Chapter 1
If there is a way, I will describe this place, I would say. HOPELESS. Kids become criminals, people like us lived in apartments that looked like garbage dumps, not to mention the crime rates in this city. Don’t get me started. If you guys are wondering, " Who is this mysterious person talking to us?” My name is Enzo and I am a Greaser.
Unless you have friends, you ain’t going to last a day in this dump. My friends and I just do the usual: Goofing around with the authorities, throw rocks at windows, sometimes we do firecrackers, and we use our slingshots just make fun of the cops knowing how dumb they are. If you guys think we don’t have fashion, perhaps you haven’t met the Greasers yet. We wear leather jackets and denim pants. We usually wear brown-black shoes, and we always put on this greasy jelly to our hairs just to look good. I think you guys know how we got the name... We also comb our hair in different styles such as slicked-back, cowlick, etc. Most of the time, I and the boys always grab each other's throat so much that our boss will end up roaring like a lion! Although, in the end, we are like brothers. If there is one thing you need to know us, Greasers is that you gotta be tough but loyal.
Although life is cruddy in this place due to poor economic status, it is the people who make it good. One time, when I first stole a loaf of bread, I got cornered by the po-po. I genuinely thought it was gonna be the end, I thought it was over. Suddenly, the boys started throwing firecrackers around the men with the uniforms just to save my fanny; they were lifesavers. The firecrackers looked like fireworks from the 4th of July. You should’ve seen the cops’ faces; they were like pigs who squeal around a burning barn. Honestly, the bread is not for me; it is for my friends. We were just misunderstood, we needed food, we needed fun in our lives.
I have been with the gang since I was 10, my childhood amigo and leader, Tony. That guy is a bear when it comes to fighting, I learned my stuff from that guy. He leads the group with a lead pipe. Anyway, another purpose why people like me exist is that we can’t afford a good education, and we always feel we can’t make it. Each day, we violently fought different gang members just to keep our turf safe.
ARRRGHH!!!!
When there are poor kids, there are rich kids. In case, you guys don’t know, I am talkin’ about those Prep kids; God, I hate them. They always act like stuck-up jerks. They consistently act like they’re better than us. You see, unlike us scumbags, they CAN afford everything. That is probably why most of my boys hate them. Whenever you see us and the Preppies in one classroom, expect the guards to charge in and break up a fight. The group is lead by Patrick Collins, that man is a real piece of work I tell you that. Two days ago, he picked a fight with Tony at the cafeteria. Things got out of hand since Vance joined in the fun and delivered Patrick a swift kick in the groin. After the fight; however, the three got sent to the office with the guards dragging them with their left ears throughout the halls. The Principal roared at the three, and they all got suspended for four days.
Hey, Enzo, whatcha’ doing.
Enter Peter. He and I have been friends since the first day of 8th grade. We met when I first arrived in math class; he was so annoying. Every day he asked me how the weather was, and I just shrugged with a “fine.“Also, he talks a lot about random things like how coffee stunts your growth. I know he wanted to be friends but, it’s tiresome okay. Somehow, he is less tolerable every time I see him each day. He helped me with homework in math even though we never usually see eye to eye. One time, I was pranking the boy’s bathroom by throwing a timed firecracker in every toilet, and you know what he did. He distracted the guards by causing a ruckus in the halls. The kid banged the lockers with his foot like it didn’t even hurt. After that event, we became actual friends. We typically talk every time I am done hanging out with the Greasers throughout the day because I don’t think the boys will like him. Pete and I just plan under the bridge that connects to the city. He plans good pranks like putting hair dye in the Principal’s hat.
Hey, I am just...writing.
I have to tell you something, Enzo, something important... I am a Preppy.
