( First Person Point of View: Scott)
I already reached the coffee shop, still as usual, full of people. Addiction seemed pervasive to all of the people inside.
Where is he?
I made my way inside, prying my body to the innumerable bodies of other people. I tiptoed and bobbed my head up to find Marcus. But I can barely see, cause a six footer blocks my vision. I stared at his face.
" Allen Iverson?" I was starstruck. He wore baggy clothes and jewelries.
He laughed and patted my shoulder before turning his back to me.
" Follow me." He whispered and grabbed my hand. I can feel the sweat in his hands. Gross. Veins stretched from his hand up to his arms. Too much basketball nigga?
We eke ourselves out of the crowd. We ignored the spilling coffees on our clothes, we just focused on our itinerary.
I inhaled for air, but the space was too inadequate. A flabby 400 pound man wearing white sleeveless undershirt pressed his body beside me when an elderly woman with white curly hair wearing a Cardigan sweater and petite polyester pants with elastic waist perambulated in front of him with a walker towards the exit and her son carried her XOXO Hobo black bag. I struggle to move forward when more people gathered around me and compress their exposed damped arms into my skin. Crap! Crap! Get the hell out! That Iverson nigga, left me here and didn't save me from this shit!
I can't breathe. Different emetic smells were released from their pores.
There's already a freaking traffic!
People were moving in different shambolic directions making my world spin upside down. Then my vision blacked out.
YOU ARE READING
Forgotten
Mystery / ThrillerEverybody wants to be perfect. In achieving perfection, a man named Byron Adams didn't know that he'll be the first variable in the experiment. Dreams that he'll encounter, will the experiment be a success? The world had gone rogue and wicked. To cu...
