In Love With The Killer Inside

Prologue

Lawrence 'Glock' Brewster Jr.

To know who I am, you'll have to learn where I've come from. I grew up in Brownsville, New York. Brownsville is by far the most dangerous cities in New, York. From death to drugs and gangs, and I was always mixed in some shit. At a young age I earned the name Glock. What you may say is sad, I would say its survival. If you wasn't in a gang, slanging dope, or robbing, you was dead. And at just 11 years old I was doing all three. I can't even count how many times I've been arrested. Being young you get locked in juvenile detention but once you hit 18 you tried as an adult. I was doing so much dumb shit, they just stop fucking with me.

Growing up I never knew my pops, still don't and honestly could careless in knowing who the motherfucker was. I always heard around the neighborhood, he was a old head that got killed by a rival gang. My mom ain't never speak about him unless she was yelling about how 'ain't shit I was gonna grow up to be', just like my old man. Moms had this weird way of making me feel loved and hated all at the same time. She was a drug addict, hooked on that white shit real bad. She was so fucked up sometimes that when I was curious about what it was she was always sniffing up her nose, she let me get a hit. I was 12 when I got my first taste. Usually young niggas from the neighborhood would start out smoking weed with they homies. But not me, I was sniffing the white mans drug up my with my own momma. Shit damn near killed me. I went to school high so many times, and I could hardly function, so I just stopped caring. The teachers didn't give a fuck no way, they most likely thought I was high off some marijuana.

At age 13 I got approached by a gang that I was stupid enough to join. After that life got even more crazy. I was getting in more and more trouble but I didn't care. I felt like nobody gave a fuck about me, not the people that was supposed to anyway. My mom only cared about the drugs that was slowly killing her and who knows what my sperm donor cared about, but it clearly wasn't staying alive long enough to know me. So I gave up on myself.

I didn't trust many people either, still don't. The only people I ever considered family were my homies Fab, Wave and Santi. Those were my dawgs for life. Prinston 'Fab' Jones was who I considered blood family even though he wasn't. We fought so much that we just eventually became cool because we was so much alike. I've never seen that nigga smile since I've known him, he was always serious and about his business. That's why he wasn't only just a friend but he was my right hand man. Helping me out when ever my moms kicked me out so I'd sleep on his couch, his family became mine and I'd forever be grateful.

Then there was Andre 'Wave' Rodgers. He's the goofy nigga out of the group. He's always cracking jokes but he got serious when he wanted to. Especially when it came to his money. So he got the title of my 2nd hand. Fab and I met him when he moved in the neighborhood. One word I would use to describe him is loyal.

And last but not least is Santi. When I met Santi it was when I turned 18. I had moved into my own one bedroom apartment in East Harlem. He was playing ball in the court across the street and I joined in on the game. Santi's different from us though. He a good dude. He had a good head on his shoulders and actually going places with the basketball shit. When we did our dirt we never let him tag along cause I knew when it was me, Fab and Wave together. We were bond to get in some shit.

Now at 18 year of age I was doing what ever was necessary to get my paper up. If there was a robbery going down, it was me. If there was a murder on the news, I did it. I was lethal. The last lick I made was the biggest change in my life. I took out Santana. Santana was a known drug lord in Harlem. He was who supplied all the drugs we sold. But he had a mark on his head. Whoever took him out was to inherit the thrown.

But the funny thing about that is, once your seating in the seat of the man you've taken out. You got niggas coming from everywhere to get to you.

In the same year I met a girl. Myahni. She was so beautiful inside and out. I didn't know then what I had. So I screwed up, more times than I can count. For a year we dated and it was the best year of my life so I did something crazy. I asked her to marry me. A nigga that didn't even know what love was or how to give asked somebody to marry him. I knew it was stupid, but I did anyway. So we waited until she was 18 and we eloped. I was 21 years young, married to a 18 year old. When I used to say the shit out loud, I felt so stupid and felt stuck. So I did what every dumb niggas do and I cheated, more than once. I went as far as getting a one night stand pregnant.

Chanel Brewster.

My baby girl was born from a woman that wasn't my wife. A woman I knew nothing about. All the cheating and the baby mama, I hid from Myahni. It wasn't because I didn't want to hurt her it was because I was scared that she would leave. I didn't want any other man to have her. Months after Chanel was born I was arrested.

Voluntary Manslaughter. That's what they charged me with. So they gave me a minimum of 10 years.

In one year I had turned 21, got married, cheated, and had kid, then put in prison.

I've spent nine of years behind bars. I've had so much time to myself to think. I miss my wife, I miss my daughter, and I miss my freedom. I'm coming out with the chance to right my wrongs. But I'm scared of the person that has always been trapped inside me.