Story of a Street Fighter

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I was six years old. It was summer, June I believe. My parents left for a few days on a romantic vacation.

They had a neighbor babysit and take care of me. It was nice I suppose. We played games and watched movies, something any kid would be overjoyed to do.

Fun, right?

The day my parents were supposed to come home, they didn't. They never came back...

They died in a car accident.

Just what a six year old needed.

I had to move in with my uncle. His job paid well and supported the both of us. That was lucky, but that fact I had to leave everything I knew was far from it.

New home. New city. New school. New everything.

I soon managed to make a few friends. It was a good area to live in, or so I thought.

For my fifteenth birthday I saved enough money from a part time job to buy a motorcycle. That happiness only lasted a few months though; my uncle lost his job.

His car was already paid off, but my bike wasn't. From then on, half of my paycheck went towards my motorcycle payment and the other to our bills. That was nothing to complain about. And my motorcycle got relatively good gas mileage therefore I rode it everywhere. I didn't really mind.

But misfortune struck again when I was laid off from my job and had to sell my bike.

That day began a much larger mess.

I was walking home from the motorcycle store I sold my bike to, when I heard strange sounds depicting fighting, along with a small cheering crowd.

I slowed down, noticing it all came from an abandoned apartment building. Very carefully, I crept up near the entrance.

The door was already cracked open. Curiosity hit me as I inched closer. Thankfully the door didn't make much noise when I opened it.

All the doors leading into the apartments were closed. The shouts I had gotten louder as I approached.

Hiding, I could see a crowd gathered in what was once a lobby. Suddenly an arm wrapped around my throat and dragged me back.

"Well, well, look who I found!" the man holding me shouted, covering my mouth and nose with a cloth.

A few men turned, smirking at me. "New fighter," another sneered. He looked me up and down as I struggled.

Soon I had to inhale, instantly feeling weaker and tired. Shit.

I went limp in the man's arms, blacking out.