It prowls behind you, creeping slowly, stealthily. You know it’s there. You can’t always pinpoint exactly when it arrived, and you never know when it will ever leave, but you most certainly know it’s there. Sometimes, you hear it. It growls. You hardly ever see it, and you don’t really want to see it, either. When it growls, you jump, and for the next few steps, you walk stiffly, hyper aware of the being behind you. If only you knew why it was following you, if only you knew what it looked like. If only. Eventually, you relax, thinking that because of the calm, it has left. And then, it will growl again. You jump once more and stiffen, but you’re not afraid. You can’t be afraid. You can’t fear the beast, because the beast is fear.
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I flick the light switch, and I killed the last light. In the darkness of the mirror, a good looking guy stares back at me. This guy in the mirror wears a slick blue uniform, and the guy slips a badge over his neck. This guy is ready to go, and this guy is packing heat.
The smell of rain is what hits me as I skip the last step. I take a long drag from my cigarette. I Inhale the smoke and slowly blow it out through my front teeth. The day was hot, but the night is now cool. I survey the streets. No fishy smell stings the air tonight. Perfect weather to lay down the law. I take another long draw from my cigarette, and I move swiftly to my car. When I step in to my dark fuzz cab, a sly smile comes across my face. I read off of the paper, and I look at the picture. A beautiful one is in store for us tonight. Johnny will have his way with her, and I’ll be swimming in dough stacks by the time the sun pokes it’s head over the horizon. In Brooklyn I’m on the night shift. These streets are my children. With a cool hand and a keen eye, I am the man of these streets. Johnny at the station calls the shots. I go on long missions through thick summer air to take targets into custody. Whether I have to let my gun sing to a couple of drunks messing with one of our families, or do a quick snatch of a young lady Johnny spotted, I always am carrying out what Johnny asks me to. He repays me with cold green benjamins. He may sing sick songs to a bank teller, or he may put some rich jack away for life and take his dough. We run everything around here. I let my gun and my badge do the talking. People know the deal around these parts. They know how we run things, and if the people don’t like it they keep their mouth shut about it. If you slide out of line, you end up with X’s over your eyes. They could end up rotting in Pelican Bay for all I care. My ride glides down the street. This girl is supposed to step out of the subway at 9:30. I’ll tag her and pick her up once she gets to a quiet street. At 9:33 she slides up the steps and turns down central street. She’s a beauty. She must be a Rican. She has long brown hair, and she is wearing a red dress. Her hands are busy with groceries, and she walks with intent. A fine looking woman like herself knows better than to be out this late at night. Boy does Johnny have good taste. As I slip through the shadows in my car behind her, she turns down a remote street. I blaze the sirens, and I pull up next to her. As I step out of the car, she notices me and jumps back quickly, dropping her groceries and putting her hands up. I laugh out loud. So much for a fight with this one. I slide out of the car to see this woman’s body shaking like a leaf. I light up a cigarette with a smile. My body eases against the passenger door of the car. The first puff warms my lungs. I smile at her. “Officer,” she asks. “You know there is a warrant out for your arrest girly.” “Oh officer, you must be mistaken!” Her voice sounds slightly panicked. I love it. I inhale for a while on my cigarette, then blow the smoke through my teeth towards the black sky. I smile at her. “Here the police are always right.” Her face slides into a deer in headlights look. She knows the deal. She knows that she has no control at this point. After I cuff her, I put her into the back of the car. The car brakes squeak as we stop at different lights. I hear loud breathing in the back seat. Fire is practically shooting from her nose. “What’s wrong sugar?” The words hopped off my tongue as I glanced at her through the mirror. “You’re never going to get away with this!” I grin at her. Her face is red. She knows that she has been brought into the system now. “Oh sugar. You don’t get it do you.” Our car kept squeaking along until we reached the station. I surfed into my normal spot, and I softly stopped. I moved her into the station where she was booked by Jay. Jay’s a skinny guy who sits behind the counter and books the catch. Johnny and I met with her in the back room for questioning. Johnny puffed a fat cigar as he sat behind his desk. He read off of the paper and smiled. She sat cuffed to a chair across from him, and she was still puffing like a bull. Johnny puffed a smoke ring in the air and then smiled. His smile was large and his heavy Italian features showed. “Looks like theft charges are being put against you huh?” Johnny asks. “I didn’t do nothin’.” Johnny smiled. “Three charges of shoplifting huh? Doesn’t that sound like something?” “Yeah and we got witnesses that put you at the scene of the crime. The evidence was found on the street when I picked her up sir.” I remarked. We showed our heat, and we pressured some old shopkeeper in to being a witness. “Look honey. I want to make this easy for ya. I’m a family man, and I know that you are a good mother to those kids of yours. Heck, you're probably a good wife to! But look suga’, being in jail aint setting a good example for the kids is it?” Johnny’s a professional. He knows everything about the targets. “Yeah, and three robbery charges ain't no joke either,” I add. She was steaming now. Snot was spitting from her nostrils. Fumes were practically coming out of her head. But dang did she stand out in a room like a rose. “Now you’re facing three to four years assuming we can’t make a deal.” “Yeah, well what deal are you talkin’?” “You know the deal,” I cut in. “Okay. So that’s how it’s gonna be? Okay.” She stated. I walked out of the office. My job was done for now. I stood outside the station taking long breaths from a cigarette. Two Puerto Rican men got out of a car, and they walked towards me. “I want to see my wife,” one said. “And I want to see my sister,” remarked the other. I took a long draw from my cigarette. I blew the fumes at the man. A grin slid across my face. “We aren’t done with her.” “That wasn’t a question,” one of them sniped. This got the air a little tense, and this started a chain reaction that got my blood a little hot. “Who in the world do you think you’re talking to boy?” The men looked angrily at me. One pulled a gun and he pointed towards me. “Who do you think you are? Who in the world are you pointing that at boy? Jay,” I barked, “Jay get out here!” Jay dragged to the door slowly. He pulled the latch and he walked out. Jay slipped his hand into his pocket and he yanked out his pistol. “Haha you see how it is now boys don’t you,” I laughed. The two Puerto Ricans smiled. “Yeah we see how it is.” I glanced over at Jay. I looked straight down the barrel of his pistol. He was three feet away and he cocked the gun. “So that’s how it is huh? You disloyal fool! You hypocritic losers!” My mind was fizzling, and the air felt uneasy. “Don’t you understand that I’m the man around here! Don’t you get that these streets belong to me! I’m putting cases on all of you! All of your families are going down!” My mouth was running away from me now, and I just couldn’t seem to catch it. “Why don’t you boys bounce. I got your back boys. Get up out of here,” Jay stated cooly. He thinks he’s in control now huh? “Who are you protecting boy? Who do you think you are?” Now I was gone. “This is my city! I will burn these streets to the ground! I’ll laugh as ya’ll go down! Stalin ain’t got nothin on me!” The two Puerto Rican men’s guns slowly slid into their holsters. “Just you wait and see!” I pointed at one of the men. “You’ll be under 24 hour lock down in alcatraz by the time i’m through with you! All of ya’ll are burning! Just you wait and see! I can’t lose. You can’t beat me!” Jay pointed the gun at me still. The two men bounced. Fumes shot from my ears. “Oh just you wait and see! You’re going down with that sister of yours!” They didn’t turn around, they just kept walking. “Get out of here ya bum. Get into your car and get out of here,” Jay harshly suggested. I stared at him and smirked. “Just you wait Jay. Just you wait!” When I turned the ignition key I lit up another cigarette. I turned through the first light and then down another street. The air seemed heavy, and the night seemed quiet. Who did they think they were? I’m putting murder on Jay. We aren’t letting the girl out either. Her husband and brother are getting killed. We’ll frame some useless bum we find on the street. These are my streets. Who do they think they are? A gray station wagon pulled up next to me. I cocked my head to look down the barrell of a shotgun. It was the same men from the station. This time they were in the front seat of a cop car. Another officer was behind the wheel. A glum look was on his face. A face that had muscles positioned to show anger and revenge. My blood temperature skyrocketed. I slid out of my car. “Boy don’t nobody ever teach you!” A horribly loud noise shook the air. I was blown back against my car. Barely breathing I glanced as the Puerto Rican that pulled the trigger stepped from his car. He snatched my badge from around my neck. With a quick tug he yanked it off. “This time the case was put on you.” White.
Torture. White Torture. There was nothing anybody would be able to see, not even the tail lights could be seen. This wasn’t good, that much he knew. And if he didn’t know just by the fact that he could not see out of his windshield, he soon learned when the feeling in his leg went followed by his hand. Cars Honking. The wind Yelling. Pushing against the cars’ windows. He should have bought a new car. He knew that he needed one but he figured that it would be cheaper to wait until the end of the year. A new car would have kept his warm in this heat and he wouldn’t be losing feeling in his body. There it goes, the feeling in his face, this can’t be healthy. ‘I really hope this traffic lets up soon’ he found himself thinking, but he knew it wasn't going to happen, so he looked around the car for something to keep his warm. Even though he already had 3 layers of clothes on. Me? You’re talking to me? Look, I’ll tell you whatever you want; just lower the gun, alright? I swear, I’m not armed, see? Look, I’ll empty my pockets to show you. Yeah, just some headphones and a little bit of change for the vending machine and the bus ride home- do you want that too? No, wait I wasn’t trying to be smart or anything, I swear. Just, they have good Cheetos in there right now, that’s all.
What’d you ask? Yes, sir, I work here- graveyard shift for about three years now. Got this job right out of college- graduated with about the most useless degree possible. Don’t you just wish the damn guidance counselors would say it to your face? I mean, they must’ve figured out majoring in the Fine Arts with a minor in Russian Literature wasn’t the way to go, right? But nope, they don’t tell that to you until you’re $50,000 in debt. But, anyway, so I’m fresh out of college- No, sir, I’m sorry for rambling. Look, I’m not sure if that’s a great idea; Mr. Erics- that’s my boss, by the way, he started this gallery with his wife about a century and a half ago- he was saying they added all this new security a few weeks ago, just to get ready to house the Diamond Ballerina! No, no, I know this isn’t my robbery, all I was saying is that if I was you- Ow! Holy shit! Yeah, yeah, I can take you to the vault! Fuck, that hurts, man! Just, give me a moment okay?! I’m a security guard, but that doesn’t mean I like to be punched, dude! Please, just don’t hurt me, okay? I’ve got a wife and kids at home, man. Little daughter, her birthday’s this weekend. She’ll be three, I think. Casey, my wife, is already stressed about Sophie's party, as if the kid’s gonna remember it anyways. Don’t get me wrong, I love Soph half to death, but, Christ, ever since she was born Casey’s been so stressed out all the time! Doesn’t want to do anything anymore! My sister, Margret, she told me that was gonna happen- she's got 4 boys of her own up in Vermont- but I didn’t believe her! Thought she was just jealous I was gonna have a girl! Anyway though, if you kill me now my little girl’s not going to ever see her daddy again! Come on, don't be heartless! See, I'm taking you there, right? I'm doing what you said. Well, here we are, man. I’m afraid I don’t know the combination though, so I’m not totally sure how you’re going to be getting in there, but, well, you guys are the professional thieves here. I bought the phone off of ebay. It was cheap, and I mean real cheap, especially for an iphone like that. The guy said that he wanted to get rid of it. He must have done that in a rush, because when it got to me, nothing was deleted. All of his contacts were there, all of his pictures, all of his apps. I ain’t a nosey person, but come on. It was like this stranger had just handed me a book of his life. I had to read it.
I started by just scrolling through the contacts. Nothing unusual. He had his mom, his friends and his boss, just like we all do. But then I got to the pictures. There were around 400 hundred and all of them were of his and this girl. She was beautiful, amazingly so. She was a magazine cover but she did not need all the photoshop. Then I noticed, in every picture they were wearing the same exact thing, and, if you scowled like it was a movie, her smile slowly faded. The last picture was actually a video. The man who had sold me the phone just looked straight into the camera. For thirty seconds he said nothing, just blinked, afterwards, he said ‘Sorry.’ He had been crying. Next the text messages. I scrolled through the first couple conversations were just emoji riddled things about the normal stuff, work, beer and weekends. But then, I get to this conversation he had with some girl, whose contact was Her. “Hey” He started. “Hey.” She texted back exactly 11 minutes later. “Just making sure you gave me the right number.” He said. “Romantic.” She responded. I am assuming that is sarcastic. “You’d be surprised.” “I like surprises.” They continue on with this flirty banter until finally he gets the courage and says “dinner?” She says that she guesses she is not busy tomorrow night. “When should I pick you up.” “7.” “Are you okay with Italian.” “Yeah.” Romance in the modern age really is a great thing. They go to dinner, and since I can tell when the messages and pictures were sent they take the 400 pictures in that one night. The next morning he says “You alright? You left my apartment so soon.” That message was seen at 10:58 am. There is no response. Later that same night he messages “Microwave food for me tonight. Not as good as Italian. Not as good as food with you.” Seen 8:14 pm. The next morning he tries, “So do you want to meet up again?” Seen at 9:37am. Then, at 11:42 am, she texts back, “you are not good at taking hints. are you?” “What did I do wrong?” His response is both immediate and desperate. Seen at 11:45 am. He waits only ten minutes and then responds with “?” but still, she does not respond. He waits two hours and then says “Listen, I had a great time last night. Sorry if you didn’t. Want to try again?” He waits another day and then says “Really? No response?” He is mad now, and texting very frequently. “I at least deserve a response.” “I thought you were better than this.” “Thought you were different. My mistake.” “Yow know I can see that you have read these, right?” “Why are you ignoring me?” “Why did you even say yes when I asked.” “I did not want a one night stand. I wanted you.” Then, “I am coming over.” He says nothing for four days, and when he does he sends a video. A man cries and looks into the camera. “Sorry.” It was what everyone had always dreamed of. Well, almost everyone. For everyone to access the same network, the same information, the same world, no matter where. To be able to skip the laborious process of making the trip to the library every time one needed to verify one fact or another. The future of information. A highway for information, gleaming, shiny, and new, holding more and more cars every minute of every day. It stretched wherever one wanted to go, and back again. But this glorious network of information only claimed to be perfect. As time went on, the inevitable effects of the environment took its toll on this highway. There were drawbacks and pitfalls for every hopeful idea, a con for every pro. Vicious viruses, meddlesome malware, incorrect information, lurking around every corner, behind every flashy, vivacious advertisement. We flocked to this bumpy highway full of information nonetheless, sure we would not be the victims of its many potholes. As the cars around us fell into the ever-widening, invisible cracks, we cruised on smoothly, not a care in the world. It’s only a matter of time before our own car collapses, but until then our wheels continue to turn, picking up little pebbles and stones, churning them around for a bit, and then dropping them elsewhere. Our tires pound the pavement, and we search for a construction crew to recover the damage the many other cars have done to this once-perfect highway. But no such crew is in sight. And as you gaze out your window for the first time, marveling at the sight of the highway, you remember what it once was. Constructed and then left to crumble piece by piece, before it is no longer safe for travel without fear of damage to either the car, the passenger, or both. Thus ends the life of the highway, and only the highway knows when this end may near.
The depths were a screeching madness. They once filled minds with the curiosity of beyond, but as you stare into the heart of nothing itself, you know otherwise. As they gaze through the darkness, they realize that they themselves are nothing. They see the true meaning of life, staring into that abyss. And they go mad.
The stars. Small pinpricks of light, winking in and out of existence. They keep you in the past, never knowing the present image, of the stars you gaze upon. Each could be collapsing, as you behold the light, from centuries ago. Each could cave in on itself, imploding with iridescent qualities, then crumpling into oblivion. The planets were toys, new found objects to play with, and conquer. The gleaming surfaces beckoned, welcoming the travelers with open arms. But, as they entered the surface, the haven was not as it seemed. Each world with new dangers and destruction to overcome. Yet, they keep moving forward, hope pulling their arms. The screeching, the madness, the light, the danger, and the darkness. Drowning humanity in a world of pain. I aim the black, bulky object, cradling it in my hands, training my sights perfectly on the horizon, my target in mind. It’s not hard, I tell myself. You just point and shoot. It’s a piece of cake. I sigh, and shift the object. It’s getting heavier and heavier. I smile, and my target moves into focus. I shouldn’t be finding this so difficult. It’s not hard. You just point and shoot. Click goes the object, and I know it’s ready. My target is in the prime position. I grin, a devilish grin, and I know I shouldn’t be deriving this much joy from this. It’s not hard. You just point and shoot. Snap. A squealing noise as the picture prints out, and I smile, the sunset captured perfectly, trapped forever in the confines of a piece of glossy paper.
(Let’s be dramatic, because if it’s not dramatic, it’s not fun, right?) Let's not give her or him a name, because giving someone a name automatically puts a label on them. Instead, they will simply be 'they', because labels can be real, but are they really useful?
Let's start from the beginning. Not the very beginning, because that's where everyone starts, and not from the almost very end, because that's where everyone who doesn't want to be like everyone else starts their stories. But not in the middle. The middle is too confusing, like dropping you in a random country and hoping you can find your way out. No, we'll start at the mid-beginning, mid-middle area, so as to confuse but amuse you none the less. But first, a little backstory. So I guess, in fact, we are starting at the beginning. But don’t tell anyone. That removes the element of drama. And drama, as you may have noticed, gives the story character. Because of them, I am alive. I don't mean, oh, yes, they totally saved my life. I mean I am living because of them. Living: enjoying oneself.... well, living. There isn't really any other way to describe it. Living is not just surviving. Living is surviving, but with something to live for, and wanting to live for that something. Surviving: day to day....well...surviving. Not really living, not yet, at least. Lots of people survive. Not many decide to go beyond surviving, to reach the upper limits of humanity, to truly live. And I didn’t either. Not for a while. A soft breeze blew around swirling the leaves and dead grass around me dancing to a silent song that whistled through the air. I made my way towards the hill the wind playing with my hair gently, pulling it from my face as my skirt trailed behind me slowly. Despair and sorrow filled me as I tried to stay focused on the hard, dusty ground and the sloping hill that was sending me forward. I looked up to find the big oak tree that had been my refuge for a long time. I reached the dark brown oak and laid my hands upon the cool layers of wood that protected the tree from harm. I swung my feet into a crevice lifting myself into the arms of the tree. I nestled myself closely into the tree and finally began to feel relaxation taking over.
“What do I do?” I whispered leaning my head into the cool bark. The branches of the tree seemed to sway down, and I could feel the dark green leaves tickling my skin lightly as if they were reassuring me. For months the decision to leave my family and everyone I love and go on a journey with a stranger had daunted me. “If I leave, then I will never see anyone I love again. I will never sit here again,” I choked out. The wind picked up a bit and I listened hard waiting for an answer as the wind swirled in my ear making a noise to me that sounded like: “Is that what you want?” The wind continued to whirl loudly in my ear and I closed my eyes, and it was like I could hear the laughter in the air, taste the sunshine beaming down on me, smell the wafting smell of summer, and see my family here. There was a big blanket spread out on the green grass below the oak tree I sat in now, and my mom and dad were sitting on the blanket twenty years younger and watching me and my brother and sister climb the big branches of the oak tree. I saw my five year old self climbing as high as I dared go and my brother egging me to go farther while my sister watched from one of the lowest branches. We were laughing and singing and I could feel the love that radiated from my life. The image seemed to fade as the wind died down, and I opened my eyes, reminding myself that I was not five years old anymore but twenty five, yet it didn’t seem to matter. The tree had reminded me who I was and who loved me most and I knew that was what mattered most. I smiled and hugged the tree closely the old, wise branches seemed to warm against my touch and I felt as if the tree were hugging me back. “Thank you for helping me make my decision” I whispered into the branches before jumping off the oak tree and letting the wind guide me back to where I belonged. |
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