Tuff

The following is based loosely on interviews with former Blood member. Pictures are recreations of actual events.

The Beginning

The first time I held a gun, it felt like getting home after a long vacation. You’re glad to be home, but now you have to readjust to everyday life. I had found an extension of myself that was made of solid rock. I was liberated and imprisoned. I would never escape this freedom laying in my young fourteen-year-old hands. No one could touch me. No one would even look my way, now, because if they did… pop. Those with fully automatic security systems played God while the rest stayed the hell out of the way.

If only I had known the damage my extension would cause. Maybe I would never have picked it up. Or shot Johnny Hinkle. Or joined the 707 Bloods. Maybe I wouldn’t have buried my best friend after his sacrificial death in the streets.