Kriminell . org

Chapter no 5, of the story of former criminal fathers son´s childhood with criminals, narcotics and violence all around him.

By this time I had no contact with my mum and I was working on renewing the reputation of our family name to the next generation of coppers.

My own lack of respect for the law started as early as when I was six years old. When I think back on this picture now, it’s a weird feeling of pride for where I’m from. Kronoparken had the reputation of being dangerous and people from other parts of town didn’t go there and later when we were teenagers we were not allowed go to other “nicer“ parts outside town. If we got spotted they called the cops on us. Anyway I remember one day me and my friend, the one that moved to Gothenburg, decided to trash a car that no one had used for a few weeks. My mum’s boyfriend had already taken the petrol from this car. So my friend started to jump the roof in on this car and I took a metal spear from a building site from across the road and rammed it in to the windscreen. At that time a car drove past. Nothing happened but when I see this picture I have to laugh. Welcome to Kronoparken! You can take the kid out of the ghetto but you can’t take the ghetto out of the kid. It was mainly normal games we played as a kid. It was very popular to pick over ripe “fruit” from the rose bushes and throw them at windows, spray concentrated garlic extract through letterboxed in to people’s apartments and go to the posh area and steal fruit, tools, bikes and anything else that they left outside after dark.

I think I was acting as a currier out of my knowledge. One evening my mum asked me to go up to her friend and drop a bag of. The friend’s nickname was the robber, cos he did armed robberies. In the bag was a landline phone. This was before the time of mobile telephones. I’m convinced now that there were drugs (heroin to be specific) under the cover on that phone. I know there is space as I’ve seen it opened before and those guys in that flat didn’t have a landline. When I left their flat there neighbour stuck his head out saying, “Dear little boy, what are you doing in that flat?” I said “nothing”.

A few years later my friends and me found that some storage rooms had the same locks and that our flat keys could open some of these locks if you fiddled a bit. And we managed to get in to a storage room for the local council. We started a club there where we played with fire. We had a logo that we wrote with glue and then lit the glue so our club name was in flames. When the glue burned out it left a burn mark with our club name. Later on we moved on to burning containers with paper. The next few summers were exiting in Kronoparken. We could get alcohol easy. You could go out at any time, day or night and it would always be someone out. There were a lot of arsonists around and the fire brigade were there almost every weekend.

We also found out from a gang in the next suburb how to get in to and start any Opel car with a simple bicycle lock key. We did that a few times but this gang had already established a name for them self’s so we hadn’t much interest.

It was not the firs time I set fire to things. I have a sister that is not my sister by blood but I known her my whole life and we were neighbours during my first 16-17 years. She always took care of me as a sister. We set fire to her mums flat once. The whole building burnt down. My mum was sleeping in the room where the closet was. Her mum was sleeping in a different room. First we started to burn the edges on a stack of magazines and then we turned to the big teddy bear. It only took half a second before the whole teddy bear was on fire and then another 30 sec for the rest of the closet to spark up. We didn’t dare to wake my mum up so we crawled very quietly to where here mum was sleeping and woke her up very gently. By the time her mum got to wake my mum up my mums hair was on fire. I was on my mums arm and my sister on her mum’s arm they were running out from the house bare foot in the snow as the windows exploded. They only had their night guans on. We went to the neighbours across the street and called the fire brigade. My sister and me were running around the neighbour’s house making noise like sirens on the fire truck.

We started drinking early. It was easy to get spirit as home made vodka is made in a lot of houses and stealing from drunk parents is easy. I was drunk first time when I was 1 years old. I had half a can of lager when my parents were not watching. But then I was dry until I was 12 lol, just joking. Iv had been to a party with some of my older friends. They were 14-17 years. I got really pissed there and I grabbed a few cans and went back to central Kronoparken. There I shared the drink with my other friends. At about 10:30 I was passed out on the street. I could not move so my friends dragged me home and put me to bed. All I remember from the journey home was my toes on my trainers dragging behind me. From that day there was a lot of drinking for the next 10 years. I started hanging out with older friends more and I also started getting attention from 16-17 year old girls when I was 12-13. When I was 13 I had a fling with my sisters best friend. She was 5 years older than me. We had been to a party one night and when we got back I didn’t want to go home so I slept in-between my sister and the friend. She came on to me and we started to touch each other and she started moaning and turning. I was shit scared that my sister should wake up and I was too young and felt too insecure in front of a 5 year older woman so I didn’t try to have sex with her even if that is what she tried..

. I had friends with cars at this time so a lot of time was spent in a car drinking and driving around I didn’t sleep much for a while and was drinking a lot and I was only 13 so my mum started to think that I was on drugs. I was not on drugs ever.

My sister moved to Stockholm and I visited her sometimes. She started to take me to nightclubs there and my friends became even older. One time I was in a club. I had a lot of hot shots (Galliano and coffee toped with whipped cream) before the club so I was quite drunk when I got in. the guys bought me pints. I was only little then so it didn’t take long before I was passed out in the toilet. The bouncers found me at closing time and chucked me out. I was 14 years old pissed like hell. I could not see 2 meters. And I didn’t know where my sister lived. The bus driver would not let me on the bus. A guy paid for a taxi if I would let him sleep on the sofa at my sisters. We managed to find the way but my sister told him to fuck off. I had the worst hangover ever the day after. If I moved a muscle I threw up.

to be continued

author is the son of former criminal father