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Chance Knightly: The beginning

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Chance Knightly: The beginning


Chance has always had an affinity for speed. When he was a kid, he would sit on the fender of his dads Ford Fair-lane and dangle his feet down into the engine bay while Dad worked on it. Taking his first drive at age 5, he quickly fell in love with the beauty of an automobile. Sitting on his dads’ lap holding the steering wheel was the most exciting thing to hit him since bottled milk. Every day after elementary school Chance would run outside and give his father a big hug and be carried off to his dads Fairlane. Every day his dad would let him sit on his lap and steer once they got back to the neighborhood. Every day his mother Clara would stand in the driveway holding an oven mitt shaking her head as her toddler son and husband drove up to the house.

After a few years Chance was in middle school. He had numerous instances of being sent to the principal’s office for talking during class and even one instance of pinching a little girl named Emma who he thought was the finest thing since the Ford Fairlane. 

Chance began to become enamored with women, as most young men do. As he hit his early teen years, he began staying out later, going to parties, trying to keep up with the cool kids. When he was 14, Chance visited a small house party being thrown by some high schoolers. It was at this party that Chance saw his first and only rape. As Chance walked inside off the balcony, where he was schmoozing with a young lady he went to school with he saw a couple of the high school boys offering a girl drink after drink. He had noticed all night they were all over this girl, constantly holding another beverage. The dark and dimly lit room filled with smoke provided visible light trails from the overhead bulbs dangling from their fixtures on the ceiling. Red cups decorated the tables in front of the sofa from which this girl was sitting. As Chance walked in from the balcony, he saw the boys and the girl who was named Clara, just like his mother, scooting closer to each other and start kissing. Clara obviously was drunk and laid back into the sofa, nearly limp as she perched her lips. The boy climbed on top of her and kissed her as he moved his hands all over her body. Chance watched intently as he tried to learn anything about interacting with a female. The boy on top of her began getting rough with her. Chance could feel something was off. It was now when the boy started trying to get off Clara and kneel in front of her. This was enough for Chance to do something about it, but he knew he was too small to take on a senior high schooler. 

Chance ran out of the party and ran down the street to his parents’ house. He bolted upstairs and ran into his parents’ room, going straight for his dad’s nightstand. He ripped the nightstand drawer open and slipped an old M1911 out of the drawer. His dad stirred in bed as he noticed what was happening. "What do you think you're doing??" his dad exclaimed, but Chance was already out the door. His father threw his robe on and went running after him. 

Chance burst through the door at the party, gun in hand as he took the safety off and cocked it. The girl and the boy were gone, nowhere to be seen. Chance immediately went to the bedroom. Nothing. He burst into the bathroom of the house party and there he found Clara limp on the floor with the boy on top of her, both naked. Clara was clearly unconscious. Immediately filled with rage Chance raised the gun to the boy and squeezed the trigger. 

Time stood still. As Chance's finger moved slowly toward the back of the gun, depressing the trigger, his dad rounded the corner, finally catching up to him. He was too late. The high school boy flew forward from the point-blank shot to the side of his head. His body made a thud as his head clipped the wall on the way down, immediately letting out a pool of blood. The young Clara had a spray of blood across her face and chest.

"NO!" Chance's father shouted. Snatching the gun from him, his father broke down in tears. Screams from outside the bathroom were heard as the kids exited the house. The only sound remaining was the faint sound of hip-hop music from downstairs and his father weeping. Chance stood idle, facing the dead body.

"Do you realize what you've done?? You've thrown it all away!"
"He was about to rape her dad! He was raping her!"
"Son, this is how you go to jail for life... You can't always be the hero" Chance's dad barely could get the words out as he realized what he must do for his son. 

Chance stayed standing perfectly still as his father began to stand up. The sound of sirens slowly approached. 

"Go home, son." Dad said. "Get out now."

"What do you mean Dad I'm not going anywhere!" Chance whispered.

"Go to your mother and go now. You'll thank me later."

Chance slowly backed out of the bathroom giving his dad a look of regret as he began to choke up. 

"GO!" His dad shouted.

Running down the stairs Chance bolted out the back door as cops burst in the front. Looking back, Chance reached the neighboring fence as he heard cops shout, "DROP THE WEAPON!"

"GO SON GO!" Chance's dad exclaimed as he stood in the bathroom, only slightly visible from neck up in the bathroom window upstairs.

As chance hoisted himself upon the fence he looked back one more time to see his dads face pressed against the window as cops roughly arrested him.

Chance's eyes watered as he looked up at his father as he mouthed the words "thank you".

That was 10 years ago today, and Chance Knightly is still going strong. Although his mother is getting up in age, and his dad is still in prison, Chance hopes that by driving his dad's modified Fairlane hard and by earning enough capitol, he can one day break his dad out of prison, and right the wrong of his youth he committed so many years ago.

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