


What It's Like

by Bloody Phoenix



Category: Zoids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2004-06-04
Updated: 2004-06-06
Packaged: 2013-07-28 22:14:09
Rating: K+
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,579
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/1893849/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/331705/Bloody-Phoenix
Summary: Finished! The futures of the Blitz Team as i see them. Based off of a song with the same title. Not exactly a songfic. PG for language in song lyrics. Very depressing, or so my reviewers say.





	1. Chapter 1

Yeah, thanks everyone for the dozens of reviews I received for my last piece, I really appreciate that. [sarcasm (if any of you are too stupid to figure it out)] but I wasn't really expecting any so... yeah... it's all the same to me. I'll write one way or another. Well here's more crap if anyone is reading this. Based on the song "What it's like" by Everlast. Not exactly a songfic... but something else. Each chapter will be started with a clip form the song.  
  
**What It's Like**

We've all seen a man at the liquor store beggin' for your change  
The hair on his face is dirty, dread-locked, and full of mange  
He asks a man for what he could spare, with shame in his eyes  
"Get a job you fucking slob," is all he replies  
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes  
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues

The clouds blocked out the sun. The rain poured down. Along the street, walked one solitary figure, pushing a shopping cart before him. He was dressed in a coat that might have once been blue. It was now grey. The whole man was grey. From the torn, grey tennis shoes, the laces paralyzed from dirt and grime that had accumulated over the years. To the pants, once Khaki, now grey. Duct tape covered several holes. The legs of the pants stopping several inches above the man's ankles. Brad Hunter's face was also grey and filled with wrinkles. There were some burn marks. His eyes were still blue, but barely. Despite the color, they lacked life. His hair had grown even longer. It now stuck together, forming a coarse surface that couldn't be called hair. His calloused hands tightly gripped the shopping cart as he advanced down the street. 

The cart contained a greenish-grey blanket. Several insects crawled over it. There was also a gallon jug in there. There were a few pennies in the bottom. And a piece of cardboard with some scribbled letters on it: "No job. No food. Please donate money. God Bless." The last thing it contained was a shopping bag filled with scraps of food. Germ infested, rotten meat. Moldy bread. Things found in gutters and trash cans.

Not many people were on the street. A police car sat at the red light. A woman and her daughter passed Brad. He tapped the woman on the shoulder and held out the gallon jug. She drew her child close to her and hurriedly walked away. As she turned around Brad held up his middle finger in the air.

The cop tackled him straight to the ground and began to beat him with a nightstick. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Again and again. Brad cried out. Finally the man stopped. He grabbed Brad by the collar and hoisted him up.

"I don't wanna see you on this street again. Understand?"

Brad meekly nodded. The cop through him back onto the concrete walked back to his car, got in and drove away. Brad gathered himself up and limped down the street with the cart. He came to an alley and turned into it. Some other bums were in the alley. Some were picking through garbage. Some were asleep. Most were simply sitting down staring at the walls with a glazed expression. All these older beggars growled at the sight of the young newcomer. Brad turned the cart around and headed back out. Suddenly, a hand dived into the cart, fished out the gallon jug and ran, all in the space of two seconds. Brad saw a figure running down the alley. Oh well. There wasn't much anyway.

He had been too selfish with money before. This is where it had gotten him. One hacked credit account and it was all gone... he could've gone back and asked Doc or Bit or someone for help. But foolish pride wouldn't let him. It had been some years after the breakup of the team when he had lost it all. They were probably all successful by now. He couldn't do it.  
  
Then you really might know what it's like...

Then you really might know what it's like...

Then you really might know what it's like...

Then you really might know what it's like...  
  
Author's notes: It was really short. But then again, how much can you really say about beggars?Next chapter: Bit and Leena. Although if you've heard the song you already probably know what happens...


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, second chapter already. First off, super special thanks to Kegger007 who reviewed 'Ready'. Then another super special thanks to Rae who reviewed the last chapter of this. And a double super special thanks to Steam Detective for reviewing both. And Knuckles can have a doggy biscuit... cause I'm a nice guy.  
  
**What It's Like**

**Chapter Two**  
  
Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom that said he was in love  
He said, "Don't worry about a thing, baby doll  
I'm the man you've been dreaming of"  
But three months later he say he won't date her or return her calls  
And she swear, "Goddamn, if I find that man I'm cuttin' off his balls"  
And then she heads for the clinic and  
She gets some static walking through the door  
They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner, and they call her a whore  
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in her shoes  
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to choose

"Bit. I don't know if I'm ready for this." "Relax babe, relax, you know you want to"  
  
Twelve weeks later:  
  
Leena was a wreck. She ran a comb through her hair, trying to sort out the tangles. She still looked awful. She put on a hooded sweatshirt to hide it. It was raining anyway. She got out of the chair and started for the door. She stopped and turned around. She reached for the phone and then decided not to. Her right ear was still uncomfortably warm from using it last. She had hardly put it down in days. Each time, each defeat, she would hang up and call again. Just in case. Just in case something changed and there was still ha chance for this story to have a happy ending. She grabbed it anyway and hit the redial. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four. Five. A click. "Hey, it's Bit. Leave a message." A beep. Leena kept the phone to her ear. Maybe he would pick up. Of course not. She slammed it down. She knew he was there. Probably with another cheap prostitute. And he knew it was her. So he didn't pick up and kept on at what he was doing. He knew it would be her, begging him to move reconsider. To move in with her. To help. They could raise their child when it was born. Like any other family in the world. And she wouldn't have to make this choice. Well. It was already made. What other option was there?

Leena slumped in a chair and put her head in her hands. She began to softly cry. She never wanted this. She still hadn't told her father. She hadn't told anyone. She wanted someone to confide to. Jamie wouldn't help. He would probably tell her dad for her, seeing it as the honest thing to do. She was ashamed to tell Brad. She could see him looking down on her. She had thought about telling Leon. But she couldn't. She knew he didn't need this. There was no one.

She wiped at her eyes and got up. She closed the door to her apartment and locked it. Then she walked down the stairs and through the door of the building. Outside she walked through the complex. Building by ugly, rotten building. Small children were outside in the rain, playing in the puddles, torn clothes on their backs, and dirt on their cheeks. She could see the forlorn faces of their parents through the cracked windows watching their sons and daughters. Souls like hers. Miserable souls. She made it out of the complex and onto the main street.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper; carefully she folded it out and checked the address written in scribbled handwriting. It was nearly a mile to the clinic. Leena made it their without any incident along the way. She had wished otherwise; anything that would allow her to escape the tortures of her own mind. She believed this was wrong. She knew this was wrong. But she was going to hell anyway.

She stopped outside the clinic. There was a moderate crowd outside, waving banners and signs. Many of them showed pictures of a fetus at different stages. Others simply sported large angry slogans. Some people went as far as scribbling graffiti on the walls. Someone hurled a stone at a window. It shattered and rained glass. As she tried to make her way to the door, a woman grabbed her arm and yelled at her.

"Murderer!" People turned around and stared.

"Sinner!"

"Killer!"

Tears began running down Leena's face. She tried to make her way to the doors. People jostled her away.

"Please, let me through." She said quietly. No one listened. Unable to stand it, Leena turned and fled. She ran back the way she came. She couldn't even get an abortion. She ran until she her sides ached. She began to fall over and caught herself on the brick wall. Leena gasped for breath. She stayed there for twenty minutes. At last, she composed herself and walked back home.

Once in her apartment she opened a drawer in the kitchen and reached for a sharp knife. She rolled up her sleeves and put it to the tender skin on her wrist. She didn't move. She urged herself to rip the blade across the flesh. She didn't. She waited. She couldn't kill herself. She couldn't do it.

Then you really might know what it's like...

Then you really might know what it's like...

Then you really might know what it's like...

Then you really might know what it's like...

Author's notes: And that's that. I'm not even sure how well this turned out cause right now it's three somethin in the morning, I've had an exhausting day and figure i might as well put this up regardles. Next chapter: the fate of Jamie! 


	3. Chapter 3

I've seen a rich man beg  
I've seen a good man sin  
I've seen a tough man cry  
I've seen a loser win  
And a sad man grin  
I heard an honest man lie  
I've seen the good side of bad  
And the downside of up  
And everything between  
I licked the silver spoon  
Drank from the golden cup  
And smoked the finest green  
I stroked the fattest dimes at least a couple of times  
Before I broke their heart  
You know where it ends, yo', it usually depends on where you start  
  
Last chapter. Writing this has been a nice mood lifter. Super special thanks to Steam Detective and Paladin Dragon for reviewing the last chapter. Also. Doubtless, in a few days, 'Ready' will go off the first page. So if you haven't read it, it would be nice if you did. No pressure. And if you have some time, please find someone who would be interested to read and review these. I can't write on pure adrenaline. I need some reviews.  
  
**What It's Like **

**Chapter Three**  
  
I knew this kid named Max  
Who used to get fat stacks out on the corner with drugs  
He liked to hang out late  
He liked to get shit-faced and keep the pace with thugs  
Until late one night there was a big old fight and Max lost his head  
He pulled out his chrome .45, talked some shit and wound up dead  
Now his wife and his kids are caught in the midst of all of this pain  
You know it comes that way  
At least that's what they say when you play the game  
God forbid you ever had to wake up to hear the news  
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to lose  
  
Jamie's head was spinning. His vision was blurry. We tripped several times up the stairs. He made it to the red door and fiddled with the knob. When it wouldn't open he began to bang on the door, chipping more paint off. Finally, the lock clicked open and the door swung inside. Jamie collapsed onto his wife. Pierce could smell the alcohol on his breath. She supported him to the couch and let him collapse onto the cushions. Then she stepped outside the doorway and looked into the hall. Several neighbors had peeked out to see what was causing the noise at this ungodly hour. Pierce shut the door as quietly as possible and locked it. She turned around and heard the children crying. She sighed and went into the bedroom. She bent over and reached her hands into the crib to pick them up and comfort them. Ten minutes later, she laid them back down. Then she prepared to climb back into her sleeping bag on the floor. The apartment had only one bedroom so she slept with the children. Jamie would sleep on the couch in the living room. As she got in, she heard Jamie's voice coming from the living room.  
  
"C'mere!" He almost shouted. Pierce walked into the room exhaustingly. "Wh- what time is it?" he demanded, his voice quivering from the alcohol. Pierce knew there was a clock right in front of him, but he was probably too drunk to tell.  
  
"It's four thirty."  
  
Silence. Pierce turned around to return to the bedroom.  
  
"Hang on. I-I need you to help me get something." Pierce sighed again and went back. Jamie instructed her to reach into his pocket and pull out the orange pill container. Pierce stalled for a moment. Then she made up he rmind.  
  
"No."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I said no."  
  
Jamie unsteadily got up. He maintained his balance to face her.  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you? I told you to get them!" he screamed at her. Pierce could hear the children waking up again.  
  
"Shh..."  
  
"Don't tell me what to do!" Jamie slammed his fist into his wife's face. She fell over onto the ground. He kicked out at her. Pierce began to weep. Without a further word, Jamie went to the door and managed to unlock it. He opened it, walked out, and slammed it shut. He didn't need this, he told himself. He leaned against the wall and fumbled around in his pocket. He managed to get the pills out. He popped open the container and dumped the entire contents into his hand. Several capsules spilled over. As quickly as he good, he popped the half-handful into his mouth and swallowed them. He leaned against the wall for a few more minutes. Finally, they kicked in. He could feel his head clear of alcohol and started feeling very energetic. There were still a few hours left of the night. He'd fins something to do. He walked away.  
  
Back inside, Pierce had gotten up. She put an icepack over the entire left side of her face and returned to her room. This wasn't the first time he had hit her. There was a clothes drawer in the corner. On top of it was a picture. It showed Pierce and Jamie holding hands on their wedding night. They had been married for seven months. He was only twenty now. They had gotten married because there wasn't any other choice, after Pierce had gotten pregnant. But they really did love each other. She recalled how much he had cared for her back then. She had cared for him too. And she still did. Despite the beatings, the drug addictions, the gang involvement she still loved him. Because this wasn't him. She hated this, but she knew this wasn't Jamie so she put up with it. Jamie had always wanted to fit in. He wanted to join the crowd. Two months after the wedding he had become a part of a local street gang. Then he began messing around his drugs and alcohol. All this to fit in. Just to be cool. She had thought about getting help, but she didn't want to. This... man embarrassed her. He hurt her, but she could live with that. It was the shame that was killed her. But she knew that this wasn't the real Jamie. It would pass and they could live happily ever after. She only thanked God that his former team mates didn't know. They were all living normal lives right now.  
  
Jamie walked down the street. The rain wasn't pouring but was still drizzling. His brain was still buzzing from the pills, but he could still think. Just barely, but enough... when he wasn't doing drugs, life seemed to lose all purpose. He needed them. He- 'Get a grip on yourself Jamie!' he thought. 'Look at yourself!' On the other hand what was so wrong about it? No. He had to back out. From all of it. Enough was enough. After tonight he would stop. Stop everything. Just after tonight.  
  
Jamie turned into an alley where about a dozen other figures were standing and leaning against the walls.  
  
"What's up?" he asked. A tall, lean young man walked up to him.  
  
"There's gonna be a fight in ten minutes. You in?"  
  
Jamie considered the promise he had made to himself. Then he remembered that he had already decided to keep on for just tonight.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm in." In a few minutes, the gang walked out of the alley and down the street. Eventually the came to an old playground, they went out onto the black top and waited. Another gang showed up after several minutes. The two leaders stepped forward. After a brief discussion they stepped back. The tall, lean man gave the group a signal. Knives and guns were drawn. Jamie pulled a handgun from another one of his pockets. The fight started abruptly. Jamie quickly fired at the other group. He smiled to himself as a younger member from the other side went down. He didn't look any older than fifteen. The man next to him turned and with a look of horror stared at his fallen comrade. He knelt down and examined the bullet wound. Slowly he rose up and glared at Jamie. Jamie smiled and began to taunt him. Without warning the man pulled out his own gun and shot three times at Jamie. Jamie felt each bullet bury itself inside him. He crumpled onto the ground.  
  
The man was already over next to Jamie. He pulled out a knife. Struggling with the pain Jamie tilted his head up to study the instrument. He felt it being run through his leg and then again in his arm. Each time, the blood- stained blade plunged, Jamie screamed. He had wanted to quit. This time the blade was run ripped through his other leg. He shouldn't have come. He saw the knife being raised over his neck. This was the price he paid. For trying to be something he wasn't. His thoughts turned to Pierce. What would she do when she saw the report of his death? He had wanted to back out. He really had. But he couldn't.  
  
Then you really might know what it's like  
  
Then you really might know what it's like  
  
Then you really might know what it's like to have to lose

Author's notes: I'm gonna have to take a look at this tomorrow. I may rewrite this. Or change some things. Right now I can't change it though. So i'll put it up as it is. Anyway. So did you notice that each chapter ended with 'He couldn't' or 'She couldn't' that was pretty pointless. But it kind of tied the stories together. Whatever works.


End file.
