SCOTT KELLY .:

       

Hard Times. Chapter 1.

Posted: December 12, 2008


 We had to go meet +++++ +++’s cousin, Zero, at a hotel in East Oakland, I don’t think I can really remember exactly where. I don’t want too know anymore. We had been running pretty hard over the last month or so, at war with ghosts. Paranoid, violent, overly alert, theoretical, deprived,and depraved. Over the last few hours it had seemed to me as if the clouds and the night were going to bring us to a new darkness. I was right, but it’s hard to tell what you think when you don’t sleep and you’re living off of red meat, speed, and beer. We got to the hotel as the sun was going down.


 I’m always that I can handle a potentially violent situation, but when I was with  +++++ +++  I always felt that much better. He was a proven guy in a scrap and we were always tooled up. I don’t think it would have mattered who or what I was with on this night nothing could have made this scene good. Nothing could have prepared my senses. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.


 Zero was a casper. A white Vato. Norteno. Hardcore crankster who would shoot his guns indiscrimenately. He didn’t give a fuck at all. Always ready to die. I went to high school with a bunch of Vatos and they had no hesitation ever. A pure culture of death. You have to respect it. And you have to expect it.


 Just before we hit the stairs on the way to the second floor hotel room we smelled it. It was an unbelievably think and acrid smell and it got deeper with each step. I had never smelled anything quite like this, but my immediate association was with death. I had had a next door neighbor die and rot undiscovered for a couple of weeks a few summers previous to this, and this was akin to that. My brain told me to run. My heart trudged onward. There was no part of me that thought that this smell was coming from anywhere but our destination. I knew it and so did +++++ +++. 


 We knocked on the door to the room and Zero answered it quickly and silently. The wave of doom washed over us. The smell was absolutely overpowering… blood, death, ether, gasoline, gun powder so many combined smells I couldn’t put it together until I caught a glimpse from the crack in the bathroom door…