Something to know about me before I tell my store is that I loved pulling pranks as a kid. Back when I was 10 or so I got into the wrong group of kids, types that smoked and smelled things they shouldn’t because of their gangbanger relative. Yeah, we lived in that kind of neighborhood. The type that when you go to sleep all you hear is yelling and gunfire right outside your house. Even with the bad situation these kids still liked playing pranks, most likely due to them being junior gang members.
The “Leader” was 14 year old Devon Morris, the type to call shots that weren’t his shots, and the idolizer 11 year old Lee Hopper, the kind of hype man for Devon, then me Jake Lorain or “Lori” as Devon calls me due to my “Girly” face. They saw me as kind of a new blood and brought me into their “gang”. But first they of course needed to initiate me into the group. On a weekend the two brought me to the high school just a few blocks from our neighborhood.
“Those losers over at my wanted some fliers put up for their new class president, you’re gonna’ fix em’ up if you know what I mean.” Devon told me. He handed me the pictures of me that he took with a stapler, “Go ahead and get to work, little Lori.” Devon ordered with a grin. “Couldn’t I get into a lot of trouble?” I meekly asked. Devon pushed me to the ground to drop me on my ass, “Gangsters always get in trouble, it walk makes us tough. You gonna’ be tough or am I gonna’ have to make you tough?” Devon barked with a clenched fist. I got up with the pictures and staplers before going to the school to prove how “tough” I was.
I stapled down my pictures over the female class president that were on the walls of the school, hiding my face with the hood of my jacket. As I was putting down the posters I heard something very faintly, “Respect” I heard. I looked around to see who it was or who was around me but saw nobody. I quickly stapled down all the pictures and once I was done I just simply tossed the stapler, hopping on my small skateboard to skate home. The next day told me for certain I’d made a mistake.
I woke up the next night expecting my mom in my room snapping at me with the principal of the school, but that didn’t happen. I did see that I was late for school and hurried up to get dressed before going out to find my mom. I found her at the dinner table looking absolutely horrible, her skin was filled with rashes and it looked like she hadn’t slept for weeks but it’d only been a day. “Mom, are you okay?” I asked in my usual low tone. Even with my low tone my mother fell out of her sleep to crawl against the fridge. “Get away! Don’t hurt me please!” She cried.
I stepped back in shock and could see her hands, there were cuts and marks across her wrist along with marks that seemed like she was fighting against someone. I tried to step closer but my own mom treated me like I was about to kill her, “Get the fuck away from me you monster!” She howled. Tears rolled down my face before I went and grabbed my skateboard to skate away from home. I skated to where I might find Devon at the school, when I got there it was horrible.
I saw police cars and EMS vans at the school where I could see on the big sign it said, “Rest In Peace: Devon Morris, Lee Hopper, & Jack Lorain”. “What the hell?” I thought out loud. But then I saw my photos on the wall, but they weren’t pictures of me. In each of them were pictures of Devon and Lee but only in pieces, then I saw several pictures of my mom being covered in gashes and slashes, along with my dad dead with his own pistol in his mouth. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” A low and raspy voice said.
I screamed and fell to the ground nearly busting my head wide open, I wish I did so I did have to see the thing in front of me. The thing, was me. My whole person was standing right in front of me but with a twisted face, there were marks, cuts, exposed bone, but skin that looked like it was rotten. The disturbing version of me had no eyes and had a disgusting smiled made with different teeth from all four of my closest friends.
“None of them had respect, your mom had none for your father and so did he, your friends took enjoyment out of disrespecting others, so I had to teach them some respect.” The twisted persona of me said. “T-they were just kids, a-a-and mom and dad never hurt me.” I gasped out. The other me tilted it’s head, “Maybe you can turn things around, but I need to make sure of it.” The other I smiled. He then pulled out a bloodied cleaver, then pulled out my hand. “No, please no!” Were my last few words
I woke up in a hospital hoping that everything I saw and experienced were just a dream, but I looked down and saw the opposite. I grew up using a prosthetic hand that i used to help people. I went to events to teach the effects of becoming a gang member, when a kid sees another kid with a real fake hand it tends to set him straight. If you’re looking for a damn moral it’s pretty obvious. Be respectful to others and be a good part of your community, because trust me, you don’t want to see what happens if you don’t.