Allen Davidson, or Big Al, Montana, whatever the hell you wanna call him, was born on January 5th, 1990 to Andre Davidson and Tamika Hamilton in Advocate Trinity Hospital in Southside Chicago. Andre, Tamika, and Allen lived in the Robert Taylor homes, of Chiraq. "The Terror Dome." Andre left Allen and his mother when Allen was only five years old. Allen never could forgive his father. In 1996, his sister, Lauren, was born to a man Tamika didn't even remember. Allen swore he would do anything to protect her, no matter the cost. Then 2001 rolls around, and his mother saved up just enough money to move to Los Santos. There they found themselves on section 8 in the El Corona Housing Projects. Gangs riddled the streets, this was not anything new to Allen. Allen found himself on the basketball courts the most, especially with his little sister. The two would always play ball, even though they've been kicked off the court by gangs, they could not really be stopped. Allen was a C average student, he was smart, but his attendance was horrible. His mother could not ever get them to school on time. Then his mother stopped coming to the house as often. She'd be in some crackhouse in Jefferson or on the corner at stacks. Allen tried to forget these days. At 15, 2005, July, it was hot. One of the hottest years he's felt since he came to LS. The crips in that area wanted to recruit him because he was built strong and could always work on cars for them. Allen would've joined but his sister stopped him. His sister was really always trying to keep him safe. Allen made an actual friend that summer, besides his sister. That friend was Taylor Hayes. The two would always play basketball after school, or hang out at stacks. The harsh realities of the ghetto soon caught up to them... Allen, Taylor, and Lauren all were walking home one day in october, 2007. It was Allen and Taylor's senior year. Lauren had just started middle school. They were talking about how the first few weeks had gone until some guys from Jefferson rolled up on them. They had mistaken Allen and Taylor for crips. The three of them saw the bandana's and the slow rolling car and knew what was about to happen. They all ran as fast as they could, hoping they'd make it.Allen was shot by an AK through his left leg, but Taylor and Lauren never made it. Taylor had taken 10 bullets to the chest and died on the spot. No bullets were meant for Lauren, but she was shot anyway. Lauren and Taylor died on October 31st.... Halloween..... Lauren's favorite holiday. Allen was rushed to a hospital where he was treated like a suspect. They cuffed him to the bed but his mother never knew about any of this. The anger and sadness that flowed through Allen's body still rages to this day. Allen decided he was going to join a gang. He was no longer the nice kid on the block. He had become a blood thirsty animal. Allen now run's the El Corona Mafia. A set of the Insane Gangster Disciples crip gang. Allen doesn't care about anyone besides those close, and will forever keep that mentality.
Allen did a drive by with a few guys. He was caught up later on, but the rest were let go. Allen could only guess that CCTV got the plates, though it could be hard. He didn't care, he knew that his crew was safe. It is July 31st, and Allen is awaiting the verdict in a holding cell. They shot at a crimstone, one of the most, if not the most notorious street gang in Los Santos. Allen knew that there would be consequences, he just didn't know if a cop or a crimstone would demonstrate these consequences. At the same time he no longer cared. He just hoped he'd be able to get out in time to see his girl. He just hoped she wouldn't move on. But even that didn't seem to bother him. All he really wanted to do was smoke weed, chill with the homies, and talk business with OG Fredo. Allen still hasn't talked to anybody official about his current situation, or anyone at all for that matter. He might stay the maximum time, and just get the book. It's times like these Al missed home the most. Damn Cuz.
It was the first day of August. Taylor and Allen would always go to stacks on the first day of each month, but today was more special. Taylor was born on August 1, 1990. The two would go to stacks, then to the Santa Maria beach with a few girls. The big homies at the time, who are all dead now, usually came through with the weed, drinks, and females all around. Allen was always studying cars so he kind of knew what he was doing. Installed his first hydraulics set in the summer of 2005, but that's another story. When the big homies would roll around, they'd always have one car problem. The man who called himself "Benzi" always came to Al for car tips. Benzi didn't own a Mercedes or anything European as a matter of fact. He had a really nice 1963 Chevy Impala, a lot like the one Allen currently has. Anyway, when the ladies saw Allen do his thing on the shot up pipes of Benzi's Impala, they were all over him. However, Taylor sort of liked being a one girl guy. He actually had a girlfriend till he died, and she was always down for him. She lived in Idlewood so it was always a gamble. Anyways, getting off topic, Allen would always reminisce about that beach. Everybody would be having so much fun and music would be playing. Nobody ever called the cops. All Allen could think about was the smile on Taylor and Lauren's faces.... usually he'd smoke a blunt and pour out a whole fifth of Hennessy in their names, but he was sitting in a holding cell, with his thoughts to himself. It was quiet, he was alone, and Allen missed his home.