Author name: TheGeneral

Adriana This is the story of Adriana Grisalez. But before I tell you who she was, I need to tell you who I was—because the version of me before I met her would change forever. I was born in 1968 and grew up in Hackney, London—one of the roughest neighbourhoods in the UK at that time. By 13, I had already learned a rule of survival: don’t look people in the eyes. If you stared too long, someone would bark, “What you looking at?” Then you had two choices—look away and be branded a pussy, or hold your ground and be ready to fight. I don’t know how many fights I had as a kid, but fists were the language of the streets. At school, in your neighbourhood, there was always a pecking order. If you could fight, you earned respect. If you couldn’t, you became the target—robbed, beaten, humiliated. I had no brothers or sisters to guide me, so I figured it out myself: fight hard, hurt them bad, and the less I’d have to fight again. Life on Kingshold Estate was no movie, but if you’ve ever seen Rise of the Footsoldier, that’s the environment. Drugs, crime, violence—it wasn’t glamorous. It was just normal. From my perspective, I had a happy childhood. I learned to defend myself early, and that gave me freedom. Respect was everything for a 14-year-old in Hackney, and by that age, I had it. I wasn’t the best fighter, but I could handle myself, and that was enough. So that’s the foundation. Street smart, streetwise, violent when I had to be, but still a nice guy. I smoked weed, DJ’d with my own sound system, and lived happy-go-lucky—until someone crossed me. Then it was fist-first, no hesitation. That was me in a nutshell. When I was 16, everything shifted. After a fight where I got smashed in the head with a brick and nearly lost an ear, my mum had had enough. She sent me to Canada to live with my dad. But Canada felt slow, backwards. I hated it. I got expelled from school, worked a job, and saved enough to repurchase a plane ticket back to the UK. So by Christmas 1987, I was back in London with my friends.And that’s where the real story begins. Part 1:  Meeting Adriana When I got back to the UK, I linked up with my best friend Ricky. He pointed out I was going to need money—he wasn’t wrong. I was 19, broke, and needing to re-establish myself. Ricky helped me land a job in the West End at a restaurant called Take 5—five fast food spots in one. I became a manager, and the first thing I did was hire Ricky to co-manage with me. Life fell into a routine. Every day I’d take the train to work, spend the day laughing with Ricky, pulling pranks, serving food, meeting people, and then ride the train back home. At home, I’d mix music, smoke weed, and practice DJ-ing. Nights were for hanging out with Ricky and a few friends, trading rhymes over dancehall, smoking weed, and living carefree. That was my rhythm. Until one day, on the train ride home, everything changed. I noticed a girl sitting across from me. She seemed to be rolling a spliff. I sat down in front of her, and when her eyes met mine, something sparked. I glanced at what she was rolling and said, “You can’t smoke that on here.” She looked up, laughed, and in a heavy European accent said, “No weed, no weed.” I leaned in and asked, “Do you want weed?” Back then, I sold it. She smiled, nodded. “You’ll have to come with me,” I told her. “It’s at my place.” She wore a crystal around her neck. I had a cross-chain. She reached out, touched my chain, then placed my hand on her crystal. Looking straight into my eyes, she asked in broken English, “Can I trust you?” Something about her gaze—it felt like she was looking straight into my soul. “Yes,” I said. “You can trust me.” She got off the train with me. I didn’t know where she was headed, but she followed me. Ricky and my friends split off, and I walked with her the twenty minutes back to my house. On the way, I taught her simple English words. Her name was Adriana. Her English was poor, but we tried. When we got to my place, I gave her the weed I’d promised—no charge. I was too intrigued. She asked for a notepad, and when I handed it to her, she started drawing. First, a boat. Then land. Then more pictures. That was how we spoke—through drawings. Piece by piece, she told me her story without words. She had been born in Colombia, kidnapped at age four while shopping with her mother, and taken across the sea to Germany. There, she was sold into a trafficking ring. She had been used for sex ever since. At seventeen, she tried to escape. At eighteen, she tried again. Each time they found her. But now, at twenty-one, she had escaped once more. She was in England, searching for a way back to Colombia, to find her mother. That was her only mission in life. That was our first conversation.That was the first day I met Adriana. It got late that first night, so I walked Adriana home. She lived about forty minutes from my house. Back then, I walked everywhere—buses weren’t my thing unless it was far. On the way, we practised her English. I dropped her off, then went home. The next day at work, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I felt like I’d just met the most beautiful woman on Earth. Her skin was light, her hair wild and black, her presence unforgettable. My mind kept replaying the drawings, her story, and that feeling when her eyes met mine. As soon as my shift ended,

The Legend named Pablo Part 1   Friday 11:30 p.m. 11th November 2005 Axe FM studio It was just another Friday night at the Axe FM studio, we streamed Live from about 3 p.m. until 11:00 p.m. every night. We had to cut off at 11:00 because of sound pollution laws, and we did not want any of the neighbours to petition to get our studio shut down. We were located in Elstree Gardens just off Bounces Road in Edmonton Green. The stretch was known as the Murder Mile because of how many people had been murdered in the area. Every night that Pablo left me in charge of the studio overnight, he’d always say “Don’t get caught slipping,” to remind me, we were in a bad area. The studio had been up and running since January, and we were now in our 10th month, moving from strength to strength, with about 1000 viewers for the entire month of January to now well over 60,000 each month since July. Things were looking perfect. The last two DJs for the night had finished their set, Pablo was shutting down the live feed, and I was on my computer still working on our business plan. Where my computer was located, if you picture a square room, the door at the top middle, and the square divided into two, the bottom half then divided into two, so this square now has three sections, a whole half at the top, and two quarters at the bottom, the quarter on the left was our storage, the quarter on the right our Live streaming room, outside, the wall on the right, from the streaming room to the door was our studio equipment, the wall on the left from the storage room to the door, a couch for guests to lounge. From outside to enter our studio, there was first an iron gate you had to pull open, then a heavy fire door you needed to push open, It swung to the left, and my computer was right behind that door, so if you came in, you would need to close that door before you see me. Pablo was in the streaming room switching off the cameras and the two DJs were sitting on the couch behind me. I was busy working, not paying attention to anyone in the studio, I wanted to get this business plan done and dusted, I noticed the fire door was opened, It blocked my view of the DJs behind me. I heard Pablo’s voice, “What do you want, what do you want?” Then his voice raised “arr leave it out, guys!” His tone and sound made me look up, I saw a masked gunman with his gun in Pablo’s face. It never really computed what was happening, I stood up, and the gunman’s eyes widened when he saw me, “LOOK!” he shouted to his accomplice, we could not see each other because of the fire door. His accomplice shut the door and trained his gun on me, he kept switching his focus between me and the two DJs on the couch, I heard my mouth saying “Leave it out, guy I’ve got a son” I don’t know why I said that, but after I spoke, his gun remained pointed at me. Meanwhile, Pablo was arguing with the other gunman, “What you want? Cause we ain’t got no cash, what you want?” Three months ago month Zainab Kalako, a mother from west London was shot in her head as she cradled her baby, these were the thoughts going through my mind, I looked at Pablo, I saw him glance at me, I looked at my gunman, his pistol now inches from my face, I remembered the woman shot in the head last month, my only thought was, ‘my son, he is not going to know me, he won’t know who I am or how much I love him’ then I closed my eyes and waited for the BANG! How did I end up here? 37 years old with a gun in my face waiting for the Bang. Here is my story. Every once in a while a real-life living legend walks on this Earth, they will eat and drink with us, laugh and cry with us, they may look like one of us on the outside, but on the inside, there is something deep, profound and special that sets them apart from all of us. I want to dedicate this writing to the only Legend I have ever had the honour and privilege of knowing up close and personal. Paul Stewart, aka, Axeman Pablo MC.

The Kudo Knights CHAPTER ONE: WHO ARE ‘THE KUDO KNIGHTS’? Episode One: Thursday 3rd August It was Josh’s 19th birthday, and he had just passed his driving test earlier that day. His dad had promised him that if he passed, he would buy him a car. Josh had his heart set on a BMW 325i and told his friends that’s what he was getting. So he was a little disappointed when his dad handed him a key that had FORD written on it, and even more disappointed when he looked outside and saw a second hand 1.1ltr Ford Fiesta. Seeing the expression on Josh’s face, his dad said, “Hey, it’s your first car son, and I’m paying your insurance bill. Prove to me you can be responsible with this for a year, and we will see what happens on your next birthday”. Josh’s had moved to live with his dad (name) since his mother died of Cancer a year ago, his dad was a chaufer for high end businessmen and celebrities and got paid a lot of money just to drive people around, he could easily afford the car Josh wanted, but wanted to make sure Josh understood the rules of the road thoroughly first. At least now, Josh finally had his own ride; he could go pick up his friends and drive around town instead of catching the bus. Thursday Evening 18:00 pm Josh went to see his best friend Alex that evening to show off his new car. “Wicked mate, you’re driving now”, said Alex. They looked the car over for all of 2 minutes (not very impressed), then went inside to watch Fast & Furious 8. It was about midnight when Josh left his friend’s house to head home. He was getting used to the feel of the car, driving at the speed limit, checking his mirrors, adjusting the volume of the radio. He decided to take the A10 home, the speed limit on there is 40mph and there are speed camera’s every two miles. As Josh proceeded on the A10, he could hear the sound of tuned engines in the distance but getting closer. He was at another set of red lights; he looked in his rearview mirror and saw the bright headlights of cars at the set of lights behind him. As his lights turned green he heard the roar of tuned engines, the whirl of super charges and the whoosh of turbo dump valves, then in an instant he was surrounded by high performance modified cars, for a split second he was transported into a scene strait from the movie Fast & Furious, at least 15 cars cruised by him doing at least 100mph, then suddenly they all slowed down as they approached the speed camera, then as soon as they were out of range of the speed camera boom they were off again. The whole episode was over in about 10 seconds, but Josh felt like he had been with them for 15 minutes, he noticed every car, every driver, every passenger and he took note of the really beautiful girl driving the blue Nissan Skyline that smiled at him as she drove by, he heard the sound of every engine, the note of every exhaust, the tune of every car stereo that flew by him. That night, when he got home, he could not get this scene out of his mind. Who were these guys? Where did they come from? [1] Friday 4th August The next morning over breakfast, Josh’s dad said he was going away for a week on business, (big celebrity name) was coming to the UK and needed a personal driver for the week. He would be up in Scotland until next weekend. “Take care of the place while I’m gone, son”. Josh and Alex were studying Auto engineering at college together, and along with Ryan, the three spent pretty much all day everyday dreaming about owning their own auto business. Outside of college, they watched football (all three Arsenal fans), played video games, all had part-time jobs and were saving for their first car. But now that Josh had his car there, there seemed to be a little more urgency in the others to get theirs. Josh worked part-time for KFC, taking orders at the drive-through. Alex, who was also 19, lived at home with his mum and worked as a chef at Pizza Hut, and Ryan, who was 20, worked part-time at Kwik Fit and lived by himself in a council flat. That evening after college, Josh drove his new car to work, “What’s all this then, you won the lotto”? said his boss in a patronising tone. “Nah, it’s my birthday present from my dad” “I didn’t know you were old enough to drive” “Very funny” Just put on his earphones and got comfortable in his seat, ready to take orders. The little red light flashed to let him know there was a car outside the order box “Welcome to KFC, can I take your order, please”? “Yeah, can I have a two-piece Colonel’s meal, a Twister, and a Zinger meal, please”? “A two-piece Colonel’s meal, Twister and Zinger meal, that’s $9.99, anything else with your order”? “No, that’s it, thanks” “OK, drive to the next window, please, you can pay there and collect your order” This is how Josh spent every Friday night from 8 pm until midnight. The job was extremely boring, but he got to eat a Colonel’s meal every night for free. Josh could never grow tired of KFC. Midnight, Josh handed his headphones over to Brian, who was taking the graveyard shift at the drive-through, “See you next week, Brian”, Josh said as he gave him the headphones. “What, you’re not coming in tomorrow”? “Nah, it’s my birthday, gonna do something with my friends, not sure what yet” “All the best, have a good one, mate, see ya next week” As Josh walked to his car, he could hear the

THE GARDEN 2003

The Lottery Weekend By Pablo G McKenzieA Script for ICU Online Web TV films Friday As usual, Leroy collected £40 from his work colleagues as he left for the day. This was his Friday evening ritual; he went to the convenience store with his collection of lottery numbers and played £40 worth on the Euro lotto, £5 each from 7 colleagues plus his own £5. He had been doing this for just over two years; that was £520 he had spent in two years, and the most he ever won was £10. As he was leaving work this evening, he was calculating that he and his colleagues had spent over £4000 in two years. There had been a lot of signs this week, which all looked like good luck omens. 1) His boss, Mr Coldham, received a promotion that meant he would be leaving the department. Everyone hated Mr Coldham, who seemed to live up to his name (a cold and impersonal pig was a most fitting description). 2) Everyone in the department would be promoted up one level as a result, which meant Leroy would earn an extra £1000 each year, which only equalled an extra £83 in his salary each month, but hey, it’s better than nothing. 3) His ex-girlfriend finally gave him back his DVD collection, and 4) his bank approved him for his £2.5K loan, which he was going to use to go on holiday this summer. All this good news in one week, and to win the lottery would just be the icing on the cake, estimated jackpot £250 million, the biggest jackpot in history, 15 rollovers in a row, £31 million each if his syndicate won. Leroy leaves the building: “Have a nice weekend, Mr Green. See you Monday.” Lenny, the security guard, greeted everyone as they entered and left the building. He seemed to take a great deal of pride in his job and knew everyone who worked in his building by name.“Hey, you too, Lenny,” Leroy replied. It was a beautiful summers evening, the street was buzzing with people, every Friday Leroy would leave work, buy the lottery, grab a pint of ‘Strong Bow’ at the local bar, order a Chinese then make his way home, over the year he had managed to time it with such perfection he would arrive to his house 1 minute before the delivery driver from the Chinese take away. Then he would put his feet up, watch the sports channel while tucking into his Chinese, and that was about as exciting as Friday evenings got. Just as Leroy was about to cross the road to go to the newsagent’s, he heard a woman’s voice call him.“Hey, Leroy, is that you?”Leroy looked up at this amazingly stunning, beautiful woman standing before him. He didn’t recognise her, but she knew his name.“Yeah, and who are you?”“It’s me, Amanda from high school, we were in the same class”Leroy thought back and remembered a fat little freckled girl with braces on her teeth and national health glasses thicker than magnifying glass lenses; her name was Amanda. No, this could never be the same girl in a million years.“Err, Amanda Dearth?” He said doubtfully“Wow, you remember my last name aswell,” she said, impressed. “You have not changed one bit, you look the same as school days, well, except for the little goatee, I would have recognised you anywhere” Leroy took a step back to admire the masterpiece of human sculpture before his eyes. Her face was immaculate, with no freckles in sight, no glasses, and perfect teeth. Her high cheekbones and lips were so striking that even Angelina Jolie would envy them. Her neck was long and slender, and her shoulders were broad yet elegant. She stood about 5” 5 inches and her hourglass figure curved in all the right places, her long, slender legs looked good enough to suck on, and her feet looked beautiful in her high-heeled stilettos. Leroy was actually dribbling when he said,“Wow, gue lud greally rood” (translation: You look really good)Amanda could only chuckle at Leroy’s response.“So what do you do now?” She askedComposing himself, he replied, “Oh, I work for an insurance firm,” pointing at the building he just came from,“ home, content, car, pets, I just got a promotion this week as well, it’s not bad, pays the bills, etc, what about you? What do you do?”“I own Vertigo Fitness, you know, the gym that picks you up”“Wow, that’s you, I’ve been seeing your ads on TV, you’re, you’re the woman in the TV commercials”“Yeah, that’s me”“But what happened, I mean, in school you were, well, you were,”“Fat and ugly,” Amanda interrupted.“Well, I didn’t want to say that, but well, yeah”“I was studying hard, you know, after high school, I moved to Japan for 6 years. I studied many things. I came back four years ago, and now I have been running Vertigo for two years, and I am only 25.”“Wow,” said Leroy, still looking amazed“Where are you going now? Do you want to see my new gym? We are having the opening party tonight in the Zero Gravity Bar. It starts at 7 pm.”“Well, I had nothing planned, I was just gonna go home, but hey, I will get changed, and I will be there.”“Have you kept in touch with anyone from school days?” asked Amanda“Only Doughnut and Burrell’s,” Leroy replied“Oh my gosh, he’s still called Doughnut, after all these years,” she chuckles,“ what’s his real name?”“I can’t remember, I’ve called him doughnut for so long now, it’s funny even his girlfriend calls him doughnut too.”“Well look, the opening party starts at 8:00 pm its invite only but I will put your name on the door, jacket and tie, no jeans or trainers, this is a corporate event as we are moving into health and beauty media, I will be looking out for you, maybe you can come back to my hotel with me for the after party”The grin on Leroy’s face

Bonyak exited his car and crossed the road; he entered the coffee shop where he had agreed to meet her.

As they sat in the coffee shop and talked he looked into her eyes and was captivated by memories of long ago.