My Story---- Vato's in Hell
This just the begining of the story. Let me know what you think.
Chapter 1: Welcome to Hell Loco
Juan’s chest was burning, his breathing was quick and rapid, and all he could hear was the pounding of his heart as he raced down the alley. Juan was 18 years old, a street thug and member of the 7th street Loco’s. He had never intended to become a gang member but in the neighborhood he grew up in, it was a way of life. The life style was passed on from one generation to the next. In Juan’s world you had to join a gang if you wanted to live, it had always been that way. It began when the city began to grow; migrant workers banded together and formed local gangs; they divided the city. As time passed many other barrio’s formed each with its own gang. To the gang members their barrio was their life it was all they had, they had nothing else. Working the farms and factories in and around the city barely produced enough money to buy food and pay the rent. Very few owned their homes and even if they could afford them, they were barely large enough to provide adequate shelter for any size family. The barrio was something special but now it was falling apart, something had happened, something terrible.
Juan always thought he was tough, the 7th street Loco’s made him that way. But now he felt weak. Weakness was frowned upon; weak members were always quickly dealt with. Juan was not weak, he feared nothing; he would give his life for the gang and his barrio. But this was something different and now for the first time he was scared. Juan’s s legs were burning as he ran down the alley wishing this nightmare would end. Juan stole a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure his cousin Javier was still behind him. Javier was only a year younger than Juan and just as tough. They were like brothers, they did everything together they even joined the Loco’s together. Neither would have made it if they had joined alone. The beating they endured was extremely vicious. It took Juan and Javier three weeks to recover and function without help. Juan’s aunt, Josie, had cried every time she saw them after the initiation. She knew what had happened and she was powerless to stop it. She couldn’t stop it, being a member was part of their lives.
They ran on, the distinct sounds of shuffling feet, angry screams and growling closely behind them. Come on! There coming! There right behind us! shouted Juan. Wait up Joker! Wait for me!! screamed Javier as he stumbled trying to keep up. Come on Sleepy, there going to catch us said Juan as his spotted his car parked at the end of the ally in the street. Behind them a group of bodies turned into the alley, a huge roar filled the air as their pursuers regained sight of their prey. Juan’s legs were burning, his throat was dry and his lungs felt like they were going to burst from the strain. Juan clinched his fists and forced his legs to push harder. He couldn’t quite; if he did he knew he was dead. Come on Sleepy, there’s my car, Juan managed in-between gasps. A few seconds later they reached the car; Juan frantically dug in his pocket for the keys to the 1967 Chevy Impala.
The Impala was his most prized position, it had been his fathers. As a child he would beg his father to take him for rides in it. Juan loved the car so much it made him feel like he was on top of the world. Everything was perfect when he was in it, especially when it was just him and his father. Now it was all he had of his father. His father was killed during a riot at the State’s Maximum Security Prison during a gang war. His father was not a bad man but the gang and the neighborhood dictated what you did. The city was divided into north and south. All gangs south of 20TH Street were loyal to the SM (Silent Mafia) while the Northern gangs followed the FH (Familia de Hermanos). Both gangs formed in the state prison system during the 60’s over disagreements on how prison activities should be run. As a result war broke out between the two factions and hundreds of deaths followed over the decades. Ten years ago Juan’s dad, Beto, was approached by the SM to deliver a package across town to a business associate that laundered money for the gang. The package contained two kilo’s of uncut China white heroine. The delivery however, was a set up and Juan’s dad was arrested for possession with intent to distribute. Beto’s dad had no choice, the SM did not take no for answer. If Beto would have said no, the SM would have had his family killed first and then him. Beto did what he had to, it kept his family alive and he got thirty five years for it. Three years into his prison sentence he was killed during a prison disturbance involving the FH.
Hurry up, Ese shrieked Javier as he looked back into the ally to see their pursuers quickly approaching. I’m trying puto! Juan replied as he managed to unlock the door. Juan quickly entered the vehicle and unlocked the passenger side of the car to let his cousin in. By the time Javier closed the door Juan had brought the Impala’s engine to life with a deafening roar and they were both thrown back as the Impala surged forward, both rear tires squealing and smoking just as their pursuers reached them.
What the Fuck is going on shouted Juan. I don’t know man! This is some crazy shit. I swear to God if this is just a dream I’ll never smoke weed again said Javier as he wiped the sweat from his eyes. Javier’s legs were shaking from the running and he was struggling to catch his breath yet he hardly noticed. Javier stared at the floorboard, the images of what he had just seen, flashing before his eyes. This ain’t no dream said Juan as he turned the vehicle onto main street. I know what I saw! I know man; I saw it to, replied Javier, that was my dad, he was fucked up! We’ve got to get some help. Oh man what are we going to do? Shut up and let me think, shouted Juan. I don’t know what to do. We need to find some place to hide and find out what’s going on. What do you mean a place to hide, asked Javier with a look of confusion, there everywhere, you saw them, the whole barrio is full of them. Juan knew Javier was right, there was no place to hide but they had to go somewhere. Fuck it, said Juan as he clenched the steering wheel harder and pushed the accelerator to the floor. We got to get to the hang out, the other vato’s should still be their. Together we can figure something out. Yeah, replied Javier with a sense of hope. That’s a good idea, the homies should still be their, they were throwing a party for Sapo. Right, together we will be stronger and we can protect ourselves. Besides I ain’t taking the chance of running into any more of those diablo’s without a quete.
Chapter 1: Welcome to Hell Loco
Juan’s chest was burning, his breathing was quick and rapid, and all he could hear was the pounding of his heart as he raced down the alley. Juan was 18 years old, a street thug and member of the 7th street Loco’s. He had never intended to become a gang member but in the neighborhood he grew up in, it was a way of life. The life style was passed on from one generation to the next. In Juan’s world you had to join a gang if you wanted to live, it had always been that way. It began when the city began to grow; migrant workers banded together and formed local gangs; they divided the city. As time passed many other barrio’s formed each with its own gang. To the gang members their barrio was their life it was all they had, they had nothing else. Working the farms and factories in and around the city barely produced enough money to buy food and pay the rent. Very few owned their homes and even if they could afford them, they were barely large enough to provide adequate shelter for any size family. The barrio was something special but now it was falling apart, something had happened, something terrible.
Juan always thought he was tough, the 7th street Loco’s made him that way. But now he felt weak. Weakness was frowned upon; weak members were always quickly dealt with. Juan was not weak, he feared nothing; he would give his life for the gang and his barrio. But this was something different and now for the first time he was scared. Juan’s s legs were burning as he ran down the alley wishing this nightmare would end. Juan stole a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure his cousin Javier was still behind him. Javier was only a year younger than Juan and just as tough. They were like brothers, they did everything together they even joined the Loco’s together. Neither would have made it if they had joined alone. The beating they endured was extremely vicious. It took Juan and Javier three weeks to recover and function without help. Juan’s aunt, Josie, had cried every time she saw them after the initiation. She knew what had happened and she was powerless to stop it. She couldn’t stop it, being a member was part of their lives.
They ran on, the distinct sounds of shuffling feet, angry screams and growling closely behind them. Come on! There coming! There right behind us! shouted Juan. Wait up Joker! Wait for me!! screamed Javier as he stumbled trying to keep up. Come on Sleepy, there going to catch us said Juan as his spotted his car parked at the end of the ally in the street. Behind them a group of bodies turned into the alley, a huge roar filled the air as their pursuers regained sight of their prey. Juan’s legs were burning, his throat was dry and his lungs felt like they were going to burst from the strain. Juan clinched his fists and forced his legs to push harder. He couldn’t quite; if he did he knew he was dead. Come on Sleepy, there’s my car, Juan managed in-between gasps. A few seconds later they reached the car; Juan frantically dug in his pocket for the keys to the 1967 Chevy Impala.
The Impala was his most prized position, it had been his fathers. As a child he would beg his father to take him for rides in it. Juan loved the car so much it made him feel like he was on top of the world. Everything was perfect when he was in it, especially when it was just him and his father. Now it was all he had of his father. His father was killed during a riot at the State’s Maximum Security Prison during a gang war. His father was not a bad man but the gang and the neighborhood dictated what you did. The city was divided into north and south. All gangs south of 20TH Street were loyal to the SM (Silent Mafia) while the Northern gangs followed the FH (Familia de Hermanos). Both gangs formed in the state prison system during the 60’s over disagreements on how prison activities should be run. As a result war broke out between the two factions and hundreds of deaths followed over the decades. Ten years ago Juan’s dad, Beto, was approached by the SM to deliver a package across town to a business associate that laundered money for the gang. The package contained two kilo’s of uncut China white heroine. The delivery however, was a set up and Juan’s dad was arrested for possession with intent to distribute. Beto’s dad had no choice, the SM did not take no for answer. If Beto would have said no, the SM would have had his family killed first and then him. Beto did what he had to, it kept his family alive and he got thirty five years for it. Three years into his prison sentence he was killed during a prison disturbance involving the FH.
Hurry up, Ese shrieked Javier as he looked back into the ally to see their pursuers quickly approaching. I’m trying puto! Juan replied as he managed to unlock the door. Juan quickly entered the vehicle and unlocked the passenger side of the car to let his cousin in. By the time Javier closed the door Juan had brought the Impala’s engine to life with a deafening roar and they were both thrown back as the Impala surged forward, both rear tires squealing and smoking just as their pursuers reached them.
What the Fuck is going on shouted Juan. I don’t know man! This is some crazy shit. I swear to God if this is just a dream I’ll never smoke weed again said Javier as he wiped the sweat from his eyes. Javier’s legs were shaking from the running and he was struggling to catch his breath yet he hardly noticed. Javier stared at the floorboard, the images of what he had just seen, flashing before his eyes. This ain’t no dream said Juan as he turned the vehicle onto main street. I know what I saw! I know man; I saw it to, replied Javier, that was my dad, he was fucked up! We’ve got to get some help. Oh man what are we going to do? Shut up and let me think, shouted Juan. I don’t know what to do. We need to find some place to hide and find out what’s going on. What do you mean a place to hide, asked Javier with a look of confusion, there everywhere, you saw them, the whole barrio is full of them. Juan knew Javier was right, there was no place to hide but they had to go somewhere. Fuck it, said Juan as he clenched the steering wheel harder and pushed the accelerator to the floor. We got to get to the hang out, the other vato’s should still be their. Together we can figure something out. Yeah, replied Javier with a sense of hope. That’s a good idea, the homies should still be their, they were throwing a party for Sapo. Right, together we will be stronger and we can protect ourselves. Besides I ain’t taking the chance of running into any more of those diablo’s without a quete.
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