He walked down the street, filled with woes. His head drooped down like a leaf flying through the air in the middle of Fall. On his side's were the houses of San Francisco, California. Their iconic style was used to him. Even if you had never been to San Francisco, you will always remember them from pictures, and old TV shows. James had lived there for 21 years. He had moved there when he was 27. Still in his prime, the houses were a hip attraction to him. He was now 48, sad about what he had become.
He had become a drunk, poor low-life with nothing to do all day. His woes filled him all day, along with sadness, and loss of his earlier years. As he walked home, he started to drift off. The outside world was blacked out. The sounds of the night faded away. He remembered his early years, the good ones. The cherub years.
He walked across campus, with Dana. They were going to dinner. Lots of his friends were there as well, such as the twins and Bruce. They were mucking around, and having the time of their lives. As they got to the dining area, Bruce fell. His forehead hit the side of a table, and cracked open. He went to the hospital. All his friends waited around his bed for him to get better. James cherished that.
His vision came back. The sidewalk seemed endless. James checked his watch. 12 o'clock in the morning. He should be getting home quickly. San Francisco can be very dodgy at this time of night. Was that a person, or just the shadow of a building? James was so tired, he couldn't tell. He heard a footstep behind him. Several. The sound of a switchblade being flipped open. A pistol being cocked. And an axe fly through the air. "Give us your wallet, shoes, and anything that's worth something", one of the punks said, "or your brains are going to the pavement". James's training sparked. He may have not been in his prime, but he still had skills. He turned around quickly. He grabbed the man with the Pistol's wrist, and twisted. The gun dropped, but James couldn't pick it before he heard a swoosh. He dived under and back, then kicked the man's stomach. He doubled over, onto the sidewalk. James clawed the gunman's eye, while simultaneously
punching the man with a knife in the throat. His head made contact with the pavement. As the man screamed, James grabbed his knife. He tried kicking James, but missed horribly. The gunman had grabbed the gun, however, and quickly took aim. "No", said James. "Not like thi-". Everyone on the block heard the gunshot. The short cry of James as he fell, and died before he even hit the ground. As the mugger took his wallet, rings, and watch, then fled. As the police and ambulances showed up, and took his body away. As the neighbors stood in shock.
As the end came.
Written by Orvie
j0nacus4429 on Skype
Just to talk.
Thanks to Agent C21 for giving me the idea to write more of these.