June 13th 2003

It was the finest day in history it seemed as the gentle breeze blew by so smoothly scratching the surface of my short-cut hair, as I stood on the corner of 115th Street, with what I had not planned of wanting to do .. however I had no choice. This or being put under the grave with the rest of his former-affiliates.

It was soooo fucking hot at the minute.

Standing on the corner, walking back and forth, having to sell this case to the buyer, as Baxter made me the dealer. If I fucked up, that was my head. If it went through, whatever came next. Sweat beads rolled off of my forehead as constant wiping occured during the waiting period.

I wish I never fucking got in the middle of this.

Baxter had caught onto me due to his former affiliate, being cool friends with me, he handed me a bag in a disclosed area or so of which he thought was disclosed. However Baxter always was on top of everyone who sold for him. Followed with a smirk, followed the 9mm coming from his side, piercing my friend right in the head, as Baxter was of course, the heartless bastard.

He then put me under watch, threatening me that if I didn't sell for him. I'd be fucking friend toast. I was young, only fucking seventeen. High School? It wasn't nothing new. Education, it wasn't going to lead to no interesting job of choice. I was currently undefeated in the underground world of boxing. Money in which I earned slightly mid-ranking change, due to it being much of an underground-based source. However, I knew in time, I'd make it back up. Didn't know how, but I was going to be making it up.

Still waiting on the corner for this "guy". Taking his sweetest bit of time, to fucking get here. I just continued to wait ...

 

--- Few minutes passes ---

 

Finally I knew this had to be the guy. The black limo that pulled up slow and like rubbing slightly against the curb, as the windows were double-tinted. A rough, slight wrinkles, a confident smirk as I looked at him, trying to keep the water from eyes, as I wiped yet again. He looked at me, as he reached for his briefcase.

"One hundred grand in this case ..." He said with a rough-toned like voice.

I slowly grabbed for the briefcase before sitting it on the ground beside the lunchbag that was of course filled with fifty bags of coke, all in a large-like sized carrying bag. He smriked as I grabbed onto the straps, picking it up, and finally handing it to him. He looked in the bag to check, cutting a slit in the bag as he used his pinky to "test" to see if it was the real deal. The nervous part of what I hoped didn't go bad.

A shake of the head, as he stuck his hand out, in a shake of hands, he nodded.

"Nice doing buisness with ya' ..." He said as he slowly rolled the windows back up, as the limo pulled off.

The fear of getting my head taken off and my hopes and dreams ending in one day. Scary for sure, as I thought it wasn't going to go successful. I waited for several minutes, before picking up the briefcase, as I tried to make it seem as if I was waiting for a bus or whatever. A slight "buff" you could call it.

I finally picked it up, as I went ahead and walked along and off, as I was gladly everything had went smooth. First day of doing this and already, I believed I shit my pants.

Too bad this probably wasn't going to be the end.