I Don't Want to Fight

It was a clear sunny day in my neighborhood. I was walking around trying to sell some video games I had. This was my way of making money for a short period. I was either 12 or 13. Where I'm from, there were two neighborhood gangs that each occupied a section of the town. I lived right on the border of where the town splits, so people had different assumptions about what gang I represented. But I was very far from a gangster.

While attempting to sell my video games, 4 guys approached me. Some were on bikes, and some were on foot. They ended up questioning my gang affiliation. I was selling games on their side of town, where their gang was prevalent. They thought I was a part of the rival gang, which was prevalent on the other side of town. Again, my residence had people assuming different things since I didn't live on a clear side of town. I also had friends and family everywhere in town. So you'd see me on all sides.

While being questioned by this gang, I told them I was just a civilian. But they swore I was their enemy. I was just meeting these guys, and one of them wanted to fight me. Being cornered by 4, I didn't think I had much of a choice. And the one person I was with had no intention of trying to help.

I started fighting one, while the other three just watched. But this was the last thing I wanted to do. For each punch that landed on my face, I barely swung back. I did not want to fight. I ended up fighting another member of the gang as well. I don't remember why exactly. But I didn't see a way out. The result was the same. I barely touched him. And my friend at the time just watched.

Remember, my only intent was to sell some games in the neighborhood. And at this point, the gang had gotten a hold of my games. I tried to grab them back, but the guys wouldn't budge. They said they would give me the money for the games later and took off. But I knew that was a lie.

Fast forward a few weeks, my older cousin had found out about the event. Let’s call him Earl. Earl and I were 10 years apart. I was around him a lot during my teenage years. I almost looked up to him. But he was different from me. I didn't want to fight. But he was always ready.

One day Earl took me on a ride and we pulled over by someone's house. He got out of the car and greeted 4 guys that were outside. These were the same 4 guys that caved my head in and stole my games. I guess Earl wanted me to get revenge. I'm sure he would've helped me had I attacked first. But he and I were different. There was no score I wanted to settle, at least not physically.

Earl sat down with them and they started smoking. They had a camaraderie between them, or so it seemed. It was clear that he had known these guys before I had met them. I stayed in the car, scared and tried to cover my eyes with my hat. I was very uncomfortable. How could my cousin be getting high with the same guys that beat and robbed me? The thought of being dead felt better than being anywhere near what was happening.

Soon after, Earl walked back to the car. He told me if I didn’t get out of the car, I’d have to walk home. So I got out of the car. My anxiety was through the roof. I walked with him over to the guys. Their reaction to me wasn’t of any malice. They just showed that they remembered me, almost perking up. I guess beating me up and robbing me was child's play to them. They clearly didn’t take it seriously. I shook their hands and swallowed my pride and morals. Now we were all hanging out as if we were friends. This was the most fraudulent thing I’ve ever done. But then again, these same guys had ambushed me. And now my older cousin, just like my friend at the time of the assault, wasn’t helping me either.

Another week or so went by. I was with Earl at his house playing video games. Like I mentioned earlier, we'd be together a lot and I almost looked up to him. So we went back to regularly scheduled programming - never mind the humiliation he had just put me through. Clearly he had wanted me to fight those guys again. But he knew that wasn't like me. It gets even worse.

Another friend of mine was with us playing video games as well. He lived downstairs from Earl. Earl then told him the whole storyline of what had happened: from getting robbed, to covering my eyes in the car, to shaking the guys’ hands. He even said he “wanted to beat the flames out of me” for covering my face in the car. The same person I loved to be around humiliated me once again. At this moment, I wanted to be deceased.

Later on in life I would spiral due to Earl’s emotional abuse. I would get angry and push others away. I almost failed a college semester as I started to embody hate, a product of pain and suffering. There was no light for me to focus on.

Being outcasted for not wanting to fight was one situation. There's many others that I haven't forgiven my cousin Earl for yet. A friend from college said I should talk to him about it. This has yet to happen.