Hoodlum Tragedies (Old Version)

T H E S U N R I S E S

There wasn't a thing called sleep in the Shepard home. Whether it was Tim and Angela going at it because of her clothing choice and where had she been all night or Ma and her boyfriend engaging in a contest over who could scream the loudest. Getting sleep passed 8:00 a.m. was pretty much nonexistent.

Curly attempted to block out the sound by pulling his heavy blanket over his head but the screams still triumphed and disturbed his sleep.

He groaned and threw the old blanket off of him. He always thought the blanket was older than him, when he was a kid and his step dad would be beating him, he'd hold the blanket and come up with a story behind it. His favorite was that his Abuela made it for him as a baby out of love. However, that was far from being true, especially because his Abuela had killed herself before he was even born.

Curly staggered to his dresser and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a white t shirt. His outfits seemed to be repeats of the previous day, but that was to be expected when you didn't have a lot of money. At least his shirts were cleaned and bleached weekly. Laundry was the only thing Curly considered himself to be good at when it came to domestics.

He felt like shit. He was up late the previous night joking and hanging with Los Tio's. The night started young, discussing what the next move was for the Shepard Gang but quickly progressed to other events, like drinking beer after beer. Curly had to remind himself not to drink on weekdays.

Curly threw his jeans on over his boxers and then the clean white t shirt, adding his socks and sliding into a new pair of Chuck Taylor's. He had lifted them from a shopping complex a few days before, thinking about it seemed to boost his mood.

He washed his face and brushed his teeth before passing Angela in the kitchen. She sat quietly drinking a glass of water, her eyes following him around the kitchen.

Curly was close with Angela, they ought to be because they were twins. It was something not a lot of people knew, despite the fact that they looked alike, they always assumed Curly was younger.

"The stash is under Tims bed." Angela says to Curly.

Tim brought separate food for his siblings and his them under his bed so his drunk mother couldn't get her hands on it. The hag didn't have a job but she'd be quick to take something that wasn't hers.

Curly didn't reply. Instead he grabbed his old leather jacket and threw it on his shoulders, then lit a cigarette and walking over towards the door.

"Well good morning to you too, pendejo." Angela growled.

That was terms of affection for a Shepard. He didn't mind it much, he knew that they'd probably go to a party together before the week was out, forgetting the fact that they almost killed each other. That's just how they were.

Curly walked out into the morning streets of Tulsa. A lot of teenagers were up because like Curly, they had similar situations with arguing parents.

"Hey! Ese, C'mere!"

Curly took a slow puff on his cigarette as he saw Jimmy jogging towards him. Jimmy had been his best friend, ever since Curly started elementary school, he was about two years older than Curly so they got initiated around the same time.

Jimmy Russo was cool, sly, and a loyal follower. He had the best home life out of them all, but only because he was the only child. He was raised by his mother and occasionally saw his father in New York. His mother was a hardworking waitress at a neighborhood on the west side and his father was a failed cowboy who moved to New York.

"What's hanging, Jim?" Curly asked once he caught up with him.

"Nothing, cooling, man. Wanna get something to eat down at the juke? I'm starving." Jimmy complained while rubbing his stomach.