The Don

Alleyway✠

The don

Alice

My bare feet hit the grass, shards of green tickling my skin. My ankles felt like they were twigs, snapping when someone had trampled on them; Dizziness and fatigue washing over me in an unpleasant manner. In that second of screams and shouts tumbling through the air, I realised that I hadn't even looked to see if I was on the ground floor; But it's not like I particularly cared, I'm already dying. Sirens echoed in the distance, making me dash. My legs refused to go far as they were tired, but the thought of being caught scared me, it terrified me. Cobble and stone cut away at my feet, sending shocks of pain and soreness up my legs. 

Whimpers and wheezes escaped my mouth mixed in with my breathing as I raced against the wind. Just me and the trees racing against each other in an escape from those chasing me; A mere 15 year old with nowhere to go. The breeze slapped against my body in cold waves, numbing whatever feeling I had, leaving my body to shiver and shake with chills. A similar feeling of fatigue and exhaustion washing over me, my body hot and cold all at once. 

Sirens became louder, deafening me. I took the nearest turn into an alleyway; A dark and shady alleyway. My feet stumbled into the shadows, escaping any eyes before they could notice me. My boney hands made contact with the brick wall, gripping onto the roughness for some sort of stability. Dots of black danced in and out of my sight, erasing colours and replacing them with much duller, more melancholic shades. My heat pounded erratically in my ribcage, the ever so loud sound making its presence in my brain; Like a butterfly flapping its wings. The constant thumping in my head driving me to some point of insanity. 

I turned away from the wall, only to slide my back down it, not caring for the scraping it made against my skin. The dizziness was becoming too much, I needed a moment, just a second to recollect myself. My body hit the stone-cold concrete beneath me, sharp jolts shooting up my torso. I hissed from the stabbing feeling erupting in me. My hands found my hair, tearing at it, ripping the strands in frustration; The weight of the world was on my shoulders, and it was unbearable. And this pressure on my heart hurt, every breath sent a new strike of pain through my chest. My hands only gripped tighter, nails digging into my palms as I tried to balance out the feelings. Nausea sat in the pit of my stomach and tripled about while my breathing picked up, heavy breaths quickly inhaling and exhaling from my lungs. I wanted to scream; Turn my voice into hoarse rasps from letting all of this out. But I held it in, my skeletal frame trembling and trying to overpower sobs, only to choke on them.  

It was as though I was on some sort of cloud, surrounded by all of these problems and thoughts that I just couldn't rid my self of; I felt so light, so weightless. My body didn't have any weight to it, I was completely free. I was floating. And yet the pressure on my chest never died, it stayed stabbing into my heart. 

I could feel the tears stream down my boney and pale cheeks, tumbling over my bruised bags. The adrenaline from escaping the hospital had worn off, and my body was taking its toll. Each moment and sob that passed through my body, only gave me more height on my cloud of thunder. It was readying to strike onto the source of my problems; Life. 

But then it stopped rising higher into the sky, making me realise I hadn't even left the ground. And that my body was still sat hunched over in a shady alleyway; The hospital gown still attached to my body and my clothes sprawled out. Sniffles overtook as I reached for them, needing to get out of this constant reminder. Stumbling about, I managed to stand in my feeble state, stepping one foot into a leg of my joggers, the other foot into the other. 

Thoughts clouded my mind, firing questions about what I was going to do next, gathering anxiety in my stomach as I finished changing. What was I going to do? There was a night shelter I could stay at for the night while I make some sort of plans, but wouldn't they ask questions? Of course they would; I was a child. Then the police would be called and- I cut my train of thoughts off as shouts echoed through the wind. Male voices especially. They weren't trying to be loud, I could tell, but the wind carried the cold voices along the air, muffling them with russles of nearby trees. 

My curiosity got the best of me, and my weak person walked along the darkness with my wind at my side, discarding the hospital gown somewhere on the ground. In my sight were two guys ganging up on a lone man, a shabby looking one at that. I hid behind a bin, slightly peeking to the scene. The victim had messy overgrown hair falling down to his shoulders, unshaven stubble rubbing along his jaw and a crazed look in his eyes as though he wasn't very fazed by the men. The well-kept men, one with his colossal man hands gripping him to the wall by his neck and the other pointing a gun directly at his face; Both wearing black suits and black hair, the first with a quiff and the other waving over his forehead. Stern looks on their faces and their eyes hardened at the haggard druggy in front of them. 

"Where is our payment, Thiago?" The one with the gun asked menacingly, making chills crawl down my back, leaving an unsettling feeling settle within me. A dazed smile coated the victim's face, oblivious to the position he was in. The guy's hand tightened around his neck, slamming him into the brick wall viciously, veins poking out of the hands, running up his uncovered arms as his sleeves were rolled up. I jumped slightly, forcing in a frightened squeal. 

"I'll get it some point next week." His voice gritty and weak. "We told you to give it us 3 days ago, that was your deadline." His gun moving slightly to aim it between his blood shot eyes. The deranged man only laughed, hysterically laughing out a choky rumble and coughing from lack of oxygen. The guy with the gun only huffed, rolling his eyes and the men both glanced at each other knowingly. And then the gun went off, firing into the poor man's skull. I turned away from the scene before I witnessed too much gore, my heart ringing in my ears. 

"Call one of our men to clean this up Von." The one who fired the gun said, glumly commanding what looked like his brother before they both walked off, leaving the once alive body to drain of blood and run cold. As soon as the men were out of sight, I ran, forgetting about the dizziness and weakness in my bones, only reliving the scene over and over again. Subconsciously making my way to the night shelter.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi, new update! Hope your like it, thank you for reading!

A.V..✫*ﾟ·ﾟ。.☆.*。