Leslie stood, wide eyed with his hand over his mouth for a moment. The music kept going. He motioned to someone on the other side of the stage.
I glanced back at Darren. He was clutching his shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut.
Wait.
Alexander Hamilton was shot in the stomach.
My eyes shot open. Jon stood in front of me, fiddling with a pocket knife. My pocket knife.
"Good morning sunshine."
He smirked at me.
"I despise you with every fiber of my being."
He stood up and ran the knife gently across my cheek.
"You shouldn't speak to me with hate."
He drew his hand back from my face.
"I brought you something."
I noticed his left hand was tucked behind his back.
I squinted in the darkness as he held it out. It was a camera.
"What is this supposed to be?"
He pushed a button.
It was the scene when D got shot.
I kicked his shin.
"Fuck you!"
I yelled and screamed at him.
He hit the camera over my head.
My vision blurred for a moment.
"Are we ready to use our inside voice now?"
I motioned for him to come closer with my head.
"I will kill you." I said in a quiet voice.
He smiled.
"Not if I beat you to it."
With that he left me in the dark.
Literally.
YOU ARE READING
New York- Where Dreams are Made
General FictionCharlotte Spencer is a small town girl. She dreams her entire life of going to New York. Her life in the town she grew up in isn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows. She struggles to make it out of the horrid place and fight her way to the top. S...
