Retribution Prologue

Prologue
I suppose you could say I’m a bit of a loner.
The only people I can name close to friends are a socially dejected farm boy and a skinny computer geek, although the only relation I share with them is being tied up together on the bulls-eye target board for bullies. And no, before you start to think I’m a pathetic excuse for a human being too, I’m not all that weak and small. It’s just, I have a bit of a background to me that, naturally makes me the all you can eat buffet for the large, near mentally retarded beasts that roam the school trying to find a meaning to their very existence.
But hey, there’s always home.
Well, then again my parents aren’t exactly what you call ideal. My dad’s out near twenty-four seven doing some dead end job earning him 30p an hour and my mum, well let’s just say she’s found her second soul partner, alcohol. We live in the most rundown apartment block known to mankind, hell I’d of stuck some explosives on it and done the job myself if not for the swarm of grubby homeless people crowding the halls. Not to mention the overly depressed, suicidal men and women barely qualifying for lower class workers camped out in the apartments, were putrid taps spurt random burst of water if you’re lucky, and getting any more than enough electricity to turn on a couple of light bulbs for an hour each night as likely as an entire city simultaneously spontaneously combusting. I know, sounds homely right?
So of course, with barely enough money to scrape by some food each day, and the thought of Christmas, Birthdays and presents not even worth the effort, I reluctantly turned to crime. Very original, huh? Teenager wants money so seeks retribution at the local offie. After a few police warnings gets banged up in jail for a few years and the rest of their life becomes a tormented struggle to find a job paying more than £1.50 an hour.
Clearly I should be smarter, better than this. I should be able to use my extensive knowledge gained at a chaotic place even the teachers can’t call a school and rise up to my dreams of becoming the manager of some huge corporation making thousands of pounds every week.
You can see why crime reached out to me.
However, unfortunately my well thought out plan of grasping the nearest object to the door and bolting down the street towards home didn’t pan out as I hoped. I was fuelled on adrenaline at the time, prepping myself for my first theft as I marched towards the local off-license. It had be the day that I was too focused on the doors to see the police car parked outside, with it neon yellow finish and the word ‘POLICE’ clearly visible all over.
I didn’t even make out the door. One minute I was the lord of thieves, a pint of Jack Daniels in each hand and a world of fortune before me. The next I had a bruised temple and a ringing headache.
The police don’t mind using a bit of force around here, too many athletic kids outrunning them before they could even think about pursuit. It was easier just to club them over the head and will out a form claiming they had put up a fight.
Police warning, check. Fortune, zero.
A year later things had got no better, and I was now a slightly larger sixteen year old freshly excluded from school with an ‘ASBO’ to name. The next part really was the icing on the cake to my failure of a life.