Brooklyn, NY
"Yajel! Vamos pequeña (lets go little one)!", King yelled up the stairs. His younger sister Yajel, was busy looking out of her window reminiscing on all the memories of her hometown, both good and bad. Her mother and father were shot not to far from their front door, then her grandfather arrested for said murder two blocks down. It was the end of an era for their family.
Brooklyn has always been home to them, but King decided they should move to California. He thought it would be better for Yajel. King had been visiting a town called Freeridge multiple times this year and finally decided today was the day they would live new lives across the country.
"Llegada (coming)!", she grabs her small book bag and rushes down the flight of stairs to meet her busy brother. As always he had a phone to his ear and was speaking in a hushed tone.
Yajel didn't ask how the gang was she knew what he did and why he did it. The amount of blood she and King had collectively on their hands was enough to keep conversation between the two of them short.
In spite of the family trait of violence King and Yajel were thick as thieves. Before they joined the New York Santos they were normal kids, their parents wanted them to grow up and get a regular education and become normal adults.
Now, Yajel didn't speak of the hundreds of men who King made disappear with the wave of a hand and King didn't ask about the bruises and cuts Yajel came home with after her long days recruiting for the Santos. They went about their business keeping two fully stocked guns on them at all times, "could never be to careful".
"We have a long ride ahead of us rest up kid", he ruffled her hair and she grabbed a blanket getting comfortable in the passenger seat.
YOU ARE READING
shots - spooky
FanfictionWarm sun was something Yajel never knew she wanted. New York was cold and cramped it's what she was used to, it was what she expected. From the weather, from people, from her family. But California was different, new friends, new life and new troubl...
