the friend was walking down the alley. dim light shone across the street, while the moon hid behind clouds. as usual he wore a hoodie, the strings knotted together, his coat open; he hated how it felt when it was zipped up. he stopped and his hand disappeared inside his pocket as he fished out a pack of cigarettes. he took one out and placed one between his lips, lighting it up.
guy: beat it, asshole. can't you see this alley is off-limits for filthy rats like you?
he looked up. three guys stood in front of him. they had their hands crossed, flashing a wide grin as they eyed him. the friend simply looked back at them, taking a puff from his cigarette.
guy: you heard me, fuck off.
the friend chuckled softly and inhaled another time before throwing the unfinished cigarette onto the floor. he brushed a hand through his hair.
friend: or what, huh? you feeling tough?
the guy who had been speaking cocked an eyebrow. for a second his eyes flashed in confusion, but he straightened his back, head held up high.
guy: last warning. or are you looking for a fight?
the friend let out a laugh. emptily, cunningly.
friend: that was the general idea, yea.
he had just enough time to crush the cigarette below his foot before a fist reached his cheek. and he coughed. a crooked grin appeared on his face.
guy: you asked for it, freak.
YOU ARE READING
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄
Short Storyan almost decade old story. * "one tragedy changed their lives." a story with dialogues and minimal description, in which a boy ends up in the hospital after a car accident and his friend slowly collapsing under the weight of his tortured mind. but...
