Intro
Can anyone truly define happiness?
For some it's money, fame, wealth and even love.
For me it's money in my pocket, food on the table, and clothes on my back.
And yet I can never truly be happy, if my 9 brothers go to sleep hungry.
Ivan, Sergei, Bojan, Jan, Tomás, Adem, John, Bruce, and finally Edin, in that order, are the closest thing I have to a family. My family of misfit brothers.
Now you may wonder where our parents are, whilst their children are wallowing away in the depths of extreme poverty, barely scraping by.
They died.
Got shot by a drive-by gone wrong.
They died instantly.
When I was seven.
At least, that's what Edin says. Honestly, I can't remember it.
Anyways, whilst the rich kids in the neighbourhood, showed off their spanking new bikes, my brothers and I learned how to steal, to hunt, to work and to trick.
Until, my eldest brother, Ivan, decided that we all should have an opportunity to be honest men.
One chance or shot, to do whatever we want to be.
So, we packed ALL our belongings in a paper bag, and boarded a ship that was leaving the dock.
You see, we never 'bought' a ticket, so we weren't meant to be there, so we had to hide. We didn't know where we were going, so we all waited anxiously until we reached our destination.
London.
The city of opportunities.
The best decision we ever made.
Until we got chased by police officers after the ship crew realized we weren't meant to be there.
This is my life, and I wouldn't want to change it.
YOU ARE READING
The Con-Artist
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