“I better be heading off to Drew’s house,” I tell Jerrod as he pulls out a blunt lighting it. I stand up, as he swallows in the toxin that I’ve come to love, holding it in his mouth then letting out rings of smoke.
“So soon, babe?” He asks and I nod. No, Jerrod wasn’t my boyfriend, he’s my best friend. But hey, he calls me babe, whatever.
“Yeah, he wants me there for a restocking,” I explain and he nods, handing me the blunt. I take it from his hand, placing it to my lips. I light it and take in a deep breath, inhaling the smoke and holding it in my mouth increasing my high. My eyes begin to water when I pull the blunt away handing it back. After 4 years, and my eyes still water from it, I start coughing.
“See you later,” I grab my black hoodie off the back of the couch and shrug it on. Then fix my beanie and pull my hood over it. It does look slightly suspicious, but everyone insists that this is what we must do. Why, I have no idea.
“Bring me back some K2,” he says as I open the door stepping into the cool Bradford air. K2 is technically a synthetic drug which mimics pot, but it gives you a better high and Jerrod seems to prefer that over the other stuff. Drew doesn’t live far from Jerrod so every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday I walk from Jerrod’s to Drew’s to restock on our drug supply.
Drew isn’t exactly the ‘head master’ of the gang; he handles the drug side of it. Jerrod looks over all of it, but there is a guy above him, only Jerrod has ever seen him or met him, and we only know his name, Zayn Malik, mostly called Malik. Jerrod has described him to me as a tall guy, with black hair that’s pushed into a quiff. That’s all I really know about him, oh and he has a lot of tattoos, Jerrod never talks about him. Literally almost never.
I don’t even bother knocking when I arrive at Drew’s house. I push the door open and get welcomed by different smells, alcohol and various drugs.
“Dree!!” Drew yells as I walk in the room. I laugh and hug him. He then grabs my hand leading me to the back room.
“So here’s what we got for this week, Malik shipped it to us yesterday, he sent extra though.” He sighs. The last time Malik sent us extra we of course finished it off, but then Jerrod got a call from Malik saying that he needed the extras back and well we obviously didn’t have any left. So we had to pull it out of our paychecks to pay him back.
“How much extra?” I ask staring at the book shelves that block the windows so nobody can see into our drug room
“3 bags of K2; 3 bags of K4; 1 bag of coke and 2 bags of pot,” he sighs, staring at the neatly organized book shelves.
“So what do you want me to take?” I ask grabbing a bag of K2 for Jerrod and handing him money for the bag.
“Just take your usual and then call J and ask if he’ll call Malik to see what to do with the rest,” he says rubbing the back of his head and walking out of the room. I scan the bookshelves, grabbing the amount I need that will make me for the next day. You’d be surprised how much I sell in a day. Well, you shouldn’t cause, honestly Jerrod and I practically run the drug situation of Bradford. If anyone needs their drugs they come to us. My gang, The Ringla’s are really well known in Bradford. We’re the people that make parents want to hide their kids inside. Everyone knows who we are, but everyone is too scared to turn us in.
I shove the drugs in my bag and walk out of the room setting my bag by the door where I always set it.
“Mikeeyyy!!” I yell running towards him. Michael has been practically my little brother since he got initiated. He’s a two years younger than me, making him 16, and he’s the coolest little kid I know. He’s the youngest we’ve ever allowed in the Ringla’s but it was totally worth it during the initiation.
“We have someone who wants to be initiated today, his name is Michael Stinson. He’s 15 and if he passes this then he’s the youngest we’ve ever allowed in the Ringla’s,” Jerrod explains. A young kid walks in the door, baggy black sweatshirt hanging off his small frame with dark jeans and black DC shoes to match.
“This one will be easy,” Drew mumbles from beside me. I laugh. We have two ways of being initiated, one is a beat in. This is pretty self-explanatory, and then there’s sexed in, which is also pretty self-explanatory. That’s what I got because nobody had the guts to beat me in.
We walk around the small kid, someone pushes him down and the 7 of us kick, punch and beat the crap out of him for 30 minutes. We kicked harder than we ever have before and he didn’t shed a tear, a few groans and moans of pain but no tears and that’s when we knew he was trust worthy
“Hey Dree,” he smiles hugging me I hug him tightly and then let go keeping my arm around his shoulder.
“Did you already get your supply?” I ask him and he shakes his head. I lead him into the back room and he pulls his bag off of his back and I start handing him the small supply he gets since he’s young and doesn’t have as many clients as older people in the group such as me, Jerrod, Drew and Smith.
Smith I don’t talk to as much. He’s the only one who goes by his last name because his first name is Andrew and having Andy and Drew would be too confusing for a bunch of people who are high or drunk half the time.
“Take care of this, its good shit,” I tell him and he smirks
“Of course, Dree,” he says and turns to head out of the door when sirens go off. Those aren’t ambulance sirens, they’re police sirens.
The cops are here.
(A/N)
Hey guys! I hope you liked this first chapter of my new book! I've never written a dark fanfic and I've been dying to for a while so here it is!
This was just the starting chapter so I hope it's good? I don't know, I think it was good let me know what you guys think! Comment below what you like/didn't like etc.
I love you guys!:) xx <3
xx _DatWriterChick xx
