Wrong time, wrong place.
How many times have I ever heard these words in the way they're being used now?
Countless times actually and from many sources.
Movies, books, video games, hell even from the wannabe punks on the street corner.
But could I ever imagine having those words directed at me?
Never. Nada. Zilch. Not in a lifetime. When hell freezes over.
And yet here I am, lying on the cold street as some gangster wearing white and yellow aims a gun straight at my head.
000-000-000
Black hair trimmed and shaved to a buzz. Eyes squeezed so narrow and together he couldn't be anything but Chinese. The five o'clock shadow as because his shitty home had no real bathroom.
000-000-000
It's funny really. After the messed up life I had, I feel almost robbed to die so...normally.
000-000-000
It was supposed to be simple. A quick jog to the store and back.
000-000-000
My life flashes before my eyes, It already seems full of adventure and experiences for one lifetime but that doesn't change the fact that I don't want to die!
Well, looks like my would be killer is done letting me muse in the past. The gangster pulls the hammer down on his glock.
I've seen and experienced death before. Even dealt it out on a daily basis sometimes. I always found a morbid way of trying to justify my kill, to try and make myself feel better.
000-000-000
No one dangerous was supposed to be out. No one who could kill.
000-000-000
Those who die with a relieved look on their face tells a story of letting go, of finally being done with life and happy to just...leave.
Others look shocked, like they didn't except their last moments to be spent gunned down by an enemy.
The final type in my book, a true rarity in my opinion, is those who can die staring death in the face.
When the man levels his gun at my head, I can only stare up at him for three seconds before my eyes closed. I felt both relief and shock somehow. Funny, two for three isn't bad in my opinion.
000-000-000
I don't want to die! Not yet! I still haven't done everything I wanted, I still have accomplished my DREAM!
000-000-000
*CRACK*
...I wonder if all people who die feel some huge explosive amount of pain before passing or do they just wake up in their form of purgatory with the knowledge that they no longer felt any hurt?
"You okay playa?"
Or maybe I'm still alive thanks to a newcomer.
I snap open my eyes and stare at the man before me. Black, older than the punk that just got wasted, dressed way better than most but not enough into 'fancy' territory and has the voice of a freaking deep angel.
"Julius, let's move," Huh, looks like I was a bit quick to praise. The guy with this Julius fellow is the one who saved me, "It's not safe out here."
Well, if he answers to Julius, then that means Julius gave the order to save me right? I'm torn from my thoughts when the man offers me his shoulder and the three of us scuttle away from the flaming wreckage of the Los Carnales car. Just when we reach a safe distance, the vehicle finally blows up.
"That doesn't look so bad, you should be fine," Julius said, inspecting my leg. A small rivet of blood was cascading down from around my knee and darkening my dark blue jeans but like Julius said it wasn't that bad. In fact, I had worst.
"That's Troy," Julius gestured to the guy with him, "You can thank him later."
"Hey," Troy acknowledged with a nod of his head before he went back to acting as a lookout.
I wanted to say something, anything back but I couldn't. Not since I was twelve at least. A combination of a freak accident and my own bad luck cost me my vocal cords. A long curvy scar that extends diagonally on my throat is proof of that.
Thankfully, I had another way of communicating but it wasn't on me.
"The Row ain't safe no more son," Julius continued, voice deep but now with a new tone of seriousness, "We got gangs fightin' over shit that 'aint theirs, and if you get in the way, they don't care if you representin' or not. You're lucky to have gotten outta that fight alive."
"Julius," Troy's incredulous voice interjected, "This isn't the time to be recruiting,"
Julius frowned before shooting a look over his shoulder at Troy, "We're gonna need all the help we can get son,"
"No, what we need is to get our asses out of here, it ain't safe."
"In a minute!" Julius barked before turning back to me, "Look, the Row's got a problem. Come to the church if you want to be a part of the solution."
The two of the gang members disembarked and just before Julius disappeared around the corner, he looked over his shoulder.
"Later playa."
Hmm, playa...that's...different. I've been called many things but never that.
Sighing, I get up on wobbly legs and start the short journey to the place I rented in this messed up city. The wound in my leg clotted already so I didn't have to worry about it much but my body still was reeling from the shock and anxiety that came with being so close to death. Still, I made it home quickly and in one piece.
I quickly glance left and right to ensure there won't be any more nasty surprises for what should have been a simple beer run. The large spacious garage is empty at the moment and my front 'lawn' if you can call it that is filled with littered items like crushed coffee cups, glass shards, and I think I even see an used condom.
Did I also mention the really crappy mail box with the word 'whore' sprayed all over its side?
Pushing open the rickety door (I have got to replace that damn thing) I wander into my meager abode. The interior is no better than the exterior, as evidenced by the peeling wallpaper, dirt caked floors, and even the various broken appliances like the fridge and TV. The living room and kitchen seemed to merge at one point and I highly doubt I would even want a piece of whatever I could possibly cook out of the filthy part of my home.
Suppressing the urge to just flop down onto my equally filthy mattress, I instead wander over to my safe and quickly input my super secret combo. (1-2-3) Yanking the tiny metal door open and wincing at the loud screeching it emits, I calmly flip open my wallet and deposit back the hundred I had on me. I take a quick wise guy count of my current stack of bills and hopefully conclude that my thousand dollars is still exactly one thousand dollars.
Shooting up and going through the motions of a yawn, I yank off the day's shirt and pants and toss 'em into an ever growing pile of dirty clothes before I grab a wrinkled T-shirt and slip it on. I take a quick glance at my leg and grimace at the small wound to the side of my knee. Damn Carnales and their shitty cars.
I fall backwards onto my shitty sleeping place and decide to quickly check my phone before going off into dream land.
...Three missed calls and a message.
Well shit.
I quickly sit up and bring up my call logs before checking the message. Just as I expected, they're all from the family. I try to call each number but no one answers. Sighing, I quickly reread the message my sister took the oh so loving time to send to me.
Hey shithead, how ya been? Mom and Dad got a bit scared when you didn't respond so they had to tell me to do it.
We both know I hate it when I have to do it right?
So I'm just telling you this now, you better have a really good FUCKING EXPLANATION for making me waste my time to check up on your unresponsive ass.
Love, your sister.
P.S. The Pack wanted to know how their old lap dog has been. Give 'em a call less you want them knocking your ass around for being rude.
P.S.S. Get a better apartment/place to stay...and maybe some actual food and beer in that place...no real reason
P.S.S.S. Keep that .44 Shepard Dad gave you clean all right? Dad says if he finds even a single speck of dirt on it, he'll pistol whip you within an inch of your life before showing you proper gun maintenance.
P.S.S.S.S. Stop eating out so much or maybe get something healthy. If Mom finds out, which she probably will, you're going to be in deep shit.
Charming, isn't she? Matter of fact, my whole family just gives off love, sunshine, and happiness don't they?
With another frustrated sigh, I quickly type a response back before shutting off my phone. I needed to get some rest and be prepared.
Tomorrow, I had a debt to pay back.