Story: The Young One

“Thanks for coming quickly!” the young man said standing. The youth was pacing as he spoke. The other man was older, nineteen maybe, he was quiet and understanding until the younger man spoke in a hushed tone. “You have to tell mum George! Tell the police for god sake!”

“It’s Jim to you.” George said smugly.

“What?” Said Charlie puzzled.

“Jim, my new code name.” said George quickly and a little less confidently.

“Don’t speak tae me like that! I’m your brother and I will call you by your real name!” said Charlie as he stood up pointing down to his brother. George apologised and sat down with a slump. Soon after Charlie sat down too and comforted his sixteen year old brother.

Before he left Charlie he told his brother about the boy across the road. “The gang killed him because he left after three ‘jobs’. He found out where the hide out and the ‘safe’ house were. It might also happen to you!” he said with doubt and fear.

If George wanted to leave before he was accepted into the gang this was his last chance.

A couple of hours later George was changing into complete black. Looking for what his gang wanted him to wear for his first mission.

You’s must have:

A blac hat

A blac top

A blac Coat

A blac trouserz

A blac Shoez

As George read the letter he wanted to fix all the spelling and punctuation mistakes, but he didn’t want to seem big headed on the first meeting with his new ‘Boss’. |t was also the fact that he was so terrified. His heart was racing and his hand shook vigorously as he read the letter. He couldn’t sit still. He walked round the flat so many times that he would probably have noticed a piece of dust fall.

He had been in the meeting flat for about an hour now and he still had to wait for twenty minutes until they were supposed to meet. As he walked round the flat his nose got used to the stench of cat pee and beer stained carpet that looked as if someone had tried to burn it off; he was surprised that there were no flies. He finally sat down, but felt like he was going to fall asleep, so he walked through to the tiny kitchen and found the bag of useful things his mother had given him before he left and broke the front door to show off to the gang. His eyes teared up as he searched the bag, the first thing he found was a small bag of coffee from Starbucks; the new shop that had just opened. “This must have been really expensive…” as he spoke, his chin trembled. He continued looking through the bag until he got to the bottom and found a small square box wrapped in brown paper. He pulled it out of the bag and unwrapped it, and with the most tears he had cried all evening he said, “Thank you mum.”

He whispered it as if he was talking to the sky and tried his hardest to hold back his tears as he put things back into the bag slowly.

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