The Damnation of Johnny Boy

5

John was walking home alone, carrying his black Jansport backpack. He had been using the same backpack for almost 3 long years now. It had stood the test of time, for a school backpack at least. Unlike him, he thinks. He isn't even sure if he'll be able to stand up to what's happening to him. The weather was sunny. He walked along the pavement, with the orange afternoon sunlight falling on his face from the left. He felt peace in the sun, he had been in the cold for too long. He needed the sun. He remembered the time he went to the beach for the last time as a kid with his dad and mom, Mary was still a baby, the waves were so magnificent with the sun shining down from the

HONK HONK

John stopped in his tracks immediately. He had been in his head for too long, he hadn't even noticed the car coming from the road on the left.

"Watch where yer going, kid!", the man in the Ford Truck shouted and zoomed past.

He noticed he had reached the road. That road. It hurt everytime he thought about it. He didn't usually walk through this way for 'this' reason alone. But he wanted to walk today, so he had taken the long road.

That road marked the end of the neighbourhood. Not many cars passed through this road. All of the houses both sides of the road were all old, abandoned and in run-down, dilapitated conditions. You know, every town has 'that' neighbourhood. Most of the houses were spots for crackheads, one could easily see drug exchanges taking place if they walked by this road at the correct time, and this was the single reason for most of the shootouts happening at this place. After all, the drug dealers had guns too.

John's dad was a cop. He had been killed in this exact road, a bit further in but that same road nonetheless. There had been a shootout, his dad was shot. He had shot one of them dealers too. One- One. The bullet had hit an artery. He didn't reach the hospital.John didn't want to think about it. He passed that road in a hurry, not even giving it a second look. It had a dark place in his mind. He remembered the first thing he had done when he heard his dad had been shot, he took the gun his dad had kept in the house, and hid it in his room. He was afraid some drug lords, like the ones he'd seen in movies might come to their house for revenge. He had to do something. And so the first thing he did, was hid his father's gun. There was no use, his father died. And no big 'mexican drug lord' came for revenge.                                                                                         

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John reached home. Mom and Mary weren't back, he had the key to the house. He went upto his room, the mess made last night was still in its place. He hardly wanted to clean up this mess, after the mess that happened at school today. He put down his bag, changed to his shorts and sat on the floor, with his back on the bed and looked out the window. He decided he could use some music. He had an old vintage tape player, the one which his dad originally had. It still worked! He played whatever tape was already in. Frank Sinatra started playing. He didn't exactly have that in mind when expecting, but okay, whatever was playing. Frank Sinatra's baritone voice started singing...

And now the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

My friends, I'll say it clear

I'll state my case of which I'm certain

I've lived a life that's full...

John was asleep by now. He was tired.

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