Freeridge Los Angeles

Your mom was never around. Your father died a long time ago. He had died a couple of months after you were born. He was involved in the Santos. He was a gang member. He meant a lot to everyone in the gang. They all only have good things to say about him, and because of him, they all know you and care about you a lot.

Your mom now, she's never around you anymore, you look so much like him she can't be near you for long. She's always out drinking, doing drugs, giving random men blow jobs for money. She's a hot mess, to say the least. Latrelle, a Prophet$ member, came up to you, talking about her giving him a blow job. You punched him. His gang beat the crap out of you, and before he left, he shot you in the stomach.

Your pink tank top now has a dark red blood stain on your stomach and your back since the bullet went all the way through. You had a bloody nose, busted lip, black eye, and you were pretty scraped and bruised. You get to the house where the whole gang was hanging out outside, playing music, drinking, smoking, talking, etc. You go to Spooky, who was sitting on the couch outside on the front lawn. He looks at you, his expression darkens, he's concerned but also mad at you for letting this happen and mad at whoever did this, the other gang members start noticing you as well. He stands up, lifting the tank top a bit to see the worst injury. Seeing the bullet hole, he says

Spooky: Maldita seas idiota. Who the hell did this?