The humanization process

Interruption

"Jhett? Hey, Jhett!" I lifted my eyes from my task to look at my manager. The job I had gotten was at a diner called Betty's, and I was currently being trained in taking orders. I smiled down at the family I had taken the orders of.

"We'll get on that as quickly as possible, but for now, enjoy your stay at Betty's Diner!" I then turned away, smile dropping, and walked over to the manager. She was a tall woman in her thirties with black hair and dark skin. She was invested deeply in her role and made sure that everything was perfect down to how we walked. 

Placing the order on the counter, I watched as a chef quickly snatched it, yelling out the order to the rest of the kitchen help. I then looked back to the manager. "What did I do wrong this time?" I asked flatly. 

With a frown, she pointed at my lips. "Your facial expression is too zoned out. You're making it seem like you don't care about anybody that you take the orders of!" Her nostrils flared out and she put her hands on her hips.

I let out a little sigh. "Well, frankly, Tanya, I don't care about anybody in this whole diner, including you. Keep your opinions to yourself and help out someone who's actually struggling." 

Her mouth opened in a gasp. "How dare you? That attitude is gonna come out of your paycheck one day, young man. Now get back to work!" 

Home

I slammed the door of my apartment open, walking in with a takeout box in my hands. A chef had messed up on an order, so I had been allowed to take it home to eat. 

Closing the door behind me with one foot, I dropped my keys in a glass bowl full of little knick-knacks I ended up using in some or another. I took off my red leather jacket and hung it up on a hook protruding from the door. I then walked into the living room, falling down on a threadbare couch and opening the takeout box. I picked up the plastic fork and started eating in the silence of my apartment, not bothering to turn on the TV. 

Chewing on the slightly overcooked meatloaf, I cringed at the texture. I had never grown accustomed to the way solid food felt in my mouth. It must have been from the disorder I had gone through in my childhood. I shuddered at the thought and pushed it away, remembering the incident with the glass. Fingering my dark hair,  set the food aside, unable to stomach it now. 

I slumped further into the couch, curling my legs up to my chest. I promptly fell asleep, tired from the long hours of work.

▼▼▼

My eyes slit open as I heard a low thump. I yawned and sat up, cracking my neck. 

"What was that noi-?" The door to my apartment crashed to the floor, a man's collision with the flimsy thing the cause of the destruction. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, teeth clenched as he pressed one hand to a bloody head wound. 

My dark eyes widened dramatically as I bolted to a standing position and rushed over to the injured man. 

"Hey, are you okay?!" I questioned in alarm, bending down and tentatively brushing his shoulders with my fingertips. The smell of his blood made me catch my breath. Don't think about it. Blood is just a substance in your body--nothing more!

He took a haggard breath. "Stevens... kill me... money... rival..." The man kept muttering random words, some unintelligible. I furrowed my brows, unsure what to do. 

Should I call the police? An ambulance? Just take him to a doctor? What caused him to collide into the door? I don't know what to do!!!

"HEY!!!" A wild voice struck the air, cutting off the injured man's mumbling. Strutting up the stairs like the god of punishment, a blond man of large stature came into view. He held a gleaming pistol in one hand, the other hand occupied by the collar of an unconscious woman's shirt.  

The injured man rose to his feet with a scared shriek. I gasped, standing as well. What conflict had I stumbled upon? 

The blond dropped the woman, advancing slowly whilst cocking his gun. "Where is it, William?! I know you took it, so give it back! We had an agreement!!!" He roared out each word as he closed in on the man, William.

William's eyes darted over to my form, smiling nervously as he pushed back his black hair. What is he thinking? I'm not a-

Before I could finish my frantic thought, he was behind me, arms wrapped tight around my torso with a cocked pistol held to my side. The blond stopped, angry shock in his eyes. 

"I-I know you don't want any civilians involved!" William sputtered with a victorious smile. "Let me get away with this and I won't hurt him!" 

The other man scoffed. "I seriously doubt you would hurt him. You don't even have your gun pointed at his head." He took a few more steps forward, stopping when William screamed.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!!! I WILL KILL HIM!" I struggled in the taller man's grip, wincing as he shoved the muzzle sharply into my ribs. "Don't move and we'll both get out of this alive," he hissed. I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut for a second. 

How could this have happened? I was supposed to have a calm, highly normal life of a boring civilian. Becoming a victim was not on my bucket list! 

My breaths coming quickly, I let my eyes drift carefully over the scene. The blond man seemed to want something this William had stolen from him and was ready to kill him as long as it was resolved without any public disturbance. He had majorly failed at that part. And William- my eyes flicked behind me- he was scared enough to involve a civilian. It couldn't end well, not with both men being flooded with emotion.

The blond man laughed scornfully and began again to stalk toward us again, or rather, William and I. "Put the gun down, boy, you don't know how to use it." 

"I will shoot!" William exclaimed, fear creeping into his voice as he again jammed the pistol into my side. I groaned and squirmed in his vice. Someone help me. I don't want to die. I can't.

"William!" The man lurched forward, violence written in his expression. 

What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion. 

William let loose another shriek before falling backward in fright. As he hit the floor, his hands fumbled. My eyes glazed as the pain of a bullet tearing into my lower back flashed through. I collapsed on top of him, screaming in agony. 

William paused for a moment before cursing loudly and pushing me to the side. "Worthless brat," he spat out, tone darker. "You shouldn't have moved!" 

My head fell to the side, gaze blankly resting on the leg of a chair. Was it my fault? Had I moved? Wasn't it his fault? 

"William! YOU..." Suddenly, their words started to blend and mash together into incoherent screaming. With my head turned away, I couldn't tell what was happening at the moment, barely hearing more shots being fired. The pain in my side dulled, the feeling of warm blood filling my nerves.

What happened? Was William dead now? What about that unconscious woman? How was she even involved? Why did the blond have her?

Some of my senses came sharply back as a heavy form fell limply on top of me. My eyes bugged as I vomited blood from the pressure. I heard something crack, accompanied by hot flashes of immense pain. Another scream issued from my mouth, weaker this time. The heavy body was then dragged off of me, followed by the sound of pained moaning. 

I exhaled shallowly, feeling the sharp end of a broken bone puncturing something inside me. My eyes started to flutter closed before another hot flash wrenched me back into reality. Something... Something was burning inside of me! 

I almost bit my tongue off as the pain began to literally eat at me. My stomach... It must have been what was punctured! I let out a whimper, hand clenching and unclenching. If I had to die, why could it not be painless? Was I being punished for some unknown sin? 

Something hit me, causing me to roll onto my stomach. A massive amount of blooded gushed from my wound as a crunch sounded from my torso. Too tired to scream, I just closed my eyes, begging to whatever god was up there to end my life quicker. 

I let out a last shuddering breath.