Welcome To Tulsa...

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The name's Angel Johnson. Don't let the name fool ya. I live in New York city. I love Motorcycles, robbing any store I can, and fights. This is my story.

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I woke up at 6:00 AM to make breakfast for my dad who has work at 6:30. As soon as I went downstairs he started yelling at me. I knew better than to talk back to my dad though. So I was just silent. "You never do anything around here! You're worthless!" My dad yelled in my face. Then he pulled his arm back and hit me as hard as he could. He kept punching me when I decided maybe it was time for me to fight back. I jumped off the ground and punched him in the nose, then in the jaw, then I finished him off with a punch to the temple. My dad was knocked out cold. I had enough of living with my dad. I decided to run away. I got a duffle bag and filled it with my favorite clothes, money, and cigarettes. Then, I wrote a note to my dad saying I had enough. Then I got on my motorcycle and left. 

I was riding my motorcycle to who knows where. A couple hours later, I saw a sign that read "Welcome to Tulsa." I've heard of Tulsa. I decided that this is the place I would stay. Also, because my best friend that lived in New York moved to Tulsa. Her name is Carly, so maybe if I could find her, I could ask if I can stay with her for a couple days until I could afford a house of my own. 

I was riding my motorcycle down the side of town that was filled with greasers. We had greasers in New York, but what we didn't have was Socs. I stopped at a place called the DX, and I went inside the little shop to find a handsome young man. He looked like a moviestar. He took one look at me and said, "You come from New York, don't you?" "Yeah had to get away from the old man. I didn't feel like getting beat up everyday all my life anymore." I said cooly. "I can tell someone was beating on you. What's your name?" the boy asked. "Angel. Angel Johnson. Don't let the name fool ya.' I said winking and blowing out my cigarette smoke. The boy told me his name was Sodapop. a couple seconds later another boy came into the little shop saying, "Soda who's this hot broad?" I smiled, rolled my eyes, and blew out my cigarette smoke. "Angel Johnson." I said. "Soda, who's the tall cocky greaser?" I said smirking. "That's Steve." Soda said laughing. "Hey who's motorcycle is that outside?" Steve asked. "Yeah I was wondering that too. that is one tuff motorcycle." Soda said admiring my motorcycle. "That's  mine." I said while they were still staring out the window. They both looked at me as soon as I said that. "That's YOUR motorcycle?" Steve asked, pointing at me. "Yeah I have had it for years." I said. "I've never seen a girl ride a motorcycle around here before." Steve said quietly. I grabbed the finger he was using to point at me and put it down. "Well, I guess i'll be the first girl you see ride one." And with that, I exited and turned on my motorcycle looking at the boys, who had their mouths wide open, and smiled. 

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