Bloodline of a Mafia

By Steve E. Wright

I would like to welcome everyone to a small town call varnville in South Carolina. Where a
young kid by the name of G-black took over the streets. He was put out of school for fighting
and threatens a teacher. After he was out of school, he was searching to find away to help his
poor mother and father out. He could not sit back and watch his parents struggle. At an early age
of fourth teen, he jump out into streets and watch everyone got there hustle on in the projects.
As he would sit back and watch, he came up with an idea to help his struggling parents out.
Over the years, he became loyalty to the drug game, and forming a Mafia organization. G-black
became dominant in his city taking it to a completely new level.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 16, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453505229

Steve E. Wright

STEVE WRIGHT was born and raised in Varnville, South Carolina. He now lives in Clermont Florida. He discovered his affair for writing while he was incarcerate at the Lake County Correctional facility in Tavares Florida. He wrote most of his novel out on paper while he was serving four months back in 2007. In July of 2009, he started typing his manual script up on his laptop computer. He would stay up all night and part of day to write his inclusive novel. What inspired him to be an Author over the years was reading all sort of books by different successful author’s like Donald Goings, Terry Woods, Carl Webber, Jaquavis Coleman, and many more. As he read, he became brilliant and had a vision of writing his own novel. This is his first novel, which is calling the Black Mafia, and he has the inspiration to write many more as he can. He would peep and study game by reading books like How to write a damn good Novel by James N. Frey. In addition, plot & structure by Author James Scott Bell. Everything he could pick up, read, and study how to write a Novel, he would.

Book preview

Bloodline of a Mafia

Steve E. Wright

Copyright © 2010 by Steve E. Wright.

Library of Congress Control Number:  2010911701

ISBN: Hardcover    978-1-4535-0521-2

ISBN: Softcover      978-1-4500-9789-5

ISBN: Ebook           978-1-4535-0522-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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66337

DEDICATION

First, I would like to dedicate this first book to the man up above.

I would like to say thank you for guiding me with this great opportunity.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgment

INTRODUCTION

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

CHAPTER Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteenth

Chapter fOURTEEN

Chapter FIFTEEN

Chapter SIXTEEN

Chapter seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

chapter Twenty-four

chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

CHAPTER Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter One

Chapter Two

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

I WOULD LIKE to thank my mother, Mrs. Lillie Mae Wright, for giving birth to me! Praises are due forever.

I would also like to thank my true family and friends for believing in me, when I spoke about having a clear vision to write a book. Special thanks to those who laughed and giggled about the idea, and thank God for help making my dream come true, I still love all y’all haters each and every day. To my hometown—thanks to my city called Varnville born and raised in the projects. To my true homies in Clermont—thanks to the ones who pushed me to make this happen. I would also like to thanks this special person for believing in me, and supported me with every word she had in her heart to push me to make it happen. Thank you, Mrs. Latasha Harris, you and your three terrific kids, Trayshawn, Jikeem, and Nana.

Also thanks to Gwendolyn Evone Jackson for believing in me when no one else would. You taught me to keep going, and told me not to let anything stop me from getting where I needed to go.

Xlibris Team—I would like to thank you all for taking me on. Special thanks to Alan Elias when I needed you. You always had been there. My final thanks go to my father, John Edward Wright, who is now in heaven. Thanks Pop for being my father.

INTRODUCTION

WELCOME TO THE town of Varnville in South Carolina, where the streets are flooded with drugs and dead bodies are found every day. Varnville is the home of ballers, and you must be a true hustler to survive in these ruthless streets. The population is very small, but the people in this small town mind their own business—hear nothing and see nothing what the people believe in, living in this small gangster town.

PROLOGUE

AFTER DENNIS WAS done from packing, he returned back downstairs. Once he was downstairs, he took his luggage bag and small black briefcase and sat them on the living room floor. As he went to sit his belong’s down, the doorbell then rung. He stood there like a frozen popsicle as he heard the sound of his doorbell, thinking if he should answer the door or not. While he continued to stand their paranoid, the doorbell rang once again. He finally made his decision to answer it. He then slowly paced his way over to the door.

Who is it? Dennis asked when he made his way over to the door, turning the knob of the door to open it. He leaned his head out to see if someone was there. But there was no one there or answered him at the time. As he went to go back inside, a sound of a deep thrashing voice spoke out loud.

You murthafucker! said one guy, while the other two charged at him, bringing him down to the floor of the door.

They immediately dragged him into the house and closed and locked the door behind them.

Hurry up. Grab a chair, said a short guy with an all-back ski mask that covered his face. So the tall guy rushed over to the dining room to grab a chair like he was told to. He pulled the chair from the glass table, and brought it to the living room floor. They shoved him into the fancy steel brass chair, while tying both of his arms around the back of the chair. They placed and tied both of his hands with rope and placed gray duct tape around his mouth. The short guy who was standing there then ripped the duct tape from his mouth.

Please, please, Don’t’ kill me," said Dennis when the duct tape was removed from his mouth.

Give me a good reason not to kill your bitch ass, said the short guy standing there, stuffing the black nine millimeter in his mouth.

I didn’t told nothing or anything, lied Dennis in a frightened tone of voice.

I hate fuckin’ snitches, said G-Black pulling off his ski mask. Dennis was shocked too see G-Black standing there in front of him when the ski mask came off. His eyes widened from the shock of seeing G-Black. After he saw G-Black, he thought about crooked-ass agent Cheetah, as he realized then that Agent Cheetah had done his dirty work by informing G-Black, that he had squealed.

G-Black, I’m sorry, said Dennis, as tears came trinkling down his cheeks. He was begging G-Black not to take his life. As he sat there and begged, his jeans got soaked. His urine came flushing out from his jeans into the seat of the chair.

Do you think snitches deserve to live? asked Hustle-Hard hitting him across the face with the chrome 380-caliber pistol. Blood gushed out from his nose and dripped onto the carpet of the living room floor.

While G-Black and Hustle-Hard were manhandling Dennis, Heavy reached down on the floor and lifted up the small briefcase that was placed down on the floor. He then grabbed it by the handle to remove it from the floor. Bingo, Heavy spoke out when he popped open the briefcase. The briefcase was filled with nothing but hundred-dollar bills.

Take the money and leave, said Dennis in a fast tone of voice.

Yea, we’re gone take the money and your snitchin’ ass life. G-Black responded back to him.

I see that you had your luggage bag packed, ready to leave dodge, hun? asked Heavy snapping the briefcase back, while holding it in his hand.

Please, don’t kill me, said Dennis as he continued to beg for his life. He cried out loud hoping and praying that he would live to see the next day. His mind start to wonder about his wife Kela, hoping she would bust through the door to save him, as Dennis watched the door from the chair he was tied in. But there was no sound of Kela coming through the door. He then eased his head down lookin’ onto the carpet, watching his blood slowly dripped from his nose and knowing his life would be over in a few seconds. He knew at the time what he had done had came back to bite him in the ass.

Why Dennis? I thought we could’ve trust one another in the game. When I first met you, you were the one who introduced the rules of the game to me, telling me it must be trust. Do you remember? asked G-Black. Yeah, man, I do, but sometimes, when a man back is against the wall, he will do whatever it takes to get it off, said Dennis in a pitiful tone of voice. Dennis did everything he could’ve thought of to persuade G-Black not to kill him.

Poor fuckin’ excuse. Don’t give me that off-the wall bullshit, said G-Black in a more angry voice.

At the time, Dennis’s were speakin’ his last words and taking in his last breath.

Bang, bang, bang! gunshots went firing off. G-Black busted three slugs down his throat, blood went to splattered everywhere. Blood splashed on the clothes of G-Black and the living room floor. Dennis’s body shivered and trembled from the bullets down his throat. His head leaned to the side and his breath became to a stopping point. It was all over for him in a quick second. His soul was at rest; he didn’t have no more worrying to do. G-Black was happy with the outcome of killing him. He put on a huge smile on his face and looked at the black nine millimeter that was in his hand at the time. The nine millimeter was the same gun Dennis had given him earlier in the game.

Cowards don’t deserve to live, said G-Black before him and his click left the scene.

It was two thirty in the morning and Kela just arrived home from the grocery store. As she pulled in the driveway of her home, she threw her car into park. She then jumped out and went to the backdoor of the car to open it. She immediately unloaded the grocery from the backseat of the car. When she made it inside the house, she sat the grocery on the counter. She then slid over to the living room. Oh my god! she shouted when she saw her husband lying there dead and bleeding. At the time, blood ran from the carpet to the wood grain kitchen floor. As she screamed and hollered, she ran over to the kitchen to grab the cordless house phone. She quickly dialed 911 from the touch-tone phone.

911, where is the emergency?" asked the operator.

I have an emergency at my home on Mill Pond Road in Varnville. My husband has been shot and killed, Kela told the 911 operator.

Ma’am stay on the phone until someone get there, said the 911 operator.

After Kela told the operator where the emergency was, the sounds of sirens started to sound off and helicopters soared through the sky. The Varnville Police Department was the first to arrive at the scene.

Hi, my name is Chief Johnny Tuten, he said to Kela, when he entered the house.

The cop and Kela then walked over to the dead body, that was in the chair.

Do you know what happen to him? asked the chief of police, when they stood in front of the deadbody.

I went out to go to the grocery store. And when I return from the store, my husband was dead, said Kela in a crying voice.

As Kela went on to speak, he removed a small pad and pen from his blue police uniform. He pulled his pad out to right down what Kela was telling him at the time. By the time he was asking her more information, the paramedics came flying through the door to the living room with a stretcher.

After the chief of police were done with talkin’ with Kela, a dark-skinned man came walking in going over to the crime scene. At the time, the man was dressed in brown khakis with a white buttoned-up casual shirt. He was a detective from the Hampton County Sheriff Department. His name was Detective Smith.

What we have here? asked the detective when he came up on the scene.

Look like to me we have a crucial murder, said the chief of police to the detective.

I know whoever done it, it was somethin’ from how they got the victim tied up, said the detective.

While the detective and chief discussed the murder, the paramedics removed the body from the chair and placed it onto the stretcher. As paramedics removed the body from the house, the detective then move his way over to Kela.

Hi, Ma’am, I ‘m Detective Smith from the Hampton County Sheriff Department, said the detective pulling out his badge.

I’m Kela, she responded.

The guy who was murdered, was he related to you? he asked.

Yes, he is my husband, said Kela watching her husband’s body leave the house.

Mrs. Kela, do you mind if I ask you a few questions? Sure, she said in a trembling voice.

As Kela stood there with Detective Smith, Agent Cheetah came walking through the front door. When Kela saw him approach the house, she then left peeling off over to him. You dirty bastard, she said lookin’ him in the face.

What is the matter, Mrs. Kela? he asked in an innocent tone of voice.

You know what the fuckin’ matter is. You’re the fuckin’ reason why my husband is dead. You son of a bitch, said Kela.

Kela was very angry at that time with him that she would’ve killed him. While she continued to curse him, Detective Smith came up and grabbed her by the arm.

Calm down, he told her as he grabbed her.

As Kela moved to the corner of the house, Agent Cheetah stood there calmly with his right hand stuff in his black khakis’ pants pocket.

While standing in the same spot, Detective Smith greeted Agent Cheetah. Hi, I’m Detective Smith from the Hampton County Sheriff Department, said Detective Smith holding his right hand out to Agent Cheetah.

I’m Federal Agent Daniel Cheetah, he told while gripping Detective Smith’s right hand.

Can I see you on the outside? asked Detective Smith.

Yes, you may, said Agent Cheetah following Detective Smith out to the front of the house.

How well did you know the victim who was murdered? he asked Agent Cheetah when they both were on the outside.

Agent Cheetah took a cigarette from his pack and fired it up before he went to speak. Yes, I did know Mr. Dennis Miller, he told Detective Smith, blowing out smoke. As the smoke came from the cigarette, detective started to fan the smoke away.

Excused me, Detective, said Agent Cheetah with a crooked smile on his face.

How well and from where did you know him? asked Detective Smith writing notes down on his pad.

A drug dealer who moved to the South from New York. He was a convicted felony, and he just was released from jail a couple days ago, Agent Cheetah stated.

The whole time Agent Cheetah was giving Detective Smith the history of Dennis’s street life. But he held the truth about the reason what caused him to get murdered. He was not going to let the detective talk him into about truth. What cause Dennis’s crucial death.

Do you know rather he had any run in with anybody in the streets? asked Detective Smith.

Come on Detective Smith, I didn’t know the victim’s life out there on the streets. I just arrested him, Agent Cheetah said sarcasm.

Detective Smith stared in Agent Cheetah’s eyes with a look like he knew what the murder was about. At the time, Agent Cheetah couldn’t insist the straight eye contact from the detective. He lowered his head to the ground of the sidewalk slowly, to avoid the physical eye contact. They both stood their quietly at the moment, watching the rest of the officers investigate the murder scene.

Do you have anymore questions to ask me? asked Agent Cheetah, while they both stood there.

No, not at this particular second, said Detective Smith to Agent Cheetah, watching his reactions.

Agent Cheetah then left the presence of the detective going out to his blue Impala that he had parked outside of the fence of Dennis’s home. Agent Cheetah already knew and had thought who murdered Dennis. But he was going to keep hush, and he also knew Kela knew that he was the reason.

CHAPTER ONE

BACK IN THE year 1994, in the projects, lived a ruthless gangster by the name of Gary Black, who lived deep off in the projects. At an early age of fourteen, he was kicked out of school for fighting and threatening a teacher. Afterward, he was sent to the principal’s office; he then was expelled from school the entire year for stabbing a student with a pencil. As soon as he was expelled, he was being escorted from school campus by the Varnville chief of police. On the way home from the high school campus, he rode in the backseat of the blue and white patrol car, gazing from the backseat window of the car. As the police car went to turn on the four-lane highway, he then drifted off into a deep thinking mode. He was thinking and feeling like a true criminal to society as he rode in the backseat of the patrol car.

The chief of police arrived at Gary’s parents’ home in the projects. He pulled into the empty parkin’ space in the front entrance of the apartment. He then removed from his vehicle; walked to the backdoor of the car, and lifted the chrome handle of the backdoor to open. Gary then placed both feet on the ground to exit the patrol car. They both glided up the steep sidewalk to the front door of his parents’ small apartment.

Are your parents’ home? asked the chief of police.

They should be, he told the police, standing there with an angry look on his face.

The chief of police then lifted his right hand to tap on the glass-made screen door of the apartment.

Tap, tap, tap was the sound from the door when the chief of police knocked at the door. As the chief stood there waiting for a response, the door then came flying open. It was a short black woman who came to the door.

How are you doin’, Mrs. Black? the police asked when the door came open.

I’m fine, she replied lookin’ terrified seeing her son escorted home by a police.

I’m Chief Tuten, he said introducing himself to Gary’s mother.

Nice to meet you, his mother said extending her right hand out to his.

The chief of police then shook her hand with a firm grip, as his mother stood there with a terrified look place on her face, wondering why her son was being escorted home by a cop.

What’s the matter with Gary? she asked lookin’ directly at the cop’s face.

May I come in? he then asked.

Sure, she replied, holding the door open to let him in.

As soon as the chief came inside the house, he saw a man kick back in a rocking chair reading a newspaper.

How do you do sir? the chief asked the short, stocky-built muscular man as he walked into the living room.

I’m fine, the man said before he placed the newspaper down on the old antique coffee table.

Before the chief of police gave them details about their troubled son, he stared and gazed around their small two-bedroom apartment. As he watched closely with both eyes glued to their home, he quickly noticed that the Black family were poor people. The furniture in the living room had worn down, and they did not have much to call as furniture. While the chief stood and watched, Gary’s father moved his lips to speak.

Have a seat, Gary’s father told the chief of police. Okay. I will, he said plopping down onto the sofa. As he sat on the old worn-down sofa, one leg fell from the sofa causing it to rock back and forth. The chief of police staggered to side of the sofa’s armrest to maintain his balance.

Sorry about that, his father said to the chief.

That’s all right, the chief squealed placing his glasses back properly onto his face.

After the chief sat properly on the worn-down sofa, Gary’s father then went to introduce himself.

I’m Joe Black, he said loud and proud, not ashamed of who he was.

Well, I’m the chief of police of this town, he stated.

While the chief sat there with his legs crossed, he went to fill in Gary’s parents on the reason he had come out to their home. The reason why I am here is because your son was expelled from school today, the chief of police explained to them about their son.

As soon as Gary’s father heard the word expelled from school, he fletched up in his rockin’ chair to make sure he was hearin’ the chief correctly. Expelled! For what? he asked lookin’ over at the chief of police.

For stabbing another student with a pencil, the chief said to him.

Gary’s father did not play when it came to trouble in his home. He always believed in respect and guidance in his home, and he wanted his son to get an education and grow up to be a successful young man in society. Back in his days when he was growing up, he could not go to school. He had to work and help his family out. However, he did not want his son to grow up like him without education. In other words, he was very hard on him to get his education.

As the chief continued to explain to both of them about their son, Gary stood there quiet with a frowned look on his face, as if he could kill the whole world. He was truly upset at this time, and his eyes were bloodshot red. One could see the look of death on his entire face. While he stood there with a frown, his father went to question him about the incident.

Why are you actin’ up in school? his father asked.

I was just defending myself, he told his father lookin’ discouraged.

After he stood there telling his father what went on at school, his father gave Gary a lecture about how hard it’s for him and his mother to send him to school. And that time was hard for the both of them and it was difficult to buy his school clothes, and he got kicked out of the school. His mother did not say too much about the situation. She was a very easygoing person with her son, because he was her only child. His father was strict with his house rules. Gary was very smart, and he knew his parents were struggling to make sure he stayed in school. Over the years, as he grew up, he had always wanted a better life for his parents. He prayed night and day for his parents to live in a better condition, than the way they were living now.

Don’t you know we raised you better than that, his father said removing from his rockin’ chair.

Yes, sir, he grumbled in a sad manner.

Why do you act this way? His father had wanted an explanation why he was acting up in school. Gary stood there facing his father without sayin’ a word. His father then told him, Since you are out of school, you have two choices—go find a job or get out of my house. Gary’s father was giving him a grown-man decision to make. He was letting him know since he was expelled from school, that he could not lounge around his house doing nothing.

Now, go to your room. his father said giving him a direct order. Gary then removed from where he stood, going to his small cluster room. As he walked into his room, his head hung to the floor and his heart hurt from the disciplinary action from his father. As soon as Gary went into his room, closing the door behind him, the chief of police got up from the sofa where he sat; he was on his way to leave and go to patrol the city limits.

I’m sorry for the trouble, he said to both parents, walking toward the door.

That’s okay, his father squealed, trailing right behind him.

I hope Gary changes before it’s too late, the chief of police said turning the doorknob to exit.

He will, his father said closing the door.

Gary’s mother and father struggled to maintain a stable household. Deep inside his heart, he was tired of seeing his parents strugglin’. He started to think and come up with a way to help them out. Next, he went around the town lookin’ for a job, but he could not find any. Therefore, he started to hang out in the streets. He then started to observe the ruthless streets and seeing a way to make a living. Gary’s mind started to wonder with a big thought, How to get rich? If he had to kill in order to get where he need to be, he would.

While Gary hung out on the streets of Varnville, he started to pick up bad habits such as smoking cigarettes, weed, and drinking.

Gary then met a female by the name of Spicy, who live on the outside of the projects. Spicy, was a stallion redbone female with long, jet-black hair, with a round-shaped ass. She is tall and slender with long legs and a set of wide hips. She is a nice lookin’ attractive female any man would love to have her in their life. She is thick in all the right places.

Mrs. Loretta, which is her mother always kept her in the house and showed her how to live life the correct way.

Mrs. Loretta is forty years old and do not even look her age. She is high yellow and tall with long hair. Mrs. Loretta cooked at the middle school in Varnville. The middle school where she cooked at is called North District Middle School. The school was there for many years. Mrs. Loretta is a very responsible parent when it comes down to her daughter. She has Spicy under rules and regulations in her home. She did her very best to keep Spicy out of the streets. After her husband died, she played the mother and the father role in her daughter’s life. Everyone in the hood thought of Mrs. Loretta as a hateful mean person. However, she was only being a concerned parent for her daughter’s life. Spicy did not have too many friends to be around with at the time. Her mother made sure she did not ran the streets with any or everybody because of the bad tragedy of Spicy’s father on drugs. Her father was a heroin addict. Her father had loved drugs more than he loved his family or his self. The drugs really had token over her father’s life real bad.

Early one morning, the Varnville police was out patrolling the area and found her father’s body behind a dumpster in the projects. Ever since then, her mother raised her and taught her how to grow up and to be somebody in life. When her father was found dead, she was a arm baby. Her father died from a drug overdose.

At that time, Spicy was still in the high school; she was in the ninth grade. She attended school at Wade Hampton High. The school was about a mile from where she lived.

Every day, Spicy and Gary would meet up after school, in the park, to talk about their future of being together. One cool afternoon, in the park, he and Spicy sat on the bleachers discussing their future about being together. She turned to face him and then asked, What are you going to do with your life?

Gary then placed a huge smile on his shiny dark complexion face and said, One of these days I’m going to be wealthy! Baby, I am goin’ to have the whole world in my hand. So much money, power, and respect, Gary replied as he looked into her eyes. Gary still had his plan in existence of having the whole world inside of his hands. Gary had a crucial plan that no other youngster had thought about. He had decided that he was going to jump into the streets into the drug game, and that no one could stop him or get into his way. Spicy had accepted him and his amazing idea that he had built up in his mind. At that time, she did not know and understand where he was comin’ from or about what dirty work he was creating in his intelligent mind. Whatever he, thought about was going to help both of them, she was okay with it. Her goals at that time were to finish school and go to college to be a criminal lawyer. Even for living in a bad corrupt neighborhood, she did have a future. And her future was to grow up and be somebody. After they were done from discussing their future, Gary then walked her home for the night. They would walk and hold one another’s hands like as if they were walking down the aisle to get married.

I will see you, she told him giving him a kiss. They both swallowed one another’s tongue with passion. Goodnight, Gary told her letting her go inside for the night. She then walked up to the steep porch of the house; he gazed upon her healthy thick body, as she went to go inside.

Before Gary went inside his house that night, he took a seat at the main entrance of the projects. He sat down on the concrete sidewalk at the top entrance of the pjs’.

As he sat there and watched his ruthless environment, he seen a young gangster his age hustle drugs on the street corner of the projects. The thugs and gangster in his hood would hustle whatever they could to make a dollar. They would sell drugs and guns, to do what they have to do to come up with money. Gary continued to sit there and watch the street life in his hood; a kid then came rollin’ up to him.

What’s up, G-Black, the kid said to him, who lived in the same projects as he does. G-Black was his alias name he was given by the gangsters who lived in the projects of Varnville. The G stood for gangster and B was short for his last name. G-Black raised up from the concrete sidewalk and went to speak, Nothing much, just trying to find me a hustle out here in these streets. G-Black always kept his conversation short and he never would let the next man know what was up his sleeve. He always believed in the old sayin’, Your left hand should never let the right hand know what you are doing. He was a true believer to that saying ever since he heard his father spoke those words.

You just got to choose one lil’ man, the young kid told him, pulling out a knot of money from his pocket.

I already have one in plan, G-Black responded walking off to go in for the night.

The Varnville projects was a ruthless place to live and to grow up. The area stays noisy, and traffic stays busy in and out all night long. The old people who lived there were scared even to come out of their door sometimes. All time of the night, you could hear gunshots being fired and the sound of loud sirens. Gary lived in the old projects, which were built back in the early eighties. It was called the old projects, because it was the first one to be built. You had to be very careful and be up on your game to survive to the fullest. Whenever a murder went down or happened, the community never opened there mouths. It was call lil’ gangster’s paradise. You had to went along with the flow in order to survive. The living area was very clean and people’ stayed to their selves.

When Gary returned home later on that night from the dangerous ruthless street of Varnville, his parents still were up stressing about money to pay the bills with. His parents would be tryin’ to figure a way out on how to pay the bills, knowin’ that they were not makin’ enough money to live and to pay their bills. Rosa Black, who is G-Black’s mother, is a full-blooded Cherokee Indian. She has long, jet-black, satin hair that hangs to her back. She always kept her hair tied up in a long ponytail. In the front part of her head, there set a patch of gray hair. The gray hair stood for the sign of wisdom what she had about herself. She is a very short woman with a lot of heart. She was very sweet to the people in the hood. She was working at a Laundromat; she only made two hundred dollars a week.

Her husband’s name was Joe Black. He worked for the town of Varnville. He rode his bike to work every morning just to bring in money to feed his family. Joe Black is muscular built, with a huge set of arms and short. He always wore old-fashioned braids in his hair, which he would never take loose. He was a very proud man just to have a job in the hood. He would go to work every day as the lord sent him. His father also knew it was not enough money to take care of his family. Some days, it would rain and he could not work.

As both of his parents sat at the wooden shaky table lookin’ over their bills, G-Black slowly eased past his stressful parents, he was going to his room. When he entered inside his room, he went walking over to his bed. He then lay across his bed, thinking of away to help his parents. While he lay there, he deeply thought to his self to find out away to help them; he then drifted off into a deep sleep.

CHAPTER TWO

THE NEXT MORNING G-Black jumped out of his bed. After he got up, he went stumbling over to his room’s closet. He plundered through the old dusty lookin’ closet. The closet was filled with so much dust that you would’ve need a mask on to go inside. He grabbed some clothes from his wooden top-shelf to stuff inside his green duffel bag. On his mind, that particular morning was to leave his parents’ house, to go out on his own to find away to help his parents. He was on his way to go and see a older gangster he had known from New York. Once he was all set and ready to leave. He grabbed his green duffel bag from the floor and threw it across his shoulder. Before he decided to leave, he went and stood at the doorway of his parents’ room, and they both were wide asleep. As he stood at the entrance of his parents’ doorway, tears came pouring down his cheeks. He cried because he really loved his parents. And he couldn’t see himself sitting around and not doing anything about it. He was growing into a man stage at a young age. Next, he tiptoed away from his parents’ doorway, going to the front door to leave. He paced up the bumpy road down from the projects, carrying his tote bag on his shoulder. He was going to the script to make a move. The script is a street where all the drug dealers made money and hung out.

When he arrived down at the script, he stood there lookin’ around observing the confected—drug area. The area was flooded with all types of drugs such as cocaine, crack, and weed. The place was a mess with trash and beer bottles everywhere, and traffic was very busy all day in and out. The script was located about a block down from the projects from where G-Black lived. The script is also a one-way street. It was one way in and one way out. The dope fiends would drive up into the script to get their drugs, and the hustlers would run up to their vehicles to serve them. He stood and watched the hustlers got there hustle on. He then approached a tall, slender, black kid who was standing there serving a car.

Whass’ up man? he asked the tall, black kid, who just got finished serving a customer.

Nothing much, the tall kid said to him, pulling out a bag of drugs from his waistline, what you need?

At that time, the kid was thinking G-Black wanted to buy drugs.

Is Dennis around? asked G-Black setting his duffel bag down to the ground.

Yea, shortly, he is around back takin’ care of business.

May I see him? asked G-Black.

Hold on, the kid told him walking off to see where Dennis was.

Dennis was around back of the script lounge back in his candy-apple red Lexus coupe. He was collecting his money from all the drug dealers’ who owed him. While Dennis sat in the passenger seat of his vehicle counting money, the tall, slender kid then arrived around back and yelled his name out. Dennis, the kid yelled from the top of his lungs, when he came around back.

What’s the deal? asked Dennis removing from the passenger seat of his vehicle?

Some git around front want to see you, the kid said to Dennis describing G-Black as a youngster.

Tell him to come around, said Dennis placing all his money into his black briefcase.

As G-Black stood and waited around front of the script for the kid to return from around back, he went into his pant’s pocket to withdraw a pack of cigarette. He was very anxious to meet Dennis and to do business with him. The palm of his right hand starts to get moist from the excitement. As soon as he went to fire up his Newport cigarette, he heard a voice yelling from around the back. Hey lil’ man, the kid yelled from around back to get G-black attention.

After G-black heard, the kid yelling out to him, he removed his duffel bag from the ground and walked toward the back. When G-Black arrived around back, he glanced around and seen Dennis sitting in his car. He then walked up to the nice luxury car where Dennis was sitting.

Dennis is from New York. He is a big drug lord who moved to South Carolina, because the feds was on his ass up in NYC. He was running for the feds on conspiracy and trafficking charges. He were already indicted on enormous of drug charges; it was a matter of time, before they came to expicted him back to the huge city. He runs all type of businesses such as crack houses, car washes, hip-hop clothing store, and restaurants. Dennis is in his early thirties and tall; he always kept a clean shave with a ball head. Dennis has all sorts of people selling drugs for him. However, no one could have come short with his money.

What’s up? asked G-Black, when he made it up to Dennis’s car.

Nothing much, said Dennis. What made you come here? asked Dennis lookin’ at the expression on his face, knowing he wanted something.

I need to holler at you about some business, stated G-Black.

Get in, Dennis told him turning the ignition to start up his car, to go ride and discuss their businesses. Therefore, G-Black jumped into the car, and then took his duffel bag and threw it to the backseat of the car. As they both rode around the town under the cold blowing air conditioner of the car, Dennis lounged back in his suede car seat and went to move his lips to speak. What is on your mind? Dennis asked him while he drove around the town of Varnville.

G-Black then went on to explain him why he needed the money. I’m trying to help my parents out and get them somewhere better to live.

I can understand where you are coming from. I been there before, Dennis said gripping down on the steering wheel tighter. Are you a hustler?" Dennis asked.

Yes, I’m a true hustler, replied G-Black.

Have you ever sold cocaine before? asked