Bad Little Dallas

Chapter 21

I slid the black small suitcase along the landing. The suitcase that I brought to New Jersey all those years ago. I placed it on the floor of my bedroom and unzipped it as slowly as I could.

When we came back to my house Nash immediately told me to start packing and me being to overwhelmed to argue I obeyed.

There was nothing in the suitcase. Just the pieces of cloth that wrapped around the walls of it. The last time I hauled this suitcase around was when I got kicked out by her. And now almost three years later she wants me back? If it was my choice I'd start running. I mean, I've been running ever since these lot showed up a few days ago. But then again. I'm tired of running. I've lost the will to fight. I've lost the fight completely.

I stood up and went over to pack the clothes I had. Shoes wouldn't be a problem because at the moment I only had one pair, and I had them on right now. As I continued to pack I started to get lost in my own mind which I tend to do a lot now.

If I leave, it'll be just like when I lived with them before. Pure torture.
But If I stay here I'll still be in fights, doing things I shouldn't be doing at my age and destroying my life. Pure torture.

This is a lose lose situation. Even though this new lifestyle has grown on me. Its still a nightmare to live here. Everyone here can only think about drugs, sex, gang fighting and killing each other. Everyone here goes down the same bad route and I don't want to follow them.

My draws were emptied out into my suitcase. I went into the bathroom to get whatever I wanted to take. Which was my basically my toothbrush but I'm going to pack that in the morning.

As I walked back into my room I heard the boys setting out their 'beds' and talking about what they're going to do once we get into the Golden State.

They sounded so excited. Well all except Cameron who was talking about leaving me here and letting me die and all that positivity that always comes out of his mouth.

Can I just take a moment to say how fucked up me and Cameron's relationship is! He's threatened to kill me and we beat each other up to the point one of us could've ended in hospital. He's basically the reason for me being shipped here. But occasionally I see him looking at me almost like he was sorry.

To think all this started because of the fight.

I blinked a few times trying not to go deeper in thought and carried on walking to my room. I wasn't ready to re-live that day. I never will.

I wasn't going to bring the empty cans of spray paint or bottles with me because 1) that's stupid and 2) I only needed them incase someone broke in and 3) they were honestly the only musical entertainment I had in here.

I sat on my bed and looked around. The graffiti wall I practiced spraying on. The knife lines on the door from my first training knife. The holes in the wall from when I was learning how to box and accidentally hit to hard. Even though this place doesn't look appealing to the human eye Its still full of memories. Not necessarily good ones but ones that made me the person I am today.

I scanned around the room to see the half hanging poster that was supposed to cover the hole in the wall where I hid years worth of stuff.

Without thinking I ripped of the bits of poster that remained on the wall and stared at the gaping whole. I took a long step back to grab a wooden baseball bat that I always had in my room and hit the tip of it against the wall under the hole.

Bits of the old concrete fell onto the floor making a slightly longer hole. I looked away and closed my eyes them forcefully hit harder. I felt bits of rubble scratch against my lower leg then bounce onto the floor and I heard a heavy things tumble across the hard floor.