Fifteen minutes ago, I was good. Now, I can’t get my hands to stop shaking. My heart is beating a million miles an hour. My stomach feels queasy. I’m sweating like I just ran a marathon. “Why did you make me do that,” I screamed, “Why?!” That’s when the tears began to stream down my cheeks. I stood there shaking like a leaf, looking at the result of my actions. My crew grabbed me and stuffed me into the backseat of an SUV and sped off. That’s when I began to sob uncontrollably.

He had been my best friend my whole damn life. Hell, we were closer than friends. We were brothers. Everywhere one of us went, the other was right behind. That’s how we ended up here. We didn’t come from the best neighborhood. Statistically speaking, there were but so many ways to make it out: sports, music, or some sort of illegal activity. And while we were good at both of the former, we chose the latter as our escape route.

We started out selling dime bags for this wanna be big time nigga from our neighborhood when we were 13. Even back then, I think had a sense for how this story would go, how things would eventually end. I was unsure about the whole thing. My big cousin had gotten his brains blown out by his homeboy just the year before. And while the police told the family they suspected that it was a robbery gone bad, we knew what had really happened. I had told myself that I wouldn’t go down that same path. But there I was, accepting a package from a flashy nigga that I didn’t respect in the least bit.

As we grew up, so did our business. We had gone from selling dimes on the corner to moving major weight for these Colombian cats we met through some mutual friends. Nobody suspected that 2 honor roll students from the projects were building the largest drug empire the city had ever seen. And we loved that. Nobody saw us coming. Not even that flashy nigga from back in the day when I stuck a knife in his jugular after I caught wind that he was gonna turn state’s evidence against us. I ain’t gonna lie, it felt good to knock his punk ass off. I would’ve done that just for the hell of it.

As the SUV sped through the city, I slowly began to regain my composure. I found myself staring out the window, wondering what life would’ve been like had we chosen a different path. I saw myself in college, working a regular job in corporate America, getting married, having a couple kids. Up until that point, nothing about a normal life intrigued me. I loved the thrill that came with what we did. But in that moment, after the events of that night, I craved normalcy.

A few minutes later, we pulled into the warehouse that served as our base of operations. I slowly got out of the SUV as the rest of my crew went about business as usual. I stood for a moment and watched what was going on around me. I had never paid this much attention, but now it was like my eyes were opened for the first time. And everything I saw disgusted me. In that very instant, I knew I had to find a way out. I rushed to my office and locked the door. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do or where I was going, but I had to come up with a plan quick.

I poked my head out the office door and quickly scanned the room then called my lieutenant over. He asked what was going on. I told him that I was gonna disappear for a while. His expression quickly soured. I reassured him that everything would be fine, I just needed to get away for a little bit. He told that I should let the rest of the crew know. Reluctantly, I agreed and walked out of the office. Once I had everyone’s attention, I let them know of my intentions to “take a break” for the foreseeable future. Everyone nodded and went back to whatever they were doing.

I grabbed the keys to my BMW 530i and headed outside. The cool night air passed over me and the events of the night fully set in. I had killed my best friend less than an hour ago. Hell, I still had the gun tucked in my waistband. I pulled the Glock out of the small of my back and examined it. Then I pressed it to my temple and squeezed the trigger.