What I Want, When I Want

CHAPTER 8. *now 18 years old*

Now, with me being born and raised in Brooklyn and seeing half the shit I've seen in my life, I was tough. I'll admit I was a huge punk when I was younger, but as I've grown up, I learned not to let anybody mess with me. I've witnessed kids getting hit by trucks, gun shots, and I've even got a few battle scars myself.

•FLASHBACK•

I was 12 years old sitting on my porch with Callista. This one girl and her "crew" always feel the need to come up to me and say something smart. She knew my father had been getting into trouble and knows that I don't like when people talk about my family, yet she still decided to pop lip.

"Aww, Nikki. How come you guys aren't chilling with your dad? Did he get locked up again..? What was it this time?"

I rarely ever addressed her by name because she wasn't a person to me.

"You know what, don't even start. You know good and well that my after is away on business trying to make money unlike yours." Who was she to talk..? Yes my dad got in trouble, but he provided for his family. Her parents, well her father just roamed the streets selling drugs. Apparently his "business" wasn't doing so well because out of all the other dealers who made at least $1000 a week, he was bringing home a mere $50. Her mom then had to go out and get a job and wound up working with my mother.

"Woah, woah. Watch that tone, boo. Don't boss up because your friend is here." She remarked looking back and forth at me and Callista.

"No, you watch the tone." Callista backfired. "That's all you do is talk about peoples' families when yours is no better." Now I know what you're thinking. Yes we were young, but we certainly weren't stupid. Nobody was about to sit here and take shit from just anybody.

"Aww, Callista. You don't have to protect her dead-beat dad." That was the last straw. Never in my life have I pounced on something so fast. (besides Santo of course *wink wink*) She didn't even know what was coming. I was on top of her, punching, screaming, pounding her. The crew was in shock but they didn't stop me. (I've always believed her girls didn't really like her.) I lost my grip and then she wound up on top of me. She was nothing more that a hair-puller and a slapper.

"Bitch.. who do.. you..think..you..are?!" She yelled in between tugs. After this, I was back on top.

Continuously slamming her head against the ground, I replied, "You.. should know..not..to talk about family.!" Callista finally pulled me off her.

"Alright, alright." she said. "Enough!"

I got one last slap in and broke a beer bottle against her before she fell out. Unconscious. Her friends then had to carry her away. I could've sworn one of them even winked at me and mouthed the words "good job" to me. She was dragged away all bruised and bloody, I left with nothing but a few bruises and scratches from the glass. Oh, but don't worry, I didn't kill her.

•FLASHBACK ENDS•

I still don't feel bad for that day. She got what she deserved. Never talk about someone when they're not there to defend themselves.