jorben jackson Posted March 29, 2025 Report Posted March 29, 2025 (edited) --BACKSTORY-- I never expected to find purpose in an organization like The Shadows. My life, up until that moment, had been a collection of disappointments, survival instincts, and an endless search for belonging. My name is Jorben Jackson, but my friends call me JJ. This is the story of how I found my path in a world that had abandoned me. Growing up in North Yankton, I never knew my mother. I don’t even know her name. My father was nothing more than a ghost, drifting in and out of my life so inconsistently that I barely remember his face. I spent most of my childhood bouncing from one temporary home to another, fending for myself in ways a kid never should have to. I was a good-for-nothing kid, lost in a cold and unforgiving place, scraping by however I could. When university time came around, I knew I needed a change. I flew to Toronto and enrolled in a locksmith engineering program. I wasn’t the brightest in my class, but I made it through, graduating at class average. After that, I wanted a fresh start in a warmer place, so I moved to Los Santos. That’s where I met Darrel and Mutunga—two guys who would become more than just friends; they were family. One night, everything changed. Darrel, Mutunga, and I decided to cook drugs out in Sandy, north of the city. That’s where we met Theo and Frankie. At first, I was skeptical. I didn’t trust anyone outside our circle, and I thought they were there to rob or hurt us. But I was wrong. They were different—smart, calculated, and, most of all, genuine. Instead of turning on us, they invited me to join The Shadows. For me, The Shadows weren’t just some criminal outfit. They were a way to fight back against the system—a system that had failed me since childhood, that had put me on the streets and separated me from my family. I had always been searching for something, and now, I had found it. Being a part of The Shadows changed everything. It gave me resources, a purpose, and most importantly, people I could count on. The organization became my new family, one that accepted me for who I was and gave me the means to carve out my own destiny in a city that chews people up and spits them out. Now, at 30 years old, I look back at the path that brought me here. From a lost kid in North Yankton to a locksmith graduate in Toronto, to a street-hardened survivor in Los Santos—I have lived through more than most. And yet, my journey is far from over. The system turned its back on me, but with The Shadows, I finally have the power to push back. This is my story. And it’s only just beginning. Edited March 29, 2025 by jorben jackson 3 Quote
jorben jackson Posted March 29, 2025 Author Report Posted March 29, 2025 --LONG LOST BROTHERS-- Growing up, I never knew my mother. I don’t even know her name. My father was nothing more than a ghost, drifting in and out of my life so inconsistently that I barely remember his face. I spent most of my childhood bouncing from one temporary home to another, fending for myself in ways a kid never should have to. As I grew older, I learned the streets better than I learned my own name. The choices I made led me straight into the arms of the law, and eventually, to a cell in Los Santos Correctional Facility. That’s where I found myself locked up with Cooper Chapel. But unlike most of the inmates in that place, I already knew Cooper. We were both part of an underground organization called The Shadows. I had worked with him before, trusted him in ways you trust someone in the life we lived. But we had never talked much about our pasts, never gone beyond the surface. We were brothers in the organization, but as far as I knew, that was where the connection ended. One night, after weeks of serving our time together, Cooper let something slip that changed everything. He told me his last name wasn’t really Chapel. It was originally Jackson. That single admission sent my mind into a whirlwind. Could it be? Could I have had a brother this entire time and never known? I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but deep down, I felt something shift. A possibility I had never dared to consider before. Months later, after we both finished our sentences, we met up at Pillbox Hospital in Los Santos to take a DNA test. I tried to play it cool, but my hands were shaking when they took my blood sample. We waited, trying not to think about the what-ifs. Then, the results came back: positive. Cooper and I weren’t just related—we were full-blooded brothers. And I was the older one by five years. The revelation hit us both hard. All those years, we had been out in the world alone, not knowing that we had each other. We had grown up separately, facing struggles neither of us should have had to endure, all because of decisions that had been made before we even had a say in them. The next question became: what the hell happened to our family? Cooper and I made a pact that day. We were going to dig into our past and find out the truth—who our mother was, why our father disappeared, and what really happened that split us apart before we even had a chance to know each other. Our journey to uncover our history is just beginning, and we don’t know what we’re going to find. But one thing is certain: we found each other. And for the first time in my life, I’m not alone. 3 1 Quote
