Top of My Game

The day I was kidnapped, that’s when I knew...

It all started with a small money making scheme, I’d sell a bit of pot here and there, nothing big, just to mates. I grew the stuff in the attic of a house that me and my mate rented, landlord never came round so I knew I was ok and he was a dodgy fucker anyway. 

I was able to pay my rent and bills, I could pay for food. My minimum wage job hardly left me with anything at the end ofeach month, so with this I could live comfortably. Turns out I was pretty good at it, I knew exactly how to look after the plants and with experience I was getting better and better, some think it’s easy but it takes a lot of tlc to nourish those potent buds. My mates gave me great feedback and were passing it on to their mates and so on, who were in turn putting orders in. 

I needed more plants to meet the demand, I restructured the attic to fit more rows and, well, everything grew from there, literally. I was raking it in, I quit my job, I taught myself about money laundering, my contacts grew, I needed to recruit dealers and cutters. My business was booming, I was renting more properties to grow more weed. I had a team, a responsibility, I was paying people’s wages, providing for my family, all my worries had gone. I began investing in properties, I was laundering moneyinto a sandwich shop I bought as well as a small bakery, no space cakes in that one though, had to keep it legit. 

Then... word spread about my success and low and behold some scum broke into one of my properties and stole my goods, my livelihood, my employee’s livelihood, and they trashed the place. I had inside information on who would do this shit, and for the first time in my life I knew things were serious, I knew of these people and they weren’t... well in a nice way you wouldn’t let them meet your mother. I was told I needed to take charge of the situation, show them who’s boss, and I thought you know what I am fucking boss around here, how dare they, I don’t cross anyone’s turf. I respect my rivals and this is how they repay me, they think I’m an easy target, a pushover. That’s it, fuck it.... let’s go. I got my best crew together, the hardest and maddest guys I had, I knew where to get weapons, we loaded up with pistols, hand guns and an AK47, one guy took a machete - I wasn’t keen on that, didn’t trust myself, I’d probably end up slicing my own hand off. 

So we went round, number 47 Potters Avenue, a house party... great... well that wasn’t going to stop us. We stormed in, tore the party up, scared the shit out of everyone, didn’t hurt anyone until we found our guys. We loaded them into the van, 6 guys we took, made them know who they were dealing with. Obviously they had to act tough laughing, spitting, being dumb fucks. Refused to pay me back so... I shot the fucker... well his right hand man. He lay there motionless, one bullet to the head and that was it, gone in an instant. I’ll never forget the look on their faces, it will be engrained in my memory forever, the look of pure fear, sadness, anger and despair all in one… They lost someone who was obviously important to them and I had to act like I didn’t give two shits because this was my world now. My first kill, I felt physically sick, I had to stop myself from shaking, from showing any emotion. I shocked myself but hey ho the war had begun. We made them take us to their properties with the dead guy riding along with us and we fucked up everything they had, took all the cash we could find, all jewellery they’d stolen, the works. And they had some fancy shit. I was the main guy around and I needed all these fuckers to know it. 

From then I knew I always needed to protect myself, my family, my crew, my business. No fucker was going to take me down. I got smart, before someone got to me I was there first I had eyes and ears everywhere. Everyone wanted to be in my crew and those who didn’t, well it wasn’t going to end well. I’d been fucked over once but never again. I grew and grew, I was relentless and in deep shit with selling drugs, I couldn’t get out now I was the main man, I sold everything and anything, moving one hundred kilos of cocaine and heroin every month. I was an empire, the envy of the streets. I lived a lavish lifestyle, I was charitable, loyal, my guys loved me as a boss, I had their backs and I knew they had mine, no one dare cross me. 

Well... that’s what I thought.... then I was kidnapped and that’s when I knew.... shit got real, I’m not invincible. I thought back to all the guys I’d kidnapped, tortured, traumatised and here I am getting my comeuppance. Within my job I have to act tough, hard exterior, steely persona, cold blooded but inside I was trembling. My heart rate was 137bpm, my fancy watch informed me of this pleasant news, I could feel it protruding through my cavity wall, if I wasn’t going to die by these thugs it would be my heart telling me you’ve fucked it. I always told myself I would never go down without a fight but sometimes you just know when you’re utterly powerless and here my day was, I didn’t stand a chance just had to grin and bear it. Show no emotion that’s all that kept running through my head it was the only thing I had control of, protect my dignity.

Well here I lay surrounded by ten men doing the exact same comradely routine as I have in the past, making me shit my pants. The main guy having me held down by his top men, declaring there’s a new boss in town. Well good luck to him if this is how it ends... the gun loads and silence looms... and now I know... shit got too real.