Torn

Prologue

"I'm a warrior on these streets, and I stand hood rich. Keep screwing with me Jordan and I'll make you my bitch!"

My name is Katrina Marie Cena and this story begins on the morning of January 13, 2003. It's about three weeks before my 16th birthday, and up until now I had experienced a pretty normal teenaged life. I went through my first year of high school, I dated two guys who turned out to be jerks, and I spent most of my time cheerleading and doing homework. I had big plans for my life…big plans that I ended up having to put on the back burner thanks to my uncle and his lack of respect he had for others.

I had been living with him now since I was 9. His sister, my mom, was in rehab for a serious heroin addiction. She ended up dying just before I turned 10 and my father committed suicide from the guilt of putting her in there. I wasn't able to understand it then…but as I got older, things made more sense. Although my uncle tended to step on my toes every now and then, I loved him and had the upmost respect for him. We got along pretty well but lately he had been stepping on the toes of the wrong people…

"John!" I yelled from my bedroom. "Could you keep it down? I'm trying to study!"

He shut off his self-made beats and looked out of his studio at me. Rapping was something he picked up off the streets and was something he wanted to do whenever he got better at it. Often he would go to different clubs and involve himself in rap battles. It didn't start out so good at first but after a few tries and a couple tips from his buddies, he started creaming the competition. He was bringing in anywhere from $300 to $600 a night and that's what he used to put food on the table and to keep me happy. I thought it was a dangerous thing to do honestly but he kept coming home every night.

"I thought you enjoyed listening to my rapping?" he asked.

I sighed, "I do, but right now I'm trying to study for a very important exam tomorrow and I really need silence."

"Oh, sorry Kat…" he told me.

"It's ok….whose Jordan anyway?" I asked remembering his lyrics.

He sat down his headphones and walked down towards me. "He's this biker guy that I defeated fairly in a rap battle last week."

I folded my arms and leaned against the doorframe, "John you battled a biker guy? Since when did they rap?"

"You know, I asked the exact same question but I beat him anyway." he told me. "I guess he's been running his mouth lately about how he wants a rematch with the champ."

I shook my head and grabbed his chin. "So full of yourself aren't you?"

"How can't I be with this face, these muscles, and of course perfect technique?" He said. "You should be honored to be around a man like me."

"I don't know how I deal with you." I said before turning around and going into my bedroom.

He followed me with a laugh, "That's easy you keep supporting me in what I do and one day I'm going to blow up."

I chuckled, "Oh you'll blow up alright if you keep screwing with those biker guys. They are dangerous you know."

"No no no," he said as he sat down on my bed. "They act like they're dangerous but trust me it's all a rouse. None of them could face me one on one without their cronies there to back them up."

I sighed, "Oh please, there's always going to be one who can beat you at your own game. Wasn't it you that told me that once?"

"Yes, but I only meant that for your situation at the time." He said as he flexed his muscles in my mirror.

I laughed, "Ok Uncle John."

"I'm serious Kat. Don't you worry about your uncle John….I can handle myself."

I believed him alright at least…I did at first. My uncle had a way of making me believe him even when the odds were stacked against him. One time we came close to having our electric and water shut off and somehow he came up with the money to keep it from happening. I never questioned it…I never questioned anything he did. However, I found out one day that I would have to begin questioning what he did….especially when it put me in danger.