Excercise Thirteen

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Jacob was born beside a dumpster behind a 7-11 convenience mart, less than a few hours later he was left in a basket in front of a fire station. The orphanage begrudgingly raised him as per government mandate, but went little farther than that. Jake one day grew tired of the sanitized living, and escaped to live on the streets. He learned to survive by stealing whatever he could off anybody stupid enough to travel to the ghetto. The life he chose was full of fighting and regularly scheduled loss of blood and infection. He lived by the knife he found killing another boy not older than he was and was infatuated with the serrated edge and its glossy shine he used to blind his rivals, who in this world was everybody. Nobody could trust anyone else even if they were bonded together in the holy matrimony that constituted of the gang. Marking territories and peddling drugs constituted much of Jake’s life. Then one day his supplier provided him with some tainted coke, not that he would know the difference. A white suburban well-to-do man came looking for a quick fix and Jake provided the key to that sensation. He took one sniff of the substance and knew something was wrong. He drew his concealed weapon and shot him between the eyes. Lying in a pool of blood waiting for the demons to drag his soul to the fiery gates of Hades, he thought of how horrible the life he was dealt had been, but knew that being left in that orphanage wouldn’t guarantee anything better.

Ciao Corpsters