Teva "Trigger" Seraphim {D9}

Trigger Seraphim

The chances of a woman having triplets. Do you know what those odds are? Me neither, but it happened to us. Me, Tripp, and Tate, we all look the same. Same black hair, always looks messy because we never bothered to keep it neat since mama died. We also got the same black eyes. Have you ever seen a cat when it gets all excited and its pupils blow up? Black like that. We're predators. We may not look tough, but we are. We've got muscle under these baggy clothes. I've got scars in places you wouldn't believe. Knife fights, man. I always win but that doesn't mean I don't get a scratch. I actually got nicked under my left ear, so that's one way you can tell me apart from my brothers. I also have one on my left ass cheek. It's a long story.

Actually it's not. We were grappling on the ground trying to reach our weapons. I can't move my legs and this asshole manages to grab his knife and slice my cheek open. Who even does that? Slicing a man's ass like that. I've never been so disrespected. I killed him, of course, but still. A scar on my ass of all places. I can't believe it.

I count fourteen scars. Most of them are on my torso. Assholes will knife you in the back first chance they get, and you know what? Fuck em. But fuck me too, cause I'll play as dirty as they do. I've left more scars than I've received and I'm proud to say it. That's why it's easiest to pick me out of the three of us. Our littlest brother Teddy has it all figured out. He has been practicing this shit since he was born. I don't see how it's hard, but maybe that's because I've spent all of my time with these pricks. Everyone says I look the angriest. I'm scowling all the time, and I got this dangerous fire in my eyes that says I'll do anything. They're goddamn right. I'm not called "Trigger" for nothing. The second you cross us my finger will be on that trigger, and I won't hesitate to blow a hole in your skull. Brutal, right? That's just how it works.

We're in a gang. Not just a gang but the gang, the one our mama was in before the Peacekeepers caught her and shot her right in front of us. Was that supposed to set an example for her three little boys? Dad walks out on them, the white coats murder their mama, and suddenly they're gonna be okay and become good little boys that follow all the rules? Give me a fucking break. We don't live to forgive, that's not what gang runts do. What we saw was like a hammer to our hearts. I wanted to break the neck of every white coat on that stage and I still do. I would if I could. Our mama didn't raise idiots. She raised us like she was supposed to. She taught us never to trust the charming ones (like our dad, who was late to our birth bed because he was a cheating shithead) and always respect women, whether they're big or small, tall or short, pretty or not, light skin or dark skin, short hair or long hair, prostitutes or factory workers. She taught us to stick together because we're family and take care of Teddy because he's got that heart condition. We even went to school for awhile.

We all miss mama, but it's been four years now. We're okay.

Tate does all of the mommying now. I always nag at him and call him "mom" whenever he babies us.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth Teva!"

"OKAY MOM!"

I don't think he likes that, but I think I'm hilarious.

Back when we were in school I did okay. My grades weren't the best because I can't stand sitting in the same desk for so long. I gotta be doing something, I gotta be up writing on the board or looking for books on the shelf. I hate sitting around, you won't see me do that. People say I'm fidgety and that I have a short attention span or whatever but you know what, fuck you, I know what I like and I'll do what I like thank you very fucking much. I was pretty good at math though. Sounds weird, right? Guys like me usually hate math, but I always understood it perfectly. Those students always got the best jobs, too. They become factory managers and the higher-up workers that get paid more, instead of the runts that sit and make plastic or metal. I kind of wondered what it would be like to have a job like that. I dreamed about it sometimes. Mama dying kind of ruined that, but I don't think it would've worked out anyway. Factories aren't my kind of atmosphere.

We didn't choose the gang life, the gang life chose us.

Once you're in you're in for life. You're in until someone else kills you. A lot of the fights I get into are about turf. There aren't a lot of gangs in District Nine so there's a lot of territory to cover. Some sneaky pricks think they can sell their shit all discreet-like in our territory without anyone finding out, but you know what? We always find out, and I always gotta hunt them. One of us does, at least. Trigger, Barrel, or Bullet. That's us when we're in the streets. Feared and dangerous because we're all parts of a loaded gun. I'm the one that'll blast your ass without a second thought. I start it all. I'm always the first to go in. Tate calls me reckless and he's right, but I don't have a filter or the patience not to take off. If I don't act, I could miss a chance. I don't like missing chances.

I have pretty shitty aim though. Bullet has the best aim because he's the bullet, obviously. He makes the mark. Barrel is the one that's always thinking about what to do next. He's got the good ideas. Teddy is the smartest, but he doesn't do the dangerous business we do. He's Safety because he's our safety, our little brother who I'd probably die for if I had to. He's in the gang too but Tate hates it. I don't like it all that much either, but I teach him the best ways to defend himself so he doesn't end up getting taken advantage of.

At home it's different. We're not gangsters under our own roof. We're just boys. We're not the best type of people, but we're not the worst either.

We like to have family dinners. I always offer to go grocery shopping because I don't like sitting around or being cooped up in the same place for too long. It's pretty peaceful when we're under our mama's roof. We argue sometimes, but it's all in good fun. I could never hate my brothers. Sometimes I go to the bookstore and look for dictionaries. I want to get one for Teddy so he can learn more words and so I can learn more words since I'm not the brightest guy around. They're really hard to find. Every time they get a new shipment they're gone the next day because they go to schools or someone faster than me gets to them first. Stealing from a school is an asshole move so I won't do that.

I'll just wait. That's one thing I can wait for.

Money's not an issue since we profit from our work, so we're pretty well off. I don't think any of us got any special commitments besides our family and the gang. If my brothers have girlfriends it's news to me, but that shit's none of my business. Girls don't really line up for gangsters like me, but they might for Tate and Tripp. I dunno. I don't talk about girls with them, that's one thing I'm usually quiet about.

If you call me a virgin I'll bash your fucking head in. And I always win the fights I start.

Except the day mama died. Those white coats kicked the shit out of me until I could barely breathe. I had to wear a brace on my chest until the broken ribs were all better.

I'd fight them again if I could.