The No-Named Group Of Nash Elway

"No...He's not close to me," I sat there looking around. It was just a gray rooom with a metal table, chair, wall, and floor. So much metal, you can smell it-- it made me sick to my stomach. "Not anymore. Don't plan on bein' close ever again." I tapped my fingers on the table, looking straight at Ted, a policeman, who was questioning me. I'm not really the type to dig the police. They don't really respect people around my neighborhood. They don't like the black people even more. Messed up ain't it? It's now 1988,and cops still disrespect colored people. I feel bad for them.
Everyone on my side of town, even me, are known as poor hoodlums, even if you weren't in a gang. This cop was nicer than the others though, which is good because if my buttons get pushed one more time by some snotty cop, I might just punch him in the face. "He's your father, Nash. What happened? Apparently, he used to love all of you, right? So why did he suddenly stop? Please, feel free to tell me your whole story." Ted was scratching his ear pathetically while holding a tape recorder. The cops wouldn't do anything if I told then the story. I would be tossed in jail for a little while, and then placed in an orphanage or foster home. Something along the lines of that. "I'm not telling you the whole story detail after detail. I don't give a d@mn anymore, so can you just throw me in juvy for the amount of time I need to spend there?" I looked down at my chain, thinking that I had lost all my hope. Can you imagine a fifteen-year-old going through the junk I did? I know for a fact stuff like this doesn't happen to young teenagers everyday. Similar cases, maybe, but when something exactly like this happens, you better believe it's a big deal. "O.K., listen up good. You're gonna have to tell me your whole story. I'll wait. I got all day. So start speaking." Ted commanded, pressing a button on the tape recorder. I stared down at the table for a silent moment, feeling sweat form on my face and anxiety and frustration raise in my body. I'm gonna have to tell this cop my whole story. The long story that I tried to put behind me and move on was now going to be told to some cop. Not to my 'mother' or 'father', not to a close friend, but to some cop. Well, if i'm going to tell this story to Ted, i'm going to make it sound like a book. Maybe he'll get tired of me speaking for so long and tell me to shut my trap. I raised m head, cleared my throat, and smiled at the cop. Not to be friendly or polite, but so i didn't show how much hatred I stored for him, and so I didn't attack the nosy rat. Then, I started from the very beginning. Here it is, this is my story...;