous scream that all the people who tried to ignore what just happened couldn't anymore.

I didn't know why I was screaming, was it sorrow for the man that I was just running away from or because of the fact that I might now have to live the rest of my life alone.

I ran out to my dad's body, fell on my knees and began to scream for him to wake up, but then when people began to gather round I got up and ran away.

I didn't want anyone to start asking questions or anything, even though I grew up as a middle class boy, living in a nice estate nowhere near the dangers of the streets, I still had enough street smarts to know that the last thing I needed was for them to start asking questions.

But sometimes I sit down and wonder what life would have been if I didn't run, if I didn't run from dad, or from the scene of my fathers death, well it's too late to think about that know.

From then on I lived my life on the streets going from gang to gang escaping moments of death, stealing, running from the police, got arrested a couple of times, met some people who got me into drugs from the age of twelve, joined a church, became saved, ran away from it, met a lot of girls impregnated a lot of them. My life was pretty much an example of what parents would warn their kids never to become.

But the story of my life is too long to summarize, but today I actually feel lucky.

I dropped out of elementary when I became an orphan I ran away from school and never went back, I guess schools not meant for people like me.

But three weeks ago there was a raffle ticket competition and the winner gets a one hundred percent scholarship into The state university and luckily I won.

I finally got an opportunity to make something out of my life, but going to college meant  I had to make a decision, one that could bring an end to my life , I am a member of one of the most dangerous street gangs in California, the white bullet saints and all gangs have the same rules the only way out Is death.

I've faked my death a couple of times to escape some gangs, but that won't work with the white bullet saints most people who try to escape are found and killed and I can't run to another gang for protection cause I've made enemies with most gangs in town.
But I have to try to escape it's my only chance to make something out of my worthless life.

All I need is a change of identity luckily none of the gangs I've been in know my real name, they all know me as twisted, because that's how my life has been twisted, and also because the first time I shot at someone during a gang battle the way the bullet flew was as if it twisted.

I've made a lot of money from stealing, selling drugs and a couple of gang assassinations,so I shall try and make my great escape at midnight, that is the only time that the rest of my gang members aren't patrolling the streets

12:00 a.m

I got in my car (that I stole from a widow who lives in this neighborhood)and drove as fast as I could towards the airport but then I made a turn into the forest near the airports and crashed the car into a tree, I grabbed my knife and cut my hand to spill some blood on the driver seat I filled the seat pocket with broken and open bottles of alcohol and cigarets and poured some alcohol on the seats and the floor and then I set the car on fire.

This was just one of my typical forms of escape, the last time I used this style of faking my death I stole a body from the morgue and burnt it beyond recognition and placed it in the car, but after the blood test came out and they discovered the body wasn't mine, they hunted me down, but by the time they found me I was already in another gang and they protected me.

But no gang can protect me from the white bullet saints so this time I'm going to be much more careful about how I disappear.