I am going to be blunt here I am dyslexic, my spelling is going to be ropey and my grammar just plain bad but as I only learnt to read at 14 I don’t really care. If you don’t want to read it don’t but if you do don’t tell me at the end to learn to spell. This was more about me writing something for myself than anyone else. Oh and if you read it and I have used the wrong word over and over let me know, I once handed in a project with practical instead of particle every time and it is always nice to know when I go wrong. Regards Rave
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The estate was all I knew, I was born there 12 years ago and I have never spent a night sleeping anywhere else. All I knew was these streets, my schools where all on the estate, most people here didn’t work, most people here never left. My mother had left when I was one, she hadn’t taken me with her, I couldn’t blame her all people here wanted to do was get out few ever did. My dad had stayed, had raised me the best he could and worked 12 hours a day in a dead end job for minimum wage just to keep me in cloths. He did his best but I wasn’t a good kid, no one on the estate was a good kid but I was worse, I don’t remember I time when I wasn’t in trouble.

The Dead Heads where my gang, I had been running with them for more than a year but it was only 3 weeks ago when I rolled the dice, took the beating and became a real member. I was still hurt from it but I didn’t care, it is the price we pay to join up. We ran down the street towards the park.

It was called a park but it was really a muddy bit of ground in the middle of the estate with a tree and a set of swings. The park was favourite battle ground in the current gang fighting on the estate. The Dead Heads where one of the 6 gangs on the estate, we where the smallest but we where hard. We arrived on the east corner are opposition the west, they where called The Hell Boys, they had jumped one of our lads last week and we were here going to settle that debt today. We had 47 lads here they had 58, we had both got about two dozen girls there to watch. The rules where simple, you beat down or drove off all of the other gang to win, I didn’t know what the prize was but it would have been arrange by the bosses beforehand.

The oldest strongest members took the middle of the gang around our boss, big bad Bob or B3 to us. I was closer to the flank on the left, I picked the lad I was going to aim for, and I ran my hand along the scare on my left bicep for luck. It was the first scare I ever got, I was 7 and had court it on the top of a chain link fences, it had bleed so much but since then it had been lucky. I had add many other to it over the year as a daredevil and a thug but it was my first. Most of us still wore our school uniform, as we didn’t have any other cloths, so to tell each gang apart we used face paint. Red spirals covered the right side of my face, the same as the others, these where our marks and I was proud to bear them. The Hell Boys had two black strips going from the corner of each eye to their chin. Their boss was giving some kind of speech, it had been going on for some time, so we waited.

As he finished Bob stepped forward, he wasn’t stupid but he was simple, he said only three words “TIME FOR WARR!!!”

“WARRRRR!!!” came the cry from all our throats and we charged.

The Hell Boys came to meet us. I felt the rush I had been waiting for as my adrenalin spiked the world seemed to slow as it hit my brain and my body moved with a will of its own. My vision began to blur and take on a red tinge, all fear and doubt left me and all I could fell we my rage and battle joy.

I shifted left to get the best angle on my target, he had seen me coming and corrected his own run to meet me. He had maybe a year and a half growth no me but I didn’t care, tonight I was unstoppable and he would fall to me. His first swing was sloppy on high and I took full advantage, I let it glance off my shoulder and moved in close. My right found his exposed rids again and again until I felt something crack and shift under the blow. I stepped back to as he sagged in pain, my upper arms would be a mass of bruise from his return blows but I had won. I move in for the kill driving him to his knees with an elbow to his skull and a second put him on his back. That cost me as I didn’t see the fist coming.

It was fast and hit hard, the pain bloomed in the centre of my face, my vision swam and it took all my will to keep my legs under me. I would not fall! I duck the next fist more by luck than skill. Then the blood from my nose touched my lips. I love the taste of blood it is the taste of violence and it has power, you can drink more than a pint of it before you are sick and your blood is different to the taste of other peoples I have never found out why but it is. The blood brought the world back into focus and I let my pain fill my rage and it felt like I could fly. He had a foot on me, was maybe 16 and looked strong but he was out her on the flanks not in the middle, so there had to be something wrong with him.

I jumped back away from his next swing to give me room more to breath. As he came after me it was plain to see why he was out here fighting me, he held all his weight on his left leg having to almost drag his right along.