A brutal crime was committed. That I almost witness. Should I be a rat? And lose my true love. Or tell what I saw. How do you know what's right when your only 18 years old.

Vincent (Jimmy stats or odds) Longo was as big as a bookie can be in the N.Y. Tri-state area. And Capo of his own crew. My name is Angelo Russo. The night was June 6, 1964. When me and Stats shared a brutal crime. One that I didn't commit, and really never witness. I was 18 years old in 1964. And busing tables at an Italian restaurant around the corner from my house. I was taking out the trash just before closing. When I heard arguing in the adjacent parking lot. Suddenly I heard a loud thud. Like someone dropping a large suitcase or heavy bag on the sidewalk. Being curious and also making sure no one was sneaking up on me, I went to see what was up? When I took a peep around the corner our eyes met for just a couple of seconds. Stats never had any emotion in his eyes. We recognized each other, then he just turned around and left. The next thing I saw was this lump on the ground where stats came walking from. There's an old Italian saying in our neighborhood. That a man that see's and hear's nothing lives a hundred years. So I just waited till closing. Hoping Stat's or any of his crew wouldn't be waiting outside for me when I left. No one wanted to fuck with Stat's or his crew in my neighborhood.
The End

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