Adriano Botticello

I am Adriano Botticello. My closest friends call me Addy,
But you can call me Mr.Botticello.

I was born in Italy. My father was a laborer, and my mother stayed home with me and my brother, Ambrogio.
Times were hard, often times we did not eat. Other times we did not eat for lengths of time.

My father always told me to get through it and to be strong. And that is what I did.
The same could not be said for Ambrogio.
He could not take the harsh way we lived, the way we were forced to live. And eventually, he gave up.
After he passed away, I went to work with my father.
Hours upon hours I spent. Loading crates onto ships, anything that needed to be done.
Often I would return home when there was food, and be too exhausted to eat. So my mother kept the same meal for me the next day.

Years passed by, and as they passed my mother and father grew old.
On their passing, I packed up every dime I had, every article of clothing that was mine, and anything in my possession, and I boarded a ship.
It seemed as though I'd been on that ship for years.
Yet finally, one day, the horn blew loudly, waking me up.

I stood from where I slept, and heard the hoarse cry of the captain,
"San Fierro docks. 's Far as I go, then it's back, back, back!"
I decided to get off of the ship here.

I got in with a local gang at first. Made me feel secure, made me feel like I had some people who would have my back when things got down and dirty.
I was wrong.
This bunch wanted me as their scapegoat, and nothing more.

We had it all planned out. The Bank of San Fierro. We weren't many, but we were armed to the teeth. Anything we could get our hands on, we had.
We were going to do this. I was instructed to wait outside, making sure no police came.

A few minutes later the alarm rang out loudly, and out came the gang members.
They scattered. My limited knowledge of San Fierro made it hard for me to run anywhere. The cops caught up, and I went straight into SFPD custody.
So much for 'brothas.'

I was charged, and spent the next five years of my life in prison. I decided not to take this anymore.
When I got out, things were gonna change. I would make them change.

December 5th, 1981, I was released from prison.
I was hardened now. I had grown, not only mentally, but physically.
I was no longer tall and lanky, but brutish looking. Only a few glances were pointed at me as I walked the streets of San Fierro, yet I could see it in their eyes. Fear.

I walked the streets out of San Fierro, and into the mountains. There I met a man, he offered me a ride. Suprised by this offer, I simply nodded and got in. HE drove me all the way to Los Santos.

Los Santos, now THIS was a city for me. It was big, many people lived here. And what's-more, San Fierro was far, far away. Out of sight, and eventually, out of mind.
I decided this is where I'd make it. If not here, nowhere.
And Los Santos is where I stayed, and it's where I intend on being buried,
But not too soon...

Very nice, I like it. A bit short perhaps, not very detailed, but it gets the point across really nicely. Had me reading till the end.

I like it very much! Its pretty unique. Its not a story with both parents got shot by family members. I ran away and flight to Los Santos and make my life better or something.

Well done

Yeah, summit liek dat.