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I woke up at 10:52 and Brian was gone, as usual. I looked at the date on Brian's phone because I didn't know what the date was. "June 29th. . . ." I read, then broke into a huge smile, "It's my muthafrikin birthday! YEAAAH!" I started fist pumpin like I was on friggin Jersey Shore. I got dressed and ran to the cafeteria. I saw Brian and James sitting at a table, "It's my birthday, guys!" I said happily. "Happy birthday, kid." James said with a mouthful of bubble gum. "Happy birthday, man! 15, huh?" Brian gave me a high five. I smiled, "Yup! Doesn't feel any different from being 14." Jenny and Johnny came up to me, "Happy birthday! Didn't have a birthday present, so I'll just give you a hug!" Jenny hugged me, Johnny looked uncomfortable with her doing that. Johnny spoke up, "Anyways, I didn't have a birthday present, soooo. . ." Johnny grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. "Here's an apple." Johnny tossed it to me. I caught it and took a bite out of it. "Thanks! I gotta get back to the dorm, I'm gonna go grab something." I said as I walked away. When I got to my dorm, a big package was on my bed. It had my name on it, so it was for me. It had a letter attached to the top, I picked it up and read it:
If you are reading this then you must be fifteen years old. I wish I could have been there for you, like a good father should. As you may know, I am a bounty hunter. As much as I wanted to be there with your mother and you, my job couldn't allow that. This box is filled with my possesions that I am passing down to you. I am forced to give you my treasured belongings. There is a card in this box. My agency wants you to work for them, take my place once I die. This is your choice, Gregory. I would never want you to live the life I had to, but it's not my choice. It's yours.
From your loving father,
Vincent Gregory Ryder
I was absolutely shocked. I ripped open the package and looked inside. I picked up a picture of my dad with my mom, and a baby in his arms, which must have been me. My dad's face looked almost exactly like mine, except he had scars on his face. His eyes looked tired and his face looked worn and weather beaten. I had his hair and his eyes. I put the photograph on my nightstand. I looked inside and was horrified at what I found. I found a .32 caliber pistol! I put it back in the box, pretending I didn't find it. I found a Liberty City Warriors t-shirt with team signatures on it. I found a necklace made of bear teeth, shark teeth, and string. I put it around my neck and felt like a bad ass, like my dad must have been. I found a pair of aviators sunglasses and put them on with a big smirk. And the last thing I found it there, was the card. It said:
Call this number: 948-555-9734
I put the card in my pocket and hid the pistol under my mattress. I put the signed t-shirt in my wardrobe pushed the box to the side of the room. I couldn't tell anybody, they would think I'm crazy! Worse, they would spread the word to everybody. I can't tell anybody. I went to a pay phone and punched in the number. "Hello, Doug Manning Offices?" the person on the other line speaking. I spoke, "Hello. This is Greg Ryder. "
TO BE CONTINUED. . . . .