Failed attempts to fly

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\\\\So here's chapter eight as i promised guys!!////

I was afraid to wake up. I didn’t know what I was going to see. I just hoped Anthony was fine, I couldn’t afford to lose him, not yet. We had changed a lot in those days: we had opened our eyes and saw who really was the person we liked to call ‘best friend’.  And I cared more than before about him because I knew he was just like me, broken and confused.  

I took courage and opened my eyes just to see that I had been blindfolded. Luckily my hands were free. I removed the fabric from my eyes, it took me few seconds to see again because after the complete dark, light is difficult to accept. Anthony was next to me, tied up and blindfolded as well. He was so still and his breath seemed regular and calm. As he heard noise coming from his side he turned his head around and tried to protect his face with his tied arms. He fought to free himself, but every effort was futile. He looked like a poor animal that had just been exported from his natural habitat, ready to be slaughtered and eaten, hopeful that his moans would have helped him. I had never seen him like that, so vulnerable and hopeless, sweat coming down his temples.

“Don’t worry Ant, it’s me.” He calmed down as I touched his leg and removed the blindfold. His brown eyes were wet and his checks bright red.

“Are you ok? Did they hurt you?” He asked.

“No they didn’t. Did they hurt YOU?” I asked him looking at his velvety eyes. He touched his ribs and nodded like a kid who has just admitted something bad.

“I think they kicked me. No big deal though, I’m happy you’re fine. I called the police when we were in the house. So I guess they’ll eventually find us… I’m sorry, you were right.” He said with a sorry face. I was happy he believed me, I was happy he cared.  

Someone was walking towards us, his heavy steps echoed all around us so I stood up to protect Anthony who was still lying on the ground.  There was a man in front of us now with a gun and a knife in his big hairy hands. He grinned and pushed me away so he could grab Anthony’s hair and point the gun towards me. My helpless friend screamed and sat on his knees.

“Let’s get straight to the point.” The man said. “Where’s the money?” he pulled Anthony’s hair more when none of us answered.

“We don’t know, let him go!” I shouted seeing Anthony’s eyes water more. He did let him go, collide with the cold ground.  I felt his hands grab my shirt and pull me closer to his ruined face, so close I could feel his bad breath hit my skin.

“Bullshit.” He guided his knife to my throat and pushed so hard I could barely breathe. Of course there was no way to reason with him, he was violent and would have cut my throat without delay.

“ Now, the only reason why you’re still alive is because you can tell me about the money and I’ll give you one more opportunity to tell me where it is and believe me when I say that this time I won’t accept ‘I don’t know’ as an answer.”

“I can’t give you the money back. I don’t have it anymore.” Anthony said. The man grinded his teeth and let me go. I have never been so afraid in my whole life. The guns, knives and my best friend hurt made a terrible scenario. And I was afraid for him, not for me because I found him recently, I pondered of us and realized that he was the only thing I had left. I had lost everything of the old me: habits, expressions, friends, behaviors… He was the only thing that reminded me of who I was before, of who WE were. We had always been next to each other, ignoring other people, ignoring the world around us because WE were our world. I couldn’t lose him; I couldn’t lose that part of me. So I tried to save him and I knew I was late. So I tried not to believe my eyes and tell me a different story.

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