Convict confessions: blog #1

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What lead me to start selling drugs and breaking the law.

Influence! That is a strong word when growing up poor and seeing family and friends living better lives them you. The summer of 1987, I was 12 going on 30. 6’2 210lbs with a beard. I had developed as a grown man. Had a fake id, knew how to drive, but was missing something called MONEY. Living in a low-income neighborhood, you see it all. Prostitutes, drug addicts, assaults, killing and drug dealers. My father worked, yet he only made enough to pay the bills. My mother was in between jobs. Yes I grew up in a two parent home, but we stayed broke. All my older cousins had nice cars, designer clothes, pretty girls and pockets full of money. My mind told me to work with my cousins and have them put me on with selling drugs for them, but I knew my father would stick his entire foot in my ass. Late summer I was laying in my bed contemplating, how I was going to get me some fast easy money. As I laid in the bed, I over heard my parents arguing. My mother was sick and tired of living in the hood, wanted new clothes, TV and a better life for all of us. My father tried to argue back, but in the end my mother won the argument. I could tell his spirit was broken because he admitted how he would have find a second job to make my mother happy. The hurt in my fathers voice and knowing my mother was unhappy changed my life that summer of 1987 and was the start of the entrepreneur in me.

The next day I went to a friend of one of my older cousins and asked him to front me some crack. I didn’t want my family in my business. I also knew from watching other young hustlers I didn’t want to stand on no street corners. There were enough drug addicts in my neighborhood where I could sell to them behind closed doors. After I got fronted twice, I started to buy my own. I worked by myself riding my bike up and down the street and surrounding areas. In no time, I had the new Jordan’s, new clothes a new bike and a pocket full of money. My parents never knew of my illegal activities because I hid my clothes and things I bought in the bushes. I kept my same profile with my parents 24/7. I was just a big man child to them yet once I stepped foot out the door, I was known as Big L. Five months had passed and still nothing new for my mother. On a Sunday I was sitting on the couch watching TV and heard my parents car pull up. I quickly ran to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. A big smile came across my face. I ran outside and said “Mom, dad look what I found in the trash can.” My mothers eyes got big and she grabbed my fathers hand. I handed them over $1000 with mustard and ketch-up stains covering the money. I had to make it look like the money came from the trash can:). I don’t condone selling drugs, but I cant change my past. The look on my mothers face when she got her a new TV was priceless.

Mentor Love.