Boy Who Cried Wolf (Modern)

There are three things in life you should know about the streets;

1: Don't rely on others.
2: Don't lose your respect.
3: DON'T LIE.

I used to belong to the hardest street gang out there. Everyone was scared of us yet everyone wanted to join. That's why we were called 'The Flock', since they either flocked away from us or flocked to us. Only one gang ever stood up to us. Wolf.

"I've done it!" Ram roared, "I set their cars alight!" Cheers went up as the crowd of shaved heads and beanie caps moved towards Ram, congratulating him on such a feat. To single-handedly sabotage Wolf's vehicles earned a hero's praise.

With a jokey grin and a hand of mockery, Shep shook hands with the hero of the day. He towered over Ram, clearly the strongest of the gang and their leader, wearing shades darker than the night and a face lighter than the day. Shep's goal was the take Wolf down a peg or two; a gang doesn't mess around with the best and the best was The Flock.

There was a bleat of content as The Flock returned to their back-alley in which was their usual pen. The night was young and it was time to party over their victory. Alcohol was spread, as was the love, around the oil drum fire that Shep conjured up.

Shep knew this was to be a short-lived victory when Wolf discovered their transportation alight, but it could easily be a long-lived victory if Wolf dared attack them. After all, The Flock was the best in New York.

Taking it upon himself, Shep scouted the streets whilst his gang partied, perusing the run-down establishments for any signs of stray Wolves. Then an amusing thought sprung into Shep's mind that resembled his sadistic nature.

Frenzied shouts of bedlam ricocheted down the alleyway as Shep thundered into hearing before his body was even seen in its lightning speed.

"WOLF!" He roared, as loud as his lungs could muster. The Flock swiftly smashed open their bottles of alcohol, ready to use as an offensive weapon, guns whipped from belts and knives swivelled from pockets. A smile came from the worn-out face of the wheezing leader and then the words "Fooled you" soon followed.

Anger and disgust came from The Flock as their own leader had tricked them. Some smiled at the practical joke whilst others turned their attention away to wash out their adrenalin with beer.

The night partied on in that alley and after several swigs of the precious grass ale; Shep had waddled back to the end of the alley to peer out for any foolish Wolf members.

Barely a few seconds passed before Shep's wicked mind flung into gear, giving a loud gasp and turning around without a moment's hesitation. The familiar words echoed through the pen like an arrow shot sharply from its bow and piercing everyone's attention.

"Where's the Wolf?" gave an angry reply after minutes of everyone looking at the end of the alley. Shep lifted his head from his hunched over and out-of-breath state and repeated his past sentence.

"Fooled you."

No one smiled that time. No one had any respect left. Shep lost his respect as the shepherd of The Flock.

Smiling, Shep went down to the end of the alley to possibly get a bite to eat, but no sooner did he step out of that alley was there a cry of hatred towards him. Not from The Flock, but from Wolf.

"There's that fool who leads 'em!" belted out Craig Wolf, the leader of the opposing gang, but only Shep heard out of The Flock.

As Wolf raced towards him, knives ready and roars aplenty, Shep raced down the alley and shouted at the top of his lungs the same word that brought him so much joy before.

"WOLF!"

This time there was no joy. Everyone ignored him. Not even one person turned their attention away from their drink, their flirting and their bleating of songs. No one.

The raced down the alley and jumped on The Flock with little effort at all, for 'the best' simply was not ready to engage a whole gang with none of their own weapons ready. A brutal bloodbath sung into the night sky as the Wolves tore apart The Flock.

But the one left for Shep was Craig Wolf, himself.

"You did this to yourself!" Craig yelled, after having smashed Shep in the gut and against the graphitised wall.

It was true. Shep had caused this all to happen to himself. Maybe not from his plans of setting fire to their cars, but in his mind from having lied one too many times about such a serious matter.

Craig Wolf held Shep's head to watch the brutal beating of his own gang. The best. Taken down. By Wolf.

There was no solace after one member escaped the slaughter; his dark skin covered in blood. He turned back to see Shep alone, but then ran on, deciding not to help a liar.

Then they all turned on Shep. All of them. No one to help him but his own anguish. After a snarl of pack, the hyena laugh of Craig and the hunger of a coyote, Shep was killed.

**********

That survivor is me; Cloud. I decided not to help someone who ain't got no respect 'cause of his own actions. All I know is The Flock has been eaten.

"You're under arrest of property damage and felony of lying to an officer." The stiff officer simply states in front of my eyes. Two other offices grab me by my arms.

I ain't done nothink!

"Your gang jacket name says RAM on the back, not Cloud. You caused the damage of those cars and lied to us about your name." He nods to his comrades to take me away.

Shiz.

"That's the kind of thing that happens to those who lie - even when they tell the truth, no one believes them."