My name is Zebediah Quinton Hawkins-Brown. I am 18 years old. I live with my homeboyz and homegirlz in Tacoma, Washington. I have been on my own for three years, since I was fifteen. I ran away from home 'cause I couldn't take any more shit from my family. The gang I hang out with now is my new family. We've gotten to become very close with each other.
I no longer talk to mom or to pops, or to my little brother, Petey, who is 12 (Tiny's age). As far as I'm concerned, they no longer exist: to me, they are already dead.
Maybe it is wrong for me to feel this way, but I always felt hemmed in with my family. Claustrophobic. I had to watch over Petey: y'see, he was special needs; he had Down syndrome and was mentally retarded. He is 12, as I said, but he acted no older than three at the most ... and that was on a good day.
One of the main reasons I run away from home was 'cause I couldn't put up with Petey's idiosyncrasies any longer. He was so dumb, and no matter how many times I tried to work with him, he just couldn't grasp the concept of a lot of things. He drove me bat crazy!
If that wasn't bad enough, I also had to put up with GeeMaw's Alzheimer's. She needed as much care as Petey did, if not, more. I don't know why mom or pops didn't just put her into a home for the elderly; it would have been easy on all of us, especially mom, who was already dealing with a retarded kid.
So now I am on my own. And I have a new family: my homeboyz and my homegirlz. Actually, there's only one girl ("Goth Girl"); she's fairly new to the gang, but I don't know if she is gonna work out 'cause she's one of those Christians, and somehow that goes against what we do. We regularly jack people of their money or whatnot, and we don't find it alarming to roll a few old people around just for kicks. We also like to break into places like Wal*Mart and lift up Ipods, small tvs, and shit. Hey, a guy and his crew gotta have some fun, y'know??
Actually, life is even better since I'm with the gang. Our gang is called J-11, which stands for Juvenile. The 11 says how many is in our gang as of this moment. (I know, I know, it sounds like the title of a country song on the jukebox; cut with the corny jokes already!) We've gottn so close we're just like a family would be.
A lot of the kids in J-11 have had bad backgrounds, but Goth-Girl is not so sure where she belongs. She's more like prey to us because we could do so much to corrupt her (perfect) little mind. Some of us older members are hardcore, meaning we've been gangin' for most of our teenaged lives (or in the case of Tiny, since he was nine). Myself, I had to put up with a retarded little brother and a grandmother who was losing her mind to Alzheimer's. I'd say that is a lot. I also lived in a bad part of town, where drug use, robberies, and violence were the norm just about every night.
In fact, when I was ten, I saw my best friend get mugged by some teenaged thugs and then shot. He died before the ambulance could even get to him. You would think something like that would shake me up bad, but apparently it didn't, 'cause I started hanging out with the bad kids, and now I'm just like them, with a police record a mile long. I've even been in jail three times before I was thirteen (assault and battery).
Issues? I'd say I have issues. Life for me is nothing but a giant fuck-up. And I'm afraid it's only gonna get worse if I don't watch myself, but right now I just don't fuckin' care anymore. I like it better being on my own, with friends who stand by me in what I do. So there you go. That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.
They call me "Venom" because I can get downright mean and nasty. And I'd be the one who would kick an old guy in the balls and don't give a damn. I'm also known for torturing small animals and scaring little kids just for kicks. I'm mean!