Chapter 1

I started writing my autobiography. Why? Cause who knows. This is the first chapter. And there will be more to follow.

Our Newest Member

There was a sound on the window. Something like a ping. Dominic was driving. He didn’t say a word. There was another ping. Now everyone was interested. Wade was sitting in the front seat of Dom’s mothers Ford Fresco. I was in the back with Jay smith. Jay was a new addition. A gang member that my cousin Ralph brought into the group. This was our first night out with him. There was another ping at the window. And this kid next to me, chiseled and full of rage, could not wait to handle the problem.

To my left was a Honda CRV. A small compact. All we could see inside was a girl, our age, staring at us. She threw an object at the car and it made another ping. Everyone was restless, and completely stoned. Wade leaned back and said “find a weapon!”

I looked over at Jay and he was already reaching back over the seat and into the trunk area of the fresco. Jay fished around for a bit. He then surfaced with a tire iron. We got to a light and pulled into the turning lane just to the right of the CRV. By this time I had ascertained that this was a couple of college kids throwing penny’s at following cars. There was no malice. No intent. They were being the dorkie college kids they were. But they had no idea what was ahead.

We reached that light. Jay, with the tire iron in hand, jumped out of the car. He raced around to my side and up to the CRV.  Without any fear or hesitation Jay bashed in the passenger side window. Glass was everywhere. The CRV drove straight into cross traffic. They didn’t care. That’s how scared they were. They just did not care.  Cars were screeching everywhere, as this white CRV went right into traffic. It somehow made it through, and continued east, this moment forever ingrained in their mind.

The three of us sat in the car. We were terrified. I remember Dominick saying something along the lines of “Jesus Christ, what the fuck did he do?” We were all asking ourselves the same thing. What the fuck did this guy just do? Jason turned to the three of us. The tire iron still in his hand. Blood was trickling down it. Shattering the windshield left him wounded. Jay didn’t care. He was alive. And he came up to the car. With tire iron in hand. Blood pouring down his arm. He got up onto the hood of the car and he screamed “Yeah, motherfucker! You want to fuck with me! This is what you get!”

The three of us said nothing. The light turned green, then red, then green again but we didn’t move. How could we? We were entranced. This guy. This guy. This guy. We watched as the blood trickled down his arm, to his wrist, and off of the dull black tire iron. We watched it, and we all said to ourselves the same thing:

This is the newest member to our crew.