The Night Before

 
My mind diverted to the night
before, where my team and I, pulled the biggest underground heist this side of
Atlanta has ever seen. Me, Brasco ,FACE, AK and Bhudda have done some small
jobs before together, but nothing to this magnitude. Mainly we focused our
attention on local drug houses along the West End, Bankhead, and Martin Luther
King. I got a certain gratification of robbing the very scumbags that sold
drugs in my community and watching them squirm as I forced the barrel of my
pistol into their mouths.”Where is the FUNKING money?,” is what I would calmly
say before I smack em across the face with my glock. That’s just protocol, to
let them know we’re serious. AK, my cousin, on the other hand, wasn’t as
gentle. Ever since he shot his mother’s abusive husband three years ago, he
hasn’t been the same since. For that reason, FACE, my brother from another,
always made sure to monitor AK, because he already had two strikes and a third
would land him in Fulton County for a while. Taking all that into
consideration, we agreed to just do small local jobs. Yeah, we knew it was
wrong, but we had mouths to feed and needed to feed them fast.
I was at that point of my thought
process, when I faintly heard a familiar and annoying voice. It was Mr.
Whittman, and he was frantically trying to get FACE to talk, and by the way
FACE was looking at him, it wasn’t going to happen. Especially, when FACE
looked at me and gave the sign to look at the clock. I casually glanced at the
huge state issued clock and saw that is was exactly 2:55pm. With that piece of
information, I smiled and looked out the window. I saw the sun find it’s way back
into the afternoon and the sunshine quickly discarded any evidence that it had
been storming previously. Upon recognizing my delight, Mr.Whittman  turned and prepared to unleashed his fury of
bombarding questions on me. Before the first word could form on his now
dehydrated lips, we were all suddenly taken aback by the shrilling sound
originating from the wall above the clock. (RIIIIIINGGG !!! ) It was the 3 o’
clock bell . It was my last class for the day and school was over. As the
overly impatient students stood up and rushed out of class headed to the school
buses, I stayed behind. With FACE right beside me, I spoke to Mr.Whittman.  I told him I knew what he thought of us. I
knew he filled out daily reports on his students and labeled us as a “lost cause”.
I knew that, he figured since we lived in a poverty stricken community and come
from broken homes that we wouldn’t amount to anything. I also knew that he
labeled ME a below the average reader, because I never chose to read in class
or pay him any mind. But, what I didn’t tell him was that I LOVED to read. My
favorite books are “The Audacity of Hope’ by Barack Obama/ “Souls of Black
Folks”, by W.E. B. Dubois/”Roots”& “Malcom X” by Alex Hailey/ “Think and
Grow Rich” by Napoleon Hill just to name a few. I didn’t tell him, because he
provided me with one of my most powerful 
allies – UNDERESTIMATION . As long as he and his fellow counterparts
continued to look down on us and stereotype, I will continue to light up the
skyline of Atlanta. I am RICO WADE and this is the beginning … 

 

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