Fiction: Group 2
The best place to steal is The Goldfish.
“Let’s nick something from the from The Goldfish. You know, the usual plan. You lead then into an alley
pretending to sell him something, and punch them in the face, and then steal everything off them. If that
fails, I’ll cover ,” I say.
“Okay.” agreed Xi, “You got a bike and weapons?”
“Yeah” I say, showing him the black bike with 2 seats, and giving him his dagger with a beautiful carved
handle, and I get out my dagger as well.
“Okay,” Xi says, “Lets get to it.”
I hop on the front of the bike, and Xi hops on the back. I am pedaling across the road; when Xi suddenly
leans forward and yells in my ear, “Faster!”
I look behind me and see a group of motorcycles racing toward us across the intersection.
“The Orgena Boys!” I yell, pedalling harder, and veering right towards an alleyway. It smelled really bad,
had loads of (really gross and inappropriate) graffiti scrawled all over the wall but it would have to do for
now.
The Orgena Boys are the most notorious gang in Guangzhou. Not only are we on their so-called
“territory”, which they hate, but I also owe them money.
Before I know it, Broken Tooth (the leader of the Orgena boys) skids in front of our bike and yells, “When
are you repaying that debt? LOSER!”
“When pigs start flying,” I yell back.
“I take that as an insult,” Broken Tooth yells. “And an insult declares a fight.”
Broken Tooth jumps off his motorbike, signaling the rest of his gang (Killer, Gambler, Rat and Joker) to
come with him.
I step off my bike with Xi.
Even though I seem fearless on the outside, I am feeling really terrified, because first of all, we’re
outnumbered and second of all, we are fighting the most ruthless gang of all time.
Broken Tooth grabs my shirt lifts me until my toes are barely touching the ground and says slowly “Listen
punk. If you don’t give me the money right now, I will kill you”
I scream, “Put me down! I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”
Broken Tooth slowly puts me down, and holds his hand out.
“Give it to me … NOW!” Broken Tooth demands.
“You want it?” I ask, digging my hand deeply in my pocket, my fingers gripping the hand of my dagger. I
pull out my dagger and I stab him in the stomach.
“You’ve got it! ” I yell.
There is a moment of silence.
Broken Tooth looks down at his stomach, seeing the dagger stuck in his stomach. He pulls it out, gasping,
“You stabbed me. NOBODY STABS BROKEN TOOTH!!!”
Broken Tooth eyes were red with fury, and his head was steaming. He brandished the dagger in
front of my heart.
“Night Night! Sleep tight” Broken Tooth says smirking.
Suddenly, the sound of police sirens filled the air. We hear a voice, shouting through a megaphone,
“DROP YOUR WEAPON KID OR WE WILL SHOOT!”
But Broken Tooth doesn’t stop.
