PRETTY DATES

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o n e
edited (01. 10. 19)
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Grey bleak clouds covered the sky and sun, only allowing smalls rays off light come out of certain spots. The dried autumn leaves that had fallen from the trees dance around in the wind as I walked along the concrete pathway. The cinema, a cream painted building,  stood tall and proud in front of me, its red neon lights still on despite it being daytime and bold black letters screamed movie titles and times.

I stared out into the crowd that surrounded the building, looking for the man I was supposed to meet. I only saw crying kids and their parents, teenagers gossiping busily and adults checked the time, tapping impatiently as the seconds ticked by.  He wasn't here. I took it as my only solution to use my powers. Filtering thoughts in and out of my mind, I could feel people passing me watching me in confusion— they were all asking the same question; why is that woman standing there with her eyes closed?

I had no time to answer the question though, I had to find him. I continued what I was doing when one thought stopped me in my tracks, making my eyes widen. Someone was getting beaten up. The feeling that urged me to be a hero won over the one that said to let it go, and I took off to find owner of the thought I had just heard.

The alleyway was the dark and dirty. Rats scurried about broken glass shards that belonged to beer bottles and crushed cigarettes were littered everywhere. Trash cans were full to the brim, smelling of rotten food and vomit. Yellow pieces of paper that used to be taped up on the walls were torn and scrunched up on the floor.

I slow down as I hear the voice in my head grow louder and louder. Creeping down behind a bin, I wrinkle my nose as I took in a breathe of the putrid smell of garbage. I couldn't resist but cough, desperately wanting to get the smell out of my lungs.  As I do, a voice makes me perk up my ears.

"Whose there? You better come out! Now!" I peek my head out from the corner of the garbage bin, surveying the scene in front of me. A skinny man with his back against the wall stares with widen eyes when our eyes met, his arms that carried a trash can lid faltered a bit.  Another man, with his ruffled black hair and hawklike eyes scanned the area, his thick eyebrows furrowing in fury.

"Come out! I can see you!" His immensely loud voice makes me jump as he roars. I realise I have no choice but to walk out if I wanted to help the victim. So I do, and when he sees me, he laughs. What a fool.

"Are you lost, doll?" I feel myself burn with rage as he says those words. I grit my teeth, taking deep breaths to stop myself from killing him in this instance.

"No. I'm not lost. Why are you hurting that poor man behind you?" I say, deadly calm as I look him in the eye.

"It's none of your business doll, plus, it's not like you could help him anyway," He says, waving it off like it is nothing. I finally snap, walking over to him with a glare.

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄. STEVE ROGERSWhere stories live. Discover now