Cheers for the Vodka and Beers

I can't recall when it was that Jet and I became friends. But I found out later that the reason they called him Jet, was because he was always quick to run away from the trouble he'd caused.

We went to the same school together and we’d hang around my estate with Toby. We called him Toby for short, as his last name was Tobberson.

I was only 14 but I soon found out that if I put on a deep voice and acted confident, I could pass for 18 and buy alcohol from the shop.

There wasn’t much to do round my way, there was the park, the shops and a home I didn’t want to be in, so I’d hang out on the streets.

Vodka burns when you drink it, but we’d down it in an effort to get drunk as quickly as possible. I’d welcome any opportunity to escape who I was, someone I hated.

I’m not sure where my self-loathing came from, but I remember drawing pictures for my therapist when I was a child, depicting how I wanted to die.

Jet wanted me around, it was nice to feel wanted and all it ever seemed like I got other places, was a hard time. At school I was bullied every day and at home I was emasculated by a mother who’d manipulate me, in an attempt to bend me to her will.

She was raising 3 kids alone, because she’d decided to have an affair with a married man who wanted nothing to do with us. I felt like a stain he wanted to get rid of and all I yearned for was someone to teach me what it meant to be a man.

Jet was confident, he spoke up for me, so I thought that must be what being a man is about. Although I still lacked confidence, I became very protective of my friends.

I thought very little of myself, but I would stand in front of a bullet for my friends.