The JSB Story
Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2006 5:22 pm
"Come here you little wimp! Come on!"
Some guy named Brutus, age 16 was doing his everyday torture on the new kid who moved onto Jones Street. Jeff Sears, age 9, was just moving in a few days earlier, and 'Brutus' added this to his daily routine. Brutus would knock over little Jeff, punch him, kick him, spit on him, and even steal anything he had on him at the time. Brutus was beating him up for the eighth day in a row now, until John Sears, age 18 came out. Brutus got up to flea when John ran over and grabbed his shaggy hair. John pulled him back and punched him in the back of the head. Brutus fell, as John wound up and kicked him in the face. Brutus, laying on the ground, began to scream. Blood was pouring down his face, turning his white teeth red. He was laying in an odd position, just laying, screaming. John helped up Jeff and helped him into the house.
*****
Jeff was sitting on the couch with a band-aid on his forehead, arms, and legs. He was just sitting quietly, wondering why his brother hit the guy so much. At this age he felt sorry for Brutus, he didn't know who bad and good people were. He just sat, with a sad look over his face. John came into the room.
John: I don't want you going outside ever again without protection okay? That guy out there, he is from a gang. Gangs are not good, and they might hurt you.
Jeff smiled and nodded. John look outside. He saw Brutus laying on the road, when a few more guys ran over to help him up. They were all wearing black sleeveless shirts, with white trim. These shirts, would forever be the target of John Sears. John punched the wall, angry, full of hate. He walked outside with a baseball bat in his right hand, a crowbar in his left. The three men approached him.
Brutus: Your dead man. You don't start with the Saracens and get away with it!
John gets a cocky grin on his face and nods. Then, in one motion, throws the bat into one guy's head, so hard he fell unconious, and a crowbar at the other, sticking into his eye socket, letting him fall, screaming, blood pouring down his face, leaving Brutus still standing by himself. John grabbed him and pulled him into the house, as he locked the doors, put things against them, and put things in front of the windows. John sat him on the floor in the living room.
John: I'm dead am I? I'M DEAD!?
John kicks him in the side of the head.
John: You guys call yourselves The Saracens eh? Well wait 'til you meet the Jones Street Boys!
Brutus: The Jones Street-
John kicked him in the head, and put his foot on his neck. Brutus lost his breath, and made a few gurgling noises before dying. John turned around to see Jeff, watching in amazment. His young fragile mind, would never be the same again.
*****
Eight years later. Jones Street Boys turf.
John was sitting with Jeff, along with many other guys. They were all just hanging around the street.
Jeff: Look! John!
John: What the-
The Saracens. About 35. All charging into the street. John jumped up, along with Jeff, and about 20 other Jone Street Boys. They all charged back, this turning more into a war than a street gang fight. John was swinging his fists around, back and fourth. Clubbing, and swatting, and hitting, for a long period of time. The Jones Street Boys were soming out on top, when Jeff, age 17 now, got tackled by three Saracens. They got on top of Jeff, pounding away. This took John off his focus, letting a Saracen take him down. He quickly and easily took care of the Saracen, and the war was done. Everyone was finished. But where was Jeff?
Some guy named Brutus, age 16 was doing his everyday torture on the new kid who moved onto Jones Street. Jeff Sears, age 9, was just moving in a few days earlier, and 'Brutus' added this to his daily routine. Brutus would knock over little Jeff, punch him, kick him, spit on him, and even steal anything he had on him at the time. Brutus was beating him up for the eighth day in a row now, until John Sears, age 18 came out. Brutus got up to flea when John ran over and grabbed his shaggy hair. John pulled him back and punched him in the back of the head. Brutus fell, as John wound up and kicked him in the face. Brutus, laying on the ground, began to scream. Blood was pouring down his face, turning his white teeth red. He was laying in an odd position, just laying, screaming. John helped up Jeff and helped him into the house.
*****
Jeff was sitting on the couch with a band-aid on his forehead, arms, and legs. He was just sitting quietly, wondering why his brother hit the guy so much. At this age he felt sorry for Brutus, he didn't know who bad and good people were. He just sat, with a sad look over his face. John came into the room.
John: I don't want you going outside ever again without protection okay? That guy out there, he is from a gang. Gangs are not good, and they might hurt you.
Jeff smiled and nodded. John look outside. He saw Brutus laying on the road, when a few more guys ran over to help him up. They were all wearing black sleeveless shirts, with white trim. These shirts, would forever be the target of John Sears. John punched the wall, angry, full of hate. He walked outside with a baseball bat in his right hand, a crowbar in his left. The three men approached him.
Brutus: Your dead man. You don't start with the Saracens and get away with it!
John gets a cocky grin on his face and nods. Then, in one motion, throws the bat into one guy's head, so hard he fell unconious, and a crowbar at the other, sticking into his eye socket, letting him fall, screaming, blood pouring down his face, leaving Brutus still standing by himself. John grabbed him and pulled him into the house, as he locked the doors, put things against them, and put things in front of the windows. John sat him on the floor in the living room.
John: I'm dead am I? I'M DEAD!?
John kicks him in the side of the head.
John: You guys call yourselves The Saracens eh? Well wait 'til you meet the Jones Street Boys!
Brutus: The Jones Street-
John kicked him in the head, and put his foot on his neck. Brutus lost his breath, and made a few gurgling noises before dying. John turned around to see Jeff, watching in amazment. His young fragile mind, would never be the same again.
*****
Eight years later. Jones Street Boys turf.
John was sitting with Jeff, along with many other guys. They were all just hanging around the street.
Jeff: Look! John!
John: What the-
The Saracens. About 35. All charging into the street. John jumped up, along with Jeff, and about 20 other Jone Street Boys. They all charged back, this turning more into a war than a street gang fight. John was swinging his fists around, back and fourth. Clubbing, and swatting, and hitting, for a long period of time. The Jones Street Boys were soming out on top, when Jeff, age 17 now, got tackled by three Saracens. They got on top of Jeff, pounding away. This took John off his focus, letting a Saracen take him down. He quickly and easily took care of the Saracen, and the war was done. Everyone was finished. But where was Jeff?