Life of a Criminal 
Chapter 1
"God dammit, I did it again, where are the crappy keys!" I mumbled to myself,
"Crap, the po po are coming." I had to think of something fast or I was buzzed. I could hear the cop sirens slowly getting closer to the building. I didn't no what else to do! The money and the jewels slowed me down and who knows where the hell the damn key back inside the building is. Since I was on the rooftop with NO other way to go. I jumped...
POW! I fell in a trashcan and there I was.. lying there. I thought I was dead, I was too young to be a criminal and I was too young to die. Yes, I am a criminal, and you all think criminals are bad. Their story is never told or never believed. You think the cops are the good guys? The ones that put the "bad guys" away. Well, let me tell you something. I'm a 14 year old boy, and I think cops are unfair with some criminals, they never believe the story. Well, here is my story. Here is my life as the criminal, and I am here to tell you what its actually like.
My name is Chalk, I'm from Italy, born and raised, when I was 5 I moved to America in Seattle. My parents were divorced when I was 6 years old and well, I didn't see my mother after that. I came from a crappy area lived in a crappy apartment with my low ass dad. He used to hit me a lot when I was younger. Said it would make me a man. Well, look where I am now. 14 No school. Ran away from home cause I just felt dead there, depressed. Didn't actually help me in any way. I was picked on bullied. Who calls their child Chalk. Ugh, even the name tells you how cheap I am. I feel like dollar store chalk.
My sister, Lady, she died when she was 5, she was really hit badly by my dad once, and she just... She just was there, bringing up now brings me torture, I could have been a better person now. Enough about me, I am sure you don't want to hear depression, you want guns and bad guys and me running for my life and loosing keys. Well, I'll tell you many stories of my so called criminal mind.
Chapter 2
Like I told you before, I ran away from home. Maybe that's why I hear so many cops and sirens and screams. No, that's not why, this city is known for thieves and criminals. Anyways, so I walked home with nothing since I was just in some nasty hell hole. I go by my homeless boxed house that I found in someones garden. I could tell it was for a little girls play house because it was pink
.
"Home sweet box!" I said to myself and took out some stolen change and head to a local Convenient store. On the way, I noticed some other homeless guys I usually stayed with.. and they weren't such a great company either. But it was one step up most of the times.
"GOT MY CASH" Robert yelled, which was one of the homeless people.
"Uh.. about that, I ran into trouble and fell into a trash can from the roof, can I give it to you tomorrow maybe?" I explained with deep fear.
"WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR WEEKS NOW! WHAT KIND OF DUMBASS ARE YOU CAN'T EVEN DO ONE SIMPLE THING, MAN ONE 14 YEAR OLD YOU ARE!" Stanley, another homeless person yelled.
I wanted to punch them all in the face, I wanted to scream, but people were already looking, and even if I did, its not like they would do anything. They only do something if it affects them, selfish people.
Before I could even lay a hand on one of them they jumped me first, bruised, broken and blood coming from my head and nose.
"I bet you took the money yourself, selfish hobo you are." Robert said and took a whip at me.
They finally left, like I said before no one did crap to help me. I just went back to my box and fell asleep. Forget about the food, I was just dying. Slowly dying..
To be continued, Hope you enjoyed. Part two will be out soon.
Chapter 1
"God dammit, I did it again, where are the crappy keys!" I mumbled to myself,
"Crap, the po po are coming." I had to think of something fast or I was buzzed. I could hear the cop sirens slowly getting closer to the building. I didn't no what else to do! The money and the jewels slowed me down and who knows where the hell the damn key back inside the building is. Since I was on the rooftop with NO other way to go. I jumped...
POW! I fell in a trashcan and there I was.. lying there. I thought I was dead, I was too young to be a criminal and I was too young to die. Yes, I am a criminal, and you all think criminals are bad. Their story is never told or never believed. You think the cops are the good guys? The ones that put the "bad guys" away. Well, let me tell you something. I'm a 14 year old boy, and I think cops are unfair with some criminals, they never believe the story. Well, here is my story. Here is my life as the criminal, and I am here to tell you what its actually like.
My name is Chalk, I'm from Italy, born and raised, when I was 5 I moved to America in Seattle. My parents were divorced when I was 6 years old and well, I didn't see my mother after that. I came from a crappy area lived in a crappy apartment with my low ass dad. He used to hit me a lot when I was younger. Said it would make me a man. Well, look where I am now. 14 No school. Ran away from home cause I just felt dead there, depressed. Didn't actually help me in any way. I was picked on bullied. Who calls their child Chalk. Ugh, even the name tells you how cheap I am. I feel like dollar store chalk.
My sister, Lady, she died when she was 5, she was really hit badly by my dad once, and she just... She just was there, bringing up now brings me torture, I could have been a better person now. Enough about me, I am sure you don't want to hear depression, you want guns and bad guys and me running for my life and loosing keys. Well, I'll tell you many stories of my so called criminal mind.
Chapter 2
Like I told you before, I ran away from home. Maybe that's why I hear so many cops and sirens and screams. No, that's not why, this city is known for thieves and criminals. Anyways, so I walked home with nothing since I was just in some nasty hell hole. I go by my homeless boxed house that I found in someones garden. I could tell it was for a little girls play house because it was pink
."Home sweet box!" I said to myself and took out some stolen change and head to a local Convenient store. On the way, I noticed some other homeless guys I usually stayed with.. and they weren't such a great company either. But it was one step up most of the times.
"GOT MY CASH" Robert yelled, which was one of the homeless people.
"Uh.. about that, I ran into trouble and fell into a trash can from the roof, can I give it to you tomorrow maybe?" I explained with deep fear.
"WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR WEEKS NOW! WHAT KIND OF DUMBASS ARE YOU CAN'T EVEN DO ONE SIMPLE THING, MAN ONE 14 YEAR OLD YOU ARE!" Stanley, another homeless person yelled.
I wanted to punch them all in the face, I wanted to scream, but people were already looking, and even if I did, its not like they would do anything. They only do something if it affects them, selfish people.
Before I could even lay a hand on one of them they jumped me first, bruised, broken and blood coming from my head and nose.
"I bet you took the money yourself, selfish hobo you are." Robert said and took a whip at me.
They finally left, like I said before no one did crap to help me. I just went back to my box and fell asleep. Forget about the food, I was just dying. Slowly dying..
To be continued, Hope you enjoyed. Part two will be out soon.