Beginning of my Novel

Is this how god intended for me to die? A thousand thoughts raced through my mind in an instant. I pictured my mother at my funeral, crying beside my casket. I pictured my sister weeping, and my brother, who went everywhere with me as I performed around the country. What would he do without me? I always believed in my heart that I was going to die young. I just didnât expect it to happen like this. Iâm going to tell you my story, how it happened and why. But for the safety of myself and my family, I will give no names. Why you may ask? Well, itâs simple. I am still deep in hiding.
         âGet down!â Those were the last words I remember hearing before it happened. My close friend, who was subsequently the boss of the record label I was signed under, was the only one by my side. It all happened in slow motion. As I turned my head to the right, a distinct white four-door car pulled up alongside me. A shadowy figure appeared in the window, and as it slowly began to go down I noticed his arm extending straight towards me. He pointed a nine millimeter right at my head. BANG! BANG! BANG! A dozen shots hailed in my direction. In a split-second, I knew exactly what was going on. It was revenge.
         Earlier that night I attended a boxing fight between two big name superstars at the time. It was definitely a night to remember. I was one of the biggest hip hop artists out at the time and I was very good friends with the man who won. He was one of the best boxers of my generation. After the fight I approached him coming through the center stage and embraced him in front of the cameras. We poured champagne all over the floor, laughed and celebrated until it was time for me to leave. We made plans to meet at a local club around the area where I would be performing later that night. That would be the last time I ever saw him.
We were followed by an entourage of bodyguards and associates, when one of our associates from our record label spotted a man who happened to have stolen his chain during a previous altercation. Now, if it was any old, regular chain then I donât think anyone wouldâve given it a second look. But it wasnât just a regular chain; it was our chain, marked with the logo of our record company. He pointed him out behind a group of tourists and we walked over nonchalantly while his back was turned against us. He was like a sitting duck in an open field and we were the hunters. I charged as fast as I could without hesitation and swung an over-hand right hook that landed straight on the manâs jawbone. My entourage pounced on him following my punch, delivering blows and kicks to the head and body like something out of a scene from Rumble in the Bronx. By the end of the scuffle you could tell he was bruised up pretty badly. Our entire group swiftly maneuvered through on-lookers and security guards who were still not fully aware of the situation. Through two floors we managed to make a successful escape out of the building. That was it. Thatâs all I ever thought of that situation. Up to this point I didnât even look back once. I knew what we had done was justifiable and thatâs all I thought of it. Little did I know that this small, unequivocal incident would change my life forever. There was no turning back.
         Shots kept ringing out of the barrel of the gun. It felt like it would never end. I desperately tried to jump into the back seat as a barrage of bullets sizzled through the glass and fragments riddled my entire body. We couldnât move. We were surrounded by our own entourage of bodyguards and associates around our car, and the only opening was occupied by the assailants. This time, we were the sitting ducks.
I felt multiple bullets pierce through my skin. One entered my testicles, one hit me on the right side of my rib cage, another hit my thigh and the last one grazed my right index finger. It all happened so quickly. After what seemed like an eternity, which in reality was only about half a minute, they let up. They took a hard right turn and sped off towards the strip, followed by one of the cars in our entourage who made a valiant effort to follow them. Once he saw an opening, my boss slammed his foot against the gas pedal and made a U-turn toward the nearest general hospital on the Las Vegas strip. About a mile or so down the road, I felt the car implode underneath me followed by a loud bang. All four tires had blown out as we swerved and crashed into the sidewalk.
I felt an immense pain shoot up from my stomach, through the side of my body and into my head. At this point I was still barely conscious. I looked down at my basketball jersey to find myself drenched in blood as red as fresh wine. Slowly, my body began convulsing dramatically as I struggled to breathe. I desperately grabbed for the door handle, but my hand was trembling. When I finally found the strength to open the door, I was met by my boss kneeling beside the rocker panel of the car. He stared at me with a look of disbelief. It was a look that I have never seen before, and it frightened me.
As he went to grab me out of the car, a tall, burly, brown-bearded man in full uniform pointed a gun towards his back. âFreeze, get down on the ground now!â He looked back in disbelief as blood began dripping profusely down the side of his fully bald head. He had been hit by a bullet. âCanât you see? Weâve been shot! Heâs dying man, heâs dying!â The officer peaks inside the car, pointing a bright flash light in my direction. At that very moment my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I could no longer hear anything. I slowly started to drift off, and I saw what appeared like red dots vibrating in a sea of darkness. A distinct white light appeared in the distance. It expanded towards me. I felt blissful warmth with a sense of relief, as if the burdens of the world have been lifted from my shoulders. I gasped for one last breath, and then my body began to go limp. For a brief moment, I truly thought I was dead.