Posted Tue Sep 8, 2015 | 505 Words | Tagged chav story this is a draft i had a long time ago there's a version on cyoc somewhere

“The fuck are you staring at”, one of them shouted. As usual, one of them shouted at me. Ignorance is usually bliss, so I continued walking.

Hearing footsteps behind me I tried to hurry up a bit to get away from the gang of chavs, with their entire polyester matching white clothing of a tracksuit and a sweatshirt. Their haircuts being short and similar with an almost shaved sides but with a small amount of hair on top, looking quite like every other chav.

My walking suddenly stopped as two burly arms roped themselves around mine, lifting me off the ground and my legs started kicking, to try and, with what useless attempt I had, try and free myself from these people. The third one, faced me and smirked at me which meant trouble.

Closing my eyes, expecting a punch to the face, typical of these people I felt a tugging at my feet. Snapping my eyes open to look what was going on, he held one of my shoes and almost snarled at them, “Not going to need these fuckin’ things anymore.”

I kept struggling, as if it were going to make things any better for me as he pulled of my other shoe, then my socks. Then I put a lot of worse into wiggling my body, as my jeans were tugged a bit, fearing worse was yet to come. Unbuckling and pulling my jeans down and then away, he stopped advancing any further. Then off came my t-shirt and coat, exposing me to whatever they wanted to do.

He then pulled out a clear plastic wrapped package containing pieces of clothing of similar colour of the clothes they were wearing. Cutting loose the packaging with a pocket knife which he pulled from his pocket, he unfolded them and took a look at them, smiling.

They were clearly not brand new, as the fabrics looked slightly worn and slight patches of stains were clearly visible. The then pulled them down and towards me. He was going to put them _things_ on _me_.

I tried my best to stop him getting them on, knowing there was something completely wrong about this situation. However, this did not stop them overwhelming me as I had no strength over them who obviously spent most of their time using muscles.

Once they were on, they released me and just stared. The one who forced the tracksuit on me was smirking still, and I was slightly dazed and confused. I expected to want to pick up my old things but, something compelled against me actually doing that.

“You comin’ or what?” He shouted at me, expecting me to join them.

“Fuckin’ hell, soz mate just dazed a bit” I spoke. I double took what I said. That was not the way I spoke, but it was I was sure. I was very confused.

He just put his arm around me to reassure I was one of them now. And a photo made proof that that was the fucking case.