Dance with the Devil

These Days I am so engaged in producing Books; I have no time to write Blogs. Regardless I still have to keep my readers engaged. Here are excerpts from one of my upcoming projects. My second Book, “Through Her Eyes; Revised is slowly making it’s way to the Publisher. The reason for that is, I can’t decide how much I want to spend on the publishing fanfare. Anyway I’m busy with the next one, “A good age to Die”
Excerpts ..

Chapter Twelve: Dance with the Devil

My journey through the labyrinth of waywardness began at the tender age of eight, an innocent child thrust into a world where shadows whispered tales of rebellion and chaos. Raised in the heart of a tumultuous neighborhood, my path veered away from the conventional, paving the way for a life that would be etched in the dark annals of juvenile delinquency.

In those early years, my actions were guided by the untamed spirit of youth, an unbridled energy that manifested in reckless pursuits and alliances with those who sought solace in the margins of society. The streets became my classroom, the lessons harsh and unforgiving, and the curriculum written in the language of survival. On the streets you face conflicts daily, they come at you like bad weather.

By the age of fourteen, I found myself entangled in conflicts that defied the bounds of adolescence. A fateful encounter with a junior gangster became a crucible that tested not only my physical prowess but also the depths of my resolve. In a brawl that echoed with the primal cries of desperation, I faced grown men and this junior gangster, a faceless embodiment of the chaotic world I had willingly embraced.

As the dust settled and the groans of defeat echoed in the alley, I realized the gravity of my actions. The beaten gangster lay at my feet, a stark reminder that the dance with the devil had consequences far beyond the immediate triumph. Little did I know that this junior gangster was merely a pawn in a perilous game; his two older brothers, seasoned gunmen with blood-stained hands, emerged from the shadows of the criminal underworld.

The revelation sent shivers down my spine, for in my victory, I had unwittingly challenged forces far more potent and perilous than the juvenile conflicts I had grown accustomed to. The realization that my reckless pursuit of dominance could have led me to the precipice of becoming entangled in murders, whether conscious or unintentional, gripped my soul with a chilling awareness.

My journey through the dark alleys and tumultuous streets became a dance with the devil, a series of encounters that tested the very fabric of my existence. Life hung in limbo, suspended between the choices I made and the consequences that loomed ominously on the horizon. The thin line separating survival from demise became my constant companion, and each step I took resonated with the echoes of a past that threatened to engulf me.

In the midst of this turbulent odyssey, my mother’s words echoed through the chaos — a repetitive refrain that I carried like a burden on my shoulders. She spoke of the devil within me, a malevolent force that fueled my rebellion and defied the norms of societal conduct. And yet, in the midst of this darkness, a paradox emerged — divine intervention, a force that favored me in ways I could not comprehend.

As I reflect upon the tumultuous years of my wayward youth, I recognize the pivotal role that grace played in steering me away from the abyss. The times I should not have lived seven scores over were a testament to a providence that watched over me, guiding me through the shadows with an unseen hand. Reminding me that you can face anything life throws at you with God on your side.

Telling my story becomes the road to redemption, a cathartic journey through the echoes of a life lived on the edge. It is an acknowledgment of the choices made and the forces that sought to claim me, juxtaposed against the divine thread that wove its way through the tapestry of my existence. The dance with the devil becomes a narrative of resilience, transformation, and the unwavering belief that redemption is not a destination but a continuous journey towards the light, guided by the merciful hand of a benevolent force that saw fit to favor a wayward soul like mine.