Javier woke up groggy. His head felt like someone had beaten it as a base drum. It was pounding almost as much as his heart. He was lying on his back, with gravel digging into his shoulder blades. He didn't know where he was. It was obviously morning. The sun was streaming through the iron bars of the fire escape above him. So he was in a alley... Oh God. It all came rushing back to him. The walk. The talking. The fight. Oh God, the fight. He raised his head an looked down at his chest. Then, he looked around the alley. He groaned. There was blood everywhere. All over his clothes, the ground, the wall. Remembering the gun, he frantically checked for bullet wounds. There were none, but a couple of shallow knife scratches, where some blood was still leaking from. Then he realized. Where was his knife?! He frantically checked his pockets. Nothing. So they took his paycheck too. No doubt it was well on it's way to having paid for more liquor and drugs. He frantically looked around for his knife. He saw the hilt a few feet away from him. He grabbed it, and tried to flick it open. Then he looked closer. Except for an inch of rough metal connected to the hilt, the blade was gone. Snapped off. He saw it across the alley. It was stuck in a piece of plywood that someone had left there. Hanging from it was a piece of paper. Written on it in what looked like red paint... (His blood, he realized, with a sickening turn of his gut) were the words "that's what you get. Pay up next time. Otherwise I'll put a bullet through your tiny brain".
His Grandmother was not going to like this.Sorry, short chapter. I know. I have been busy. Please comment with your feed back. Also, share. This is my first story and I want to try and do well. Thanks. You guys are awesome!
YOU ARE READING
This Won't Be Easy
General FictionA boy stricken in poverty needs to decide whether to fix what he has, or abandon in search of a better life.