The man slowly dropped to his knees, his hands clinging to his stomach trying hard to choke out the stream of blood flowing from the knife wound. Pain tore through him like none he had ever felt as a boot slammed into his shoulder and sent him sprawling a crossed the cold damp pavement of the alley. He looked up at the group who had pulled him into the alley and half starved, dirty faces looked back in a way a dog looks at a bone. They quickly swarmed around him, stripping him of everything that held value until he was wearing nothing but a bloodied undershirt before scattering down the alley.
He watched them leave in silence, too stunned to speak. Only moments ago he was making his way back to his apartment before he was suddenly dragged off the streets by those lowlifes. Reality kicked in and he found himself floundering on the ground as pain pulsated through his entire body. It slowly dawned on him he was bleeding out, and panic began to slowly build up inside of him as he tossed around looking for someone or something to help him. From the edge of his vision he saw movement. He looked up and watched as crowds of people strolled past the dark alley on their way home just like he was.
He cried out for help, hoping one of them would glance his way, hoping one would realize there was a man dying just several feet away from them. But despite his pleading, they all acted like he was just another rat in the gutter. They were all like him; beautiful, carefree, arrogant of the world around them as they went about their own lives. Ignoring the increasing gap between the rich and poor. Ignoring the hundreds dying in the street, just like he was, knowing the next day the street sweeper would have dispensed away with the body later.
The man’s panic and the fear of his own death began to over flow as he continued to watch them pass by without a glance. Tears swelled up, blurring his vision as he screamed for them to take notice of him until his voice became to course to speak. Too exhausted and becoming more light headed by the second, he let himself slump to the ground nearing the brink of unconsciousness. His body was slowly becoming numb, the pain once unbearable now fading away as he looked upward at the grey, corrupt sky. He could picture the void no mortal man could go, hidden away in those bleak clouds above. The giant golden gates to a paradise cut off from this world. But, the closer he came to seeing them, the more he realized that those gates would never open. He tried to picture a different alternative. Maybe if he hadn’t committed so many unspeakable acts it wouldn’t have had to end like this and he would have been able to see beyond that intricate wall of light.
As the man’s vision began to cloud his thoughts began to race. He didn’t want to die. Not like this!
…
Then, with a wheezing sigh, he thought nothing.
