Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Ronald Dump was sitting on a wall watching the street when a bunch of guys came and started cracking the bricks. He was wearing nothing but his underwear and had a bottle of water in his hand. It was hot and he was sweating profusely. The pavement was slick with sweat and grime. He was trying to stay focused on the game he was playing, but the crackers were distracting. They were everywhere. On the street, in the alleys, under the overpasses, and even on the rooftops. Some were kids, but most were grown men. They weren't threatening, just annoying. One of them threw a rock at his head and missed. "Get off the wall," a kid yelled. "Get a job, Dump."
Ronald didn't bother to respond. He was used to the kid's insults by now. His father had been called worse. The guy was probably one of the gang members that lived in the neighborhood. "Get a job" was their motto. "Get a job" was all they said. It was their way of telling you that you weren't cool, that you didn't have any friends and that you spent too much time playing video games instead of working. They used to say "Go get 'em, Tiger," but that was before he lost his job at the foundry. Now it was just a bunch of kids yelling at him.
The game he was playing wasn't helping. "Tiger, kill him!" someone yelled from the crowd of onlookers. "He can take the hit!" Another voice yelled, "Punch him in the face!" and a third voice yelled, "Headshot! Headshot!Headshot!"
Ronald didn't bother to turn away from the street. He knew what would happen if he did. He would be forced to fight one of them. That was what happened every time. Even if he won, he would be forced to fight one of them anyway. The police would be called and he would be forced to pay a fine for resisting arrest. It was a vicious cycle.
The game froze. His character was stuck on the ground. He couldn't move. It was a vicious cycle.
"Punch him in the face!" someone yelled again.
Ronald turned away from the street and punched the guy in the face that was closest to him. It felt good. He felt like he was in a fight. He had been in a fight once.It had been in high school. A fight had broken out between two groups of teenagers. He had been in the middle of the brawl when a cop’s baton had smashed into his face. Blood had sprayed everywhere. It had been bad. Really bad. But this was nothing compared to that. This was just a game. Right? The guy he had punched fell to the ground. The crowd around him got bigger. More people were coming to watch. “I need to get out of here," he thought to himself. "I need to get out of here before they make me fight one of them." He looked around. There were a group of people hanging out on the corner.