Jamie Sproull
It was an old friend of mine who I knew worked for the Westland crime syndicate. That was who introduced me to this life. I had just lost my job, and I was through all of my savings, but I was tempted with the promise of more money than I would ever need. I sure got that, there was truth in that promise. The problem was what I was doing to get that money. At first I was just the driver for jobs that higher-ranking people went on, but then I was promoted to be on the jobs themselves. I have done terrible things; I’ve killed, tortured, sold drugs and guns, just about anything I was asked to do. I made enough money to set my family up for the rest of their lives, but sadly, it also led me to where I am now. Bleeding out on the floor of an abandoned warehouse, likely to never be found. The only comfort I have right now as I fade out is that I made sure my family would be alright. That’s one of the only good things I’ve done in a long time. That’s the last good thing that matters.
Author’s Note:
Jamie is a third year Oberlin student who had never done much creative writing before this class. This class was a sort of enlightenment on what he could possibly do with the power of words. He will likely continue to do some writing on the side even with if he has no class to write for.