In Her Shoes

Chapter 9: How the Witch Killed The King

Hey everyone! Just a little update. I realized later on in the story that I needed to edit some things further back in the story so it all makes sense and fits together. If you already read this chapter just one little tiny thing is added, but I swear that's really all. Sorry if this throws you off; but trust me you'll understand later on when you get deeper in the story if you're a first time reader. Enjoy :) 

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When I came to I was alone in an alley way. I sat up slowly, careful not to make the already spinning world spin too much out of orbit, and looked around. The alleyway was still had a few puddles of water here and there from the small rain that had occurred earlier that morning.

All around me were small little splatters of blood, probably from the attack that had ensued earlier. I felt my pockets and still felt the folded up hundred in my pocket, so if I was mugged they weren't very good at their job or they just didn't know I had money. 

But then I felt the dried up blood on my upper lip and remembered getting kicked in the face by some girl we had attacked earlier... 

Attack? I repeated to myself, No there was no attack...we were trying to help her... I rose a little too quickly and felt my stomach leap straight to my throat. I turned to the wall and put my hands on it to steady myself, all the while puking my guts out. 

After I was through I looked around and my head started to clear slowly: Girl. Ronny. Aaron. Me. "Ugh," I groaned aloud, "I don't have time to think about this right now...." And I stumbled my way back to my car.

On the way back there was an old bum sitting against the wall with a bunch of blankets, a shopping cart full of crap, and a mean beard that desperately needed shaving. He reached out his hat to me that by the looks of the crumpled dollars and change probably added up to thirty dollars.  

"Please..." he rasped, his voice was muffled behind his mustache, "ten more dollars and I might still be able to get a room for the night..." 

The hundred in my pocket seemed very visible right now. 

But then I remembered how my dad was always rambling on how the poor are useless and pathetic, and sit around begging for money when they never tried to get off their asses and make money. The poor were filthy rats who were not to be trusted. 

I whacked his hat to the ground with the back of my hand. "Get a job ya bum! You think everyone who isn't a shabby looking a you is a millionaire?" Although I have to admit, I was. "If it were up to me all the poor should be lined up and shot for contributing nothing to society and dragging this economy down!" I spat at him as he scrambled to pick the rolling change and blowing bills that spiraled away from him. "Pathetic.." I mumbled to myself as I stormed off to my car. 

I put the key in ignition and began to pull out. As I looked through my review mirror I thought I saw a ghostly white figure standing behind me. I peered closer into my mirror and though I couldn't quite tell who it was, I was definitely able to tell it was human.

There was something oddly familiar about the face...it was a dark night and whoever it was was wearing so much black their white face was all I could see. I looked over to my left to make sure I was clear, and when I looked back a pair of protrusive glowing, neon green orbs were glaring at me where the road should've been. She was so close I had to literally slam on the brakes seconds before my bumper slammed into her. 

"Whoa!" I shouted, braking immediately. I hit her. Ding-dong the wicked bitch is dead. But still....I could go to jail... I jumped out of the car and checked for any curled up feet beneath my bumper or any decapitated body parts...but there was nothing. Not even a shoe. But I had to've hit her. She was literally right behind my car and now...hm... When I think about it I didn't felt any bumping beneath my tires... Hm... strange... I eventually clambered back in and decided it must be the drunk-ness.