Terry Hamilton

Professor Agee
WRT 1000/1150
25 July 2014
Did you know there have been more African American men, in college than in prison
since 2002? What made some of these men pursue a college career? What steered the others
down the course of destruction? Right or wrong decisions, something like precision collisions.
What if I made the wrong decision that dreadful day? Had I taken that mans life, the rest of my
days would have been spent in a penitentiary. Nothing but a statistic, blight amongst the black
community. Always be conscientious about those who you associate with. For they can cause
you great injustice if you allow them to sway your morals.
It all started off as a pulchritudinous day. The sun was gleaming, what seemed to be rays
of joy. It was comfort for those who could not find peace, love, or happiness elsewhere.
Accommodated by the sun, a welcoming breeze flowing throughout the air, I stood on the
decrepit porch of my wooden house that could hardly stand, and basked in the aesthetic beauty.
My friend Victor rode by on his stolen black and chrome Trek Bike. Anyone with an
unpretentious brain could tell the bike was stolen, due to the spray paint peeling off all over it.
Victor was well known throughout the neighborhood to be affiliated with gangs. This did not
bother me as much as it did others. He was my only friend, I had known him since the third
grade at Poupard elementary school, and thats all that mattered to me. As he approached my
porch, I noticed he had a switch blade in his left pocket, and a black, Smith and Wesson nine
millimeter pistol with a suppressor, tucked askew in the waist line of his denim jeans. When I
saw those weapons, I immediately became aroused. I did not know what to do if he asked me to

come with him. He approached and we performed a silly, friendly handshake. Then he asked me
a question to which I wish I had said no. He asked me to go on a ride with him.
I rolled through Southwest Detroit on the rear pegs of his bike. I saw him make drugs
transactions, assault people, and extort individuals. On this day, the night approached like a bolt
of greased lightning, splitting the air, fresh from the sky. It was very dark and it was almost
11:30 pm. I told him I needed to go home. He said he had one more stop to make then he would
take me home. It was an uncanny ride to this location that is incognito. As we pulled up to a
prehistoric looking house, Victor told me that if I helped him pull this off, I would be blessed
into his organization, the notorious Folk gang.
I never had a supporting family. I was always alone and lonely. I was a one man army,
but even for those who are accustomed to being alone, the lonely road can get wearisome.
Joining this gang was very appealing to me, so I reluctantly agreed. I kicked down the door to the
house, and Victor entered with his gun drawn. Wielding Victors switch blade, I rushed in behind
him. The blade was heavy and cold. It was as if I had no skin on my hand, and the blade was
touching my nerves directly with the precision of a master marksman. With every breath I drew,
an electrifying jolt shot through my body, like crackling lightning through the sky. Victor held
the gun to the head of the man that was in the house. Victor demanded the money, as if it were
no random robbery. The man was shaking on his knees, pleading for his life. The chatter of his
teeth and the stutter of his words as he begged for his life, still ring in my ears today. With tears
spewing from his lacrimal gland, down to the side of his charcoal stained face, into the depths of
his shaggy beard, he proclaimed he had no money. Victor, more furious than Hades losing to
Zeus, pistol whipped the man several times. Blood projected from his cranium, as he fell to the

ground beaten and bruised. Victor thought the man was lying; however the truthfulness in his
voice struck my soul.
Even with the tenacious adrenaline surging through my veins, the frigid breeze was
perpetuating; freezing me indefinitely. What once were warm beads of sweat rolling down my
epidermis became miniature glaciers scratching on my skin. Out of my peripheral vision, there
was a miniature, gas powered generator, set awry amongst a piece of wood. Plugged into the
device were several lamps, meaning the house had no electrical input. As my thoughts were
running amok, Victor shoved the gun in my chest. It was as if I were hit by a wrecking ball. With
a voice that could put Satans to shame, he whispered for me to take the strap and kill the man.
By strap I could tell he meant the gun. All the muscles in my body seemed to cringe at once. I
did not want to carry out this act of evil; however my body no longer belonged to me. Almost as
if I were possessed, my hand slowly but surely grasped the pistol. Victor went to look for any
valuables he could find. Slowly I approached the man, gripping the gun like gangsters do in
movies, sideways. The gun was unfathomably heavy, a 100lb weight in my hand. I directed the
gun at the mans head, intent to kill. I was more terror-stricken than I had ever been in my
existence.
There is an old saying, that the eyes are the window to the soul. I for one know this to be
the truth in its entirety. I looked this man in his eyes and tears began to protrude from my own. I
looked into the depths of his soul and saw the sadness, even the hatred. However, I saw
something far worse than that. Out of the reflection of his iris, I saw myself, a demon. My ears
began to ring as my brain imploded. My vision now blurry, I began to stumble backwards then
fell to the floor. Slowly I raised my head, only to see the man had passed out. Victor emerged
from a room to the left holding a box. He tossed the box to the ground and a gold necklace with

the word grace engraved on it emerged. The box also contained a few dollars. He walked over to
the unconscious man, and with a blunt kick, struck him in his ribs. That was the final thread
attaching me to sanity, and he broke it!
An rage encompassed my body. All I could see was red. Why did this day turn out like it
did? That is what was ringing through my head. How could I atone for my atrocious sins? I stood
to my feet and told Victor to leave behind the money he stole through the day and make himself
scarce. He laughed an evil laugh and refused, as I had expected his resistance. I had only one
option left, to kill him! I dropped the gun, stood to my feet, and formed fists. Fists so tight that
they would not unbind until I had completely destroyed the demon that stood before me. He
began to laugh and mock me as he readied for the fight.
My first punched grazed Victors chin. He underestimated my speed and realized too late
it was a feint. The second punch, ten times stronger than the first, landed square on his
diaphragm knocking all the wind out of him, and sending him flying backwards. It seemed he
underestimated my raw destructive power as well. It was a flat out powerful shot, yet somehow
he did not fall. He regained his posture, stood up straight, eyes bulging with fury, and started his
counter attack on me. For a split second I thought I had dealt him no damage. Then I began to
see the quivers in his face with each step he took towards me. With an incredible step, he
launched at me, ready to fire at me with his left, but he was still too slow. I ducked under his
lethargic punch and countered with the Hanuman Thawai Waen, also known as the pair of
uppercuts. Click! The sound of Victors upper row of teeth making unplanned contact with the
bottom row. This sent him a few feet off the ground. Before he knew what was happening I was
preparing the final attack. He came back down within range of my jajenken, commonly referred
to as focused punch.

I aimed the punch into his chest but due to my blurred vision I missed. This gave him the
perfect opportunity to counter and he countered well. With a flurry of punches he started at me. I
dodged as many as I could but I could not evade them all. With two solid punches to my jaw and
one to my nose, he sent me to the ground. I could smell and taste the iron and salt in my blood
that dripped from my nose. With a loud roar my rage became omnipotent. I quickly stood to my
feet as he attempted to rush me. With a quick side step around his sloppy punch, I was now
behind him. The shock in his voice due to how skilled I was made me smile. I grabbed him like
the Jaws of Life around his waist. With the final attack, I lifted him in the air, and reverse body
slammed him. The crackling of his shattered back pleased me. I even heard the sound of his
breaking ribs. He laid on the ground, blood coming from his mouth and his belly. The broken
bones pierced his belly as he approached death. The sound and sight of him chocking on his
blood made me smile. With a four finger chop, I crushed his wind pipe. I stared at his soon to be
corpse and began to laugh.
I was not in my right mind. The man that passed out regained consciences. I looted
Victors corpse for the money he had stolen throughout the day, and gave it to the weathered
man. There was awe on his face. I could only deduce that he thought himself dead or
approaching it. I calmly apologized to the man for my actions, though I knew it was not enough.
My brain was racing trying to find the ultimate solution for what I had done. I picked up the gun
the laid on the floor, and walked outside. I stood on the porch for only a few minutes, however it
seemed a lifetime.
I stood on the porch as the chilled breeze calmed me, for I had reached the solution. The
ultimate retribution for what I had done I thought was my own death. I smiled at as the thought
registered in my head. At the time I thought it was the perfect way to end this nightmare.

Looking back I realize how short sighted I was. With one final breath, I closed my eyes, directed
the gun at my head, and pulled the trigger. I could hear the hammer hit the bullet, but nothing
happened. I pulled the trigger again and again and the result did not differ. I took the gun apart
only to realize the Victor put the wrong ammunition into it. At that point I began to laugh
hysterically. My breath curtailed and my body suddenly became cumbersome. My vision began
to blur and I blacked out.
I awoke the next day in my bed. I assumed I had walked home and somehow snuck in. At
first I didnt remember much, but eventually my recollection came to. Excruciating pain was
sending signals to my brain. I looked down at my right hand, and it was almost completely
shattered. I felt drained of all my energy. I grabbed the remote control to the TV in front of me
and turned it on. The first thing to flash on the screen was breaking news. Murderer connected
to over 30 murders found dead in what appears to be a deserted house. At this point I had
regretted everything I had done, however the experience provided me with just that, experience.
My resolve was stronger now. I had gained a sense of self worth. I would never fall to that level
ever again. My mental fortitude had reached its maximum potential. From that point on, I would
always be mindful of who I associate with. Moreover, I would never let anybody sway my
judgment. Out of that experience I had become stronger than I ever was.