adrenaline ; j.g

eighteen

:: Jack ::

 "Yo, dude why the fuck did you do that?" I hear someone shout. I hear the others mumbling profanities before they all depart from me and start running. Once they do, that's when I notice the seeping blood coming from my shirt.

My eyes widened at the sight and I can't believe one of them actually had the balls to fucking stab me.

I reach down and press one of my hands on the wound, while I try to search for my phone in my pockets with the other.

With pure pain and discomfort, I finally feel the shape of my phone in my back pocket, so I pull it out and bring it to my face. Much to my luck, the thing is cracked. I try pressing the power button multiple times, but when I only see a black screen each time, I know it has to be fully broken.

I clench it tightly in my hands before I throw the phone at the wall in anger. I watch as it shatters into pieces, littering the ground beneath it.

I remove one of my hands from my wound and place it on the ground to balance myself as I try to get up.

After minutes of pausing, aching, and hesitation I finally rise to my feet, the pain seeming to have heightened from all of my moving and shuffling.

I walk out of the alley, making sure to curtain my visible bloody shirt with my leather jacket. I didn't want anyone to get suspicious and call the cops, or see a cop for that matter. I know I didn't do anything wrong, but they'd take me in and search my record; my bad record at that.

I rack my brain for options and I contemplate on just walking home, but I know it wouldn't be smart. It's too far of a walk and I can already picture myself passing out or my blood dripping down the sidewalk, as people frantically call the cops or try to escort me to the hospital.

I search the streets and that's when my eyes land on a pizza shop. They have to a phone I can use.

Crossing the street, I walk into the restaurant and I'm welcomed with curious people looking at me, their eyes raking me up and down. I glance down at my abdomen to see if they were looking at anything in particular. Just as I do, a drop of blood leaks from my shirt and down onto my shoe.

I quickly look up to see if anyone saw, scanning my eyes from one side of the room to the other. Most people have already looked down and returned to their food, but one couple sticks out to me the most. They're still looking at me with squinted eyes and knitted eyebrows. As soon as we make eye contact, they hastily tear their eyes away from me and look at each other instead.

I roll my eyes. I couldn't do anything about the situation, so I try to ignore it as I walk up to the front counter.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" the employee greets, forcing a smile onto his face.

"Do you have a phone I can use? Like in the back?" I ask. I wince as another sharp and much more noticeable pain runs through my hip.

"Yes, but it's only for employees only. Sorry," he responds, his smile still there but much more weak this time.

"Well can I use it for like one second? I lost my phone," I partially lied, my patience wearing thin.

"No," he replies. "Sorry." He gives me another weak and forced smile before he turns away and starts heading into the back.

Did he really just turn his back on me when I'm still talking to him? I quickly become heated, mainly because my irritability level is already through the roof because of those other assholes.

Without even thinking, I grab the guy's collar and force him to turn and look at me. When we meet eyes, his are filled with concern and fear, while mine are filled with anger and frustration.

"Woah man, calm down," he urges, putting his hands up in surrender.

I tighten my grip on his collar, both of my hands on both ends. "I will calm down when you just let me use the phone for fucking two seconds," I growl, shaking him with each last word.

"I can't sir, it's not my place," the employee responds, pausing slightly on each word to make sure he picked the right ones.

"It's a fucking phone, it's not like I'm asking you to give me your damn money," I groan.

"It's around here. Just come on," a voice interrupts us.

I look behind the guy and notice a girl, standing just a few feet away, I roll my eyes as I release and push him, sending him tumbling backwards before I head in the direction of the girl.

Once I reach her, she points to a phone in the corner. I nod my head in thanks before I walk over to it and start dialing the number of Sam's.

"Hello?" he answers after a few rings.

"You need to come pick me up, like right fucking now," I command, my anger still at an unhealthy rate.

 "Yo, what's the matter?" he asks, his tone getting much more stern and serious.

"I'll let you know when you get here. I'll be in our usual place," I tell him. "Imma let you go though because these people are up my ass," I groan as I end the call and slam the phone back onto the hook.

"Thanks, now was that so hard?" I bitterly ask as I secure my leather jacket in place once again and start walking towards the door. Everyone's looking at me, some trying to be sneaky about to, but clearly failing.

"Show's over, keep eating your fucking food," I shout as I roughly push the door open and head back over to the alley to wait for Sam. I sit down on the ground, my back pressed up against the brick wall as I try to keep a steady pressure on my injury. I hope he's quick because I can already feel myself getting dizzy.

A few long minutes pass and Sammy should have and could have been here by now, but he isn't. I know I shouldn't have called him; he's late for everything.

I lift my head up from my knees as soon as I hear the sound of police sirens. I expect to see them flying down the street, but when I look outside the alley, they stopped right in front of the pizza shop. Great.

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* a/n *

yo sorry for not updating for a few days but it's my last few weeks of summer so im just trying to get a lot of things done

idk how i feel about this chapter, but vote & comment and let me know xx

~ amy