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« on: April 14, 2006, 08:53:57 PM »
Chapter 2
I never knew my brother really well…
In childhood, he was always hanging out with his friend, doing things with his friends, and hanging out with his girlfriend. Whenever he was in the house, he either locked himself in his room or he watched TV. He was usually too busy for me. But when he did have time for me, we really had a blast. Sadly, they weren’t often. As the years past, those precious, precious moments grew shorter in length, and soon, our connection was almost non-existent. We still loved each other. We still cared. He just…I don’t know, never got the chance to do anything with me or to say even a simple “I love you” every once in a while. I understand. He’s busy, and, soon, I’m busy, with my friends, my girlfriend, my own social life. Still, I miss the days when we would just walk in the park, talking about Mega Man and Sonic, and trading secrets and tips on Civilization. But, alas, the moments, they just, I don’t know, disappeared?…
I woke up as if I had awakened from a deep slumber. Blood was streaming down my chest, but I took off my shirt.
Thank goodness. The armor was still there. And, happily, the blood was not actually blood, but ketchup that had been in the microwave for too long… Thank goodness karma!
That fortune teller lady was right. There would be something bad going on, it was going to happen. I looked over to the living room, mum and pop’s bodies on the floor. Then, screeching of tires were coming from outside. I looked through the window in the hall, which, interestingly, had a bullet hole through it, and only god knows why. I saw Mario take off on my bike…MY BIKE…and the men in black followed after him in a 1998 BMW. Hey, I know. I’m more then the second fiddle. I tried to see what was going on, but Mario sped off. Wow. Fatty can move. The BMW screeched after him with smoke and sparks coming from behind it.
“See you soon, Mario.” I said to thin air. Strange. I have never done that before. I packed up my things and headed out. I didn’t shed a tear for mom or dad. They never really loved me anyway. They cared for Mario instead. “Oh, he’s the greatest.” “Oh, he’s the favorite.” Blah blah blah. I never really cared for them anyway. I hopped out the door and walked to the place where I would know I would feel welcome. The Police Academy.
Chapter 3
This fat kid is fast.
I looked at my driver. He strained to go faster, with his foot pressing down on the pedal as far as he can. Funny. He’s almost, standing. Loe looked at me and asked,
“Look, BB, we don’t need to catch this kid. What’s he gonna do? Gather a gang and beat up the heck outta us?” I nodded. The fat kid pedaled on. He then behind and screamed,
“What? Give up already?’ Angrily, I aimed my .50 and shot at the back of his bike. Got him. He slipped and fell over. I then screamed at him,
“Wanna mess with the mafia again?” We then sped off.