Post by fninfamous on Oct 10, 2007 17:47:10 GMT -4
Dream 1....
Tha Infamous 187 continues to lay in his hospital bed, motionless and unconscious. Unable to feel or hear a thing, he stilled laid there in his coma, unaware of what’s going on around him. The doctors would continue to try to keep the man alive the best they could. The only thing they could do was wait it out. Comas are unpredictable. Some last but a few days and others last years and years. Who knows what it could be like being in a coma? Is it simply lying there unconsciously or is it possible that it’s similar to a dream? There was still brain activity going on in 187’s head. It’s possible.
Deep within the subconscious of Tha Infamous 187’s mind….
The year was 1999. The man simply known to the world as Tha Infamous 187 was but a young seventeen year old teenager. He was in the beginning stages of being one of the baddest around in California. Growing up in the streets of Compton was not the easiest thing in the world for him. He picked up on certain things that would eventually lead him to who he was today. Selling drugs, armed robbery, getting into fights, getting involved with all the wrong people... Not the picture perfect life that normal people envision for their kids. To top it all off, the young man had even gotten himself involved with a local gang known as The Piru Bloods. Which would only make things worse. It would only fuel the fire that burned deep within Adrian Taylor. He was dubbed "Tha Notorious 187" by his new found "family" for the simple fact that Adrian Taylor was one crazy kid when it came to doing the "dirty work." 187 is simply the numeric code for the crime of murder used by law enforcement officials, particularly in the state of California. The number is used for this purpose because Section 187 of the California Penal Code defines the crime of murder. I'm sure you get the picture now when it comes to this "dirty work" that Adrian has done for his "family." Fast forward several years after joining The Piru Bloods...
It was a hot summer day. A young seventeen year old Adrian Taylor sat across a couch in the living room of a house located in Compton, Los Angeles, California. Dressed in a white tank top, red Dickies shorts, a red bandana was tied on the back of his head as it wrapped around his forehead, no shoes but there was a pair of black socks on. The house was empty with the only two people inside was himself and his younger brother, a ten year old Chris Taylor. There was a television was on in front of the two. They were watching the Saturday morning cartoon line up. Adrian was babysitting his brother as they waited for their mother and little sister to return home from a day of shopping for groceries. Adrian laughed to himself at the cartoons on the television.
Adrian Taylor: "Hahahaha... Damn 'dat rabbit's smart..."
Chris Taylor: "Hahahaha... Yeah..."
All was good. All was calm. All was peaceful. Just sitting there, having a good time with his kid brother. Adrian looked down at his brother whose eyes were glued to the television screen. It made him smirk as he shook his head. It was times like these that really made family feel like family. His real family, that is. But in this story, there are no happy endings. This warm and fuzzy Kodak moment is soon interrupted by loud shouting outside of the house. The voices of three men could be heard in front of the house that they lived in. To make it worse, they were yelling at the house. They were calling for someone to come out. Someone very specific.
Male Voice 1: " This the place where his @$$ live right?"
Male Voice 2: "Yeah. This the place. His @$$ better be home. If not, there will be more hell to pay than he gon' get."
Male Voice 3: " YO! 187! I know your @$$ is in there! Bring that @$$ on outside mothaf**ka! It's war time, nigga!"
Upon hearing those three numbers shouted out, Adrian raised an eyebrow as he looked in the direction the voices were coming from. He slowly stood up from the couch he was sitting on and proceeded to make his way over to the window. Ever so slightly, taking a finger and pulling the curtain a few centimeters over so that he could take a peak to see what was going on out there. He saw three men, dressed in all blue, angry looks on their faces, and they were definitely not calling him out to have a talk. Adrian couldn't recognize the faces. He couldn't decide whether or not he had seen these men before and why they were angry with him. From the way they were dressed, he could only imagine the number of things that could have triggered this moment. In the past, 187 and the Crips... well let's say they weren't always the best of friends. Not like they were in the present. In the present, 187 strive for gang unity. No more color wars and things like that. But back in 1999, well.. it's a MUCH different story. As he stared out the window, he said under his breath...
Adrian Taylor: "What the fu-...?"
But this was shortly cut off, with the three men quickly reaching within their coats. Slowly pulling out three automatic guns. Mack-10s, if you want to get more specific. Their last words were...
Male Voice 1: "FINE! YOU AIN'T COMIN' OUT THEN B***H!? I'LL SHOW YOU WHATS UP!"
Male Voice 2: "GET THIS MOTHAF**KA!"
Male Voice 3: "SLOB @$$ NIGGA! SUCK ON THESE! "
With that said, the three men opened fire at the house. Not giving a damn who was inside. Not giving a damn whether or not Adrian was inside the house. If he wasn't, he was going to get the message when he got home. Unfortunately, he was home and with his innocent kid brother. His eyes widened as he seen the triggers being pulled and the sounds of the guns firing rapidly ripped through the air. Adrian rushed over to his kid brother Chris and kneeled below the window. He looked over at his brother and yelled out to him...
Adrian Taylor: "Sh*t!!!! Duck down!!!"
Chris Taylor: "Why?"
Adrian Taylor: "Quick!!! People are shooting!!!!"
With no time to spare, Adrian jumped from his position and tackled his brother onto the floor. Holding him closing with his back facing where the shooting was coming from. Shielding his brother from the bullets if any happen to make their way to where they were at. Chris tightened his grip and he tried to stay as close as he could to his older brother. Feeling safe and secure within the arms of Adrian. Bullets tore into the house like it was nothing. Blasting through the walls and hitting whatever was inside. Creating a huge mess of shattered glass, wood, and whatever else the bullets broke through and hit. After a few moments, the gun fire had stopped. Adrian looked up from the floor and said in a low voice...
Adrian Taylor: "I think it might be ova'..."
But something wasn't right. Adrian looked up and the bullets were not flying. That wasn't it. He looked around the room and there was no one around. Something just felt... off. Something felt like it wasn't right. Something deep inside him felt like something was wrong. He raised an eyebrow as he could feel a wetness on his chest. Could he have been hit? If so, why didn't he feel anything? Then it hit him, he slowly pulled back his brother from his chest only to find a lifeless ten year old body in his arms. The shock of this moment hit him right to his very core. Blood covered the chest of the young boy. It was plain to see what had happened, he just didn't know how. Adrian could still hear voices outside of the house. There was but one thing on his might at this moment... revenge. He didn't care how. He just wanted them three men who shot at his house to be six feet under the dirt. Adrian slowly lowered his brother's body onto the floor and said...
Adrian Taylor: "Don't worry bro... I'ma get these mothaf**kas fo' ya... 'Dis sh*t ain't gonna slide..."
Adrian stood up from the floor and reached underneath his shirt he was wearing. Slowly, he pulled out a chrome Desert Eagle pistol from his waist line and took it off safety. He cocked the gun and proceeded to make his way over to the front door of the house. His thoughts were of murder once again. The pain he felt in his chest was indescribable. An eye for an eye, that's the price to pay when it came to how he handled things. He did not know the motives that the man had for attempting to take his life away. But he was damn sure not going to let them walk away from this. Adrian kicked the door open to the front porch and stepped out. Looking at the three men who had not left yet. No words were spoken by Adrian, he simply lifted his gun up, aimed, and fired...
Male Voice 1: "F**K! IT'S 187!"
Male Voice 2: "GET HIM!"
Male Voice 3: " YOU F**KIN' SON A B***H! "
The three men drew their weapons again and began to fire at Adrian. Miraculously, Adrian seemed to be able to dodge the bullets or they weren't hitting him. It was like some kind of divine intervention. Either way, the bullets were flying again and Adrian was not getting hit. The same could not be said about the three men in the street. Adrian's shots seemed to be spot on. Something he taught himself from this life he led. He knew how to aim very well, shoot, readjust himself for the next target, aim, and shoot again. Almost like he was on some kind of military mode. He was just able to aim, shoot, and hit the three men like it was nothing. When it was all said and done, and all the smoke cleared... Adrian Taylor... no... Tha Infamous 187... stood there victoriously. Tears streaming down the sides of his face from the loss of his younger brother. That fire burning deep inside him. The rage in his eyes could be see. The anger in his face as he stared out into the street at the three bodies lay lifeless and filled with bullets. At that moment, a dark green mini van entered the area with two females inside. One was at least in her early thirties while the other was about five years old. They had a shocked look on their faces at the sight in front of them. Adrian looked up at the green mini van with tears in his eyes. Then he turned away from the outside world and made his way back into the house. This would mark the day that Adrian Taylor was dead to the world. This would mark the day that he would be disowned by his own family and kicked out onto the streets to fend for himself. If it's not obvious by now... That was the mother and sister mentioned earlier. Shocked at seeing Adrian and what appeared to have happened. Disowned because the life he led in the gang had claimed the life of his younger brother. His family wanted nothing more to do with him. Adrian Taylor was dead. Tha Infamous 187 was now in his place. With his "family" The Piru Bloods. Ever wonder why 187 was such an alcoholic? Now you know. You can imagine for yourself how this scene ends. Plenty of screaming, crying, and well... the laws involvement. Can't commit murder in broad daylight without there being some consequences. But long story short, Adrian Taylor is disowned and dead, Tha Infamous 187 takes his place in this world, beating the system in court under "self defense" with his part in the shooting. And the world keeps spinning and life goes on from there... Thus concluding this dream... and letting the man known to the world as Tha Infamous 187 rest in his unconscious state of mind... Motionless... In a coma...
Tha Infamous 187 continues to lay in his hospital bed, motionless and unconscious. Unable to feel or hear a thing, he stilled laid there in his coma, unaware of what’s going on around him. The doctors would continue to try to keep the man alive the best they could. The only thing they could do was wait it out. Comas are unpredictable. Some last but a few days and others last years and years. Who knows what it could be like being in a coma? Is it simply lying there unconsciously or is it possible that it’s similar to a dream? There was still brain activity going on in 187’s head. It’s possible.
Deep within the subconscious of Tha Infamous 187’s mind….
The year was 1999. The man simply known to the world as Tha Infamous 187 was but a young seventeen year old teenager. He was in the beginning stages of being one of the baddest around in California. Growing up in the streets of Compton was not the easiest thing in the world for him. He picked up on certain things that would eventually lead him to who he was today. Selling drugs, armed robbery, getting into fights, getting involved with all the wrong people... Not the picture perfect life that normal people envision for their kids. To top it all off, the young man had even gotten himself involved with a local gang known as The Piru Bloods. Which would only make things worse. It would only fuel the fire that burned deep within Adrian Taylor. He was dubbed "Tha Notorious 187" by his new found "family" for the simple fact that Adrian Taylor was one crazy kid when it came to doing the "dirty work." 187 is simply the numeric code for the crime of murder used by law enforcement officials, particularly in the state of California. The number is used for this purpose because Section 187 of the California Penal Code defines the crime of murder. I'm sure you get the picture now when it comes to this "dirty work" that Adrian has done for his "family." Fast forward several years after joining The Piru Bloods...
It was a hot summer day. A young seventeen year old Adrian Taylor sat across a couch in the living room of a house located in Compton, Los Angeles, California. Dressed in a white tank top, red Dickies shorts, a red bandana was tied on the back of his head as it wrapped around his forehead, no shoes but there was a pair of black socks on. The house was empty with the only two people inside was himself and his younger brother, a ten year old Chris Taylor. There was a television was on in front of the two. They were watching the Saturday morning cartoon line up. Adrian was babysitting his brother as they waited for their mother and little sister to return home from a day of shopping for groceries. Adrian laughed to himself at the cartoons on the television.
Adrian Taylor: "Hahahaha... Damn 'dat rabbit's smart..."
Chris Taylor: "Hahahaha... Yeah..."
All was good. All was calm. All was peaceful. Just sitting there, having a good time with his kid brother. Adrian looked down at his brother whose eyes were glued to the television screen. It made him smirk as he shook his head. It was times like these that really made family feel like family. His real family, that is. But in this story, there are no happy endings. This warm and fuzzy Kodak moment is soon interrupted by loud shouting outside of the house. The voices of three men could be heard in front of the house that they lived in. To make it worse, they were yelling at the house. They were calling for someone to come out. Someone very specific.
Male Voice 1: " This the place where his @$$ live right?"
Male Voice 2: "Yeah. This the place. His @$$ better be home. If not, there will be more hell to pay than he gon' get."
Male Voice 3: " YO! 187! I know your @$$ is in there! Bring that @$$ on outside mothaf**ka! It's war time, nigga!"
Upon hearing those three numbers shouted out, Adrian raised an eyebrow as he looked in the direction the voices were coming from. He slowly stood up from the couch he was sitting on and proceeded to make his way over to the window. Ever so slightly, taking a finger and pulling the curtain a few centimeters over so that he could take a peak to see what was going on out there. He saw three men, dressed in all blue, angry looks on their faces, and they were definitely not calling him out to have a talk. Adrian couldn't recognize the faces. He couldn't decide whether or not he had seen these men before and why they were angry with him. From the way they were dressed, he could only imagine the number of things that could have triggered this moment. In the past, 187 and the Crips... well let's say they weren't always the best of friends. Not like they were in the present. In the present, 187 strive for gang unity. No more color wars and things like that. But back in 1999, well.. it's a MUCH different story. As he stared out the window, he said under his breath...
Adrian Taylor: "What the fu-...?"
But this was shortly cut off, with the three men quickly reaching within their coats. Slowly pulling out three automatic guns. Mack-10s, if you want to get more specific. Their last words were...
Male Voice 1: "FINE! YOU AIN'T COMIN' OUT THEN B***H!? I'LL SHOW YOU WHATS UP!"
Male Voice 2: "GET THIS MOTHAF**KA!"
Male Voice 3: "SLOB @$$ NIGGA! SUCK ON THESE! "
With that said, the three men opened fire at the house. Not giving a damn who was inside. Not giving a damn whether or not Adrian was inside the house. If he wasn't, he was going to get the message when he got home. Unfortunately, he was home and with his innocent kid brother. His eyes widened as he seen the triggers being pulled and the sounds of the guns firing rapidly ripped through the air. Adrian rushed over to his kid brother Chris and kneeled below the window. He looked over at his brother and yelled out to him...
Adrian Taylor: "Sh*t!!!! Duck down!!!"
Chris Taylor: "Why?"
Adrian Taylor: "Quick!!! People are shooting!!!!"
With no time to spare, Adrian jumped from his position and tackled his brother onto the floor. Holding him closing with his back facing where the shooting was coming from. Shielding his brother from the bullets if any happen to make their way to where they were at. Chris tightened his grip and he tried to stay as close as he could to his older brother. Feeling safe and secure within the arms of Adrian. Bullets tore into the house like it was nothing. Blasting through the walls and hitting whatever was inside. Creating a huge mess of shattered glass, wood, and whatever else the bullets broke through and hit. After a few moments, the gun fire had stopped. Adrian looked up from the floor and said in a low voice...
Adrian Taylor: "I think it might be ova'..."
But something wasn't right. Adrian looked up and the bullets were not flying. That wasn't it. He looked around the room and there was no one around. Something just felt... off. Something felt like it wasn't right. Something deep inside him felt like something was wrong. He raised an eyebrow as he could feel a wetness on his chest. Could he have been hit? If so, why didn't he feel anything? Then it hit him, he slowly pulled back his brother from his chest only to find a lifeless ten year old body in his arms. The shock of this moment hit him right to his very core. Blood covered the chest of the young boy. It was plain to see what had happened, he just didn't know how. Adrian could still hear voices outside of the house. There was but one thing on his might at this moment... revenge. He didn't care how. He just wanted them three men who shot at his house to be six feet under the dirt. Adrian slowly lowered his brother's body onto the floor and said...
Adrian Taylor: "Don't worry bro... I'ma get these mothaf**kas fo' ya... 'Dis sh*t ain't gonna slide..."
Adrian stood up from the floor and reached underneath his shirt he was wearing. Slowly, he pulled out a chrome Desert Eagle pistol from his waist line and took it off safety. He cocked the gun and proceeded to make his way over to the front door of the house. His thoughts were of murder once again. The pain he felt in his chest was indescribable. An eye for an eye, that's the price to pay when it came to how he handled things. He did not know the motives that the man had for attempting to take his life away. But he was damn sure not going to let them walk away from this. Adrian kicked the door open to the front porch and stepped out. Looking at the three men who had not left yet. No words were spoken by Adrian, he simply lifted his gun up, aimed, and fired...
Male Voice 1: "F**K! IT'S 187!"
Male Voice 2: "GET HIM!"
Male Voice 3: " YOU F**KIN' SON A B***H! "
The three men drew their weapons again and began to fire at Adrian. Miraculously, Adrian seemed to be able to dodge the bullets or they weren't hitting him. It was like some kind of divine intervention. Either way, the bullets were flying again and Adrian was not getting hit. The same could not be said about the three men in the street. Adrian's shots seemed to be spot on. Something he taught himself from this life he led. He knew how to aim very well, shoot, readjust himself for the next target, aim, and shoot again. Almost like he was on some kind of military mode. He was just able to aim, shoot, and hit the three men like it was nothing. When it was all said and done, and all the smoke cleared... Adrian Taylor... no... Tha Infamous 187... stood there victoriously. Tears streaming down the sides of his face from the loss of his younger brother. That fire burning deep inside him. The rage in his eyes could be see. The anger in his face as he stared out into the street at the three bodies lay lifeless and filled with bullets. At that moment, a dark green mini van entered the area with two females inside. One was at least in her early thirties while the other was about five years old. They had a shocked look on their faces at the sight in front of them. Adrian looked up at the green mini van with tears in his eyes. Then he turned away from the outside world and made his way back into the house. This would mark the day that Adrian Taylor was dead to the world. This would mark the day that he would be disowned by his own family and kicked out onto the streets to fend for himself. If it's not obvious by now... That was the mother and sister mentioned earlier. Shocked at seeing Adrian and what appeared to have happened. Disowned because the life he led in the gang had claimed the life of his younger brother. His family wanted nothing more to do with him. Adrian Taylor was dead. Tha Infamous 187 was now in his place. With his "family" The Piru Bloods. Ever wonder why 187 was such an alcoholic? Now you know. You can imagine for yourself how this scene ends. Plenty of screaming, crying, and well... the laws involvement. Can't commit murder in broad daylight without there being some consequences. But long story short, Adrian Taylor is disowned and dead, Tha Infamous 187 takes his place in this world, beating the system in court under "self defense" with his part in the shooting. And the world keeps spinning and life goes on from there... Thus concluding this dream... and letting the man known to the world as Tha Infamous 187 rest in his unconscious state of mind... Motionless... In a coma...