A story that end with I wish I had listed to my parents
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To tell you my story is to tell you about my childhood. This dates back to 1997., when I was still a teenager at the time. One of my friends decided to introduce me to a bunch of friends he had. Initially, I disapproved their behaviour as they were always seen hanging around in cybercafés, having their hair dyed, excessive cussing and having no sense of responsibilities at all but they were nice to me in their own ways. They were always inviting me to hang out with them and they were entertaining with their antics and jokes. Eventually, I yielded and accepted their friendships and signed up to their little gang. We shared some exciting moments together. We bashed up youngsters and snatched their pocket money, hung around in cybercafés playing exciting war games and occasionally, we threw Molotov cocktails at randomly selected houses.
Then the day came when I turned eighteen. I was kicked out of home by my parents because I had brought them disgrace and gave them a bad reputation. The police had visited my parents again because they found some pornographic content stored in my cellular telephone. I resorted to spending the rest of my life committing burglaries, pick-pocketing wallets, and robberies in dark alleyways. What else could I do? I had no qualifications; not even a high school certificate. Therefore, I was jobless.
Now, we forward to year 2009, a decade after my eighteenth birthday. One of my ‘brothers’ came to my rented apartment and offered me a job. Of course I accepted at once. I was 3 months in rental arrears and my financial situation was humiliatingly bleak.
We were to carry out a bank robbery. One of us had smuggled in some guns from the USSR including the now infamous AK47. Hell, he even brought some satchel charges for the vault. We were going to strike it rich!
I remember the robbery as if it happened yesterday. We rushed into the bank with our assault rifles, firing at the armed security guards. Like crumbling statues, they fell while Spencer and Longshanks went upstairs to crack the vault. I was on the ground floor pointing my AK101 at the bankers, scrutinizing their every move like a hawk. Spencer and Longshanks dashed down exactly seven minutes later, carrying a safety deposit box. Now, we had to escape the area without attracting any police attention. It was a smooth operation thus far.
Unexpectedly, the alarm was activated and we made a run for it. Fifteen minutes later, we were in the middle of a hot pursuit which involved five police cruisers, a helicopter and our stolen getaway car. I saw a roadblock being set up in front of me. They failed to barricade a part of the road. “Too easy,” I grinned triumphantly….. until I saw the spike strip.
I stamped my foot on the brakes, but it was too late. We were losing speed and control. Our vehicle smashed against a sturdy tree. It was a miracle that we did not suffer even a scratch as our car was dented pretty badly; however the fight was not over yet. I hobbled out of the car and opened fire at the police. Nonetheless, we were all fighting a losing battle. The cops were closing in on us and Longshanks was shot in the leg. Then it happened…..
One of the police officers fired a Jacket Hollow Point round into my heart with his Colt M4A1 carbine. I was lying on the road, gazing at the cloudless serene sky. In my last few moments of breaths, my mind echoed the thought ‘If only I had listened to my parents’ advice, I could have avoided this.’
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