The Craziest Of Them All

I

I pump my sausage legs to run faster, the sound of my Nike clad feet slamming on to the concrete that made up the pavement are accompanied by my loud and ragged breaths. My heart is literally jumping out of my throat, as each beat thumps loudly in my ears. To showcase just how unhealthy I am, my lungs feel as if someone threw a live matchstick down my throat and set my lungs on fire.

While keeping my running pace steady, I hastily look behind my shoulder to see if my assailant is still behind me, trying to capture me. I am pleased to discover that there is no one behind me. I slow down a little so that I can do a quick scan of my surroundings in order for me to know where to go next. My eyes hungrily wonder over a semi dark street. There is no one in sight and all shops that are in the street have already been closed down for the night. The street light above my head flickers violently for a few seconds; it’s almost as if the street light is warning me to hurry up, that I don’t have much time left. Scanning the abandoned street one last time, I see a small opening between two grimy brick buildings. With my body in full flight or fight mode, I make a quick decision and duck into the a dark alley on my right that is between the two buildings. This is probably a bad idea considering that all bad things in movies seem to happen in dark alleys. I mean, Batman’s parents got killed in a dark alley, which’s to say I’m not next. I'm literally in this situation because of a stupid dark alley. But what choice do I have, I either go into the alley and stand a chance of escaping or I can wait right here and my assailant can kill me on the spot. 

In the alley between the two tall buildings, I run like a headless chicken, praying that at the alley will lead to a back way into the next street. With that hope in mind, I venture deeper into the dark alley. I can hear the sounds of something scratching against something else, but I ignore it and continue looking for an exit. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach when at the end of the alley, instead of finding a way to my freedom; I am instead met with an equally grimy wall as the building it is situated between. I have run into a dead end. With my escape plan completely ruined, , I take a second to scan my surroundings once more, but this time for a good hiding spot. If I cannot escape this alleyway the next best thing I can do is hide, and hope that my assailant doesn’t find me. In my peripheral vision I spot some stray cats attacking a cluster of black garbage bags in one side.

At the sight of the cats, a shiver runs down my spine. The way I hate cats! They are just freaky animals that scare the living shit out of me, when they look at you, it is as if they are staring right into your soul and I hate that feeling so much. Another cold shiver travels through me, but I decide to ignore the cats and continue to scan the area. 

Next to the black bags that are being mercilessly attacked by the starving felines, is a moss green metal dumpster. Not paying any attention to the meows of the busy cats, I run over to the dumpster and open the heavy metal lid up to expose what is inside the dumpster. The open lid lightly bangs onto the wall behind the bin. Instantly, an atrocious smell attacks my senses at all angles. The inside of the bin smells like a man with diarrhoea, farted into a jar and sealed it shut and then someone else opened the jar one hundred years later and threw it into the dumpster after puking in it first. Then the fart and vomit filled jar was left in the heat of ten summers. The point being that it smells really, really, really, really bad. So bad, that it makes me want close the lid but the sound of approaching footsteps makes me open the half closed lid back up again.

"Shit" I whisper under my breath. After a second of hesitation, I take in a deep breath and my mouth bulges as I keep in as much air as I can. I place my hands on the lip of the dustbin and hoist my heavy ass over into the dumpster. Half way into the dumpster, my hand comes into contact with something wet and slippery, causing me to lose my grip and fall face first into the smelly trash at the bottom of the dumpster. My face connects with the bumpy garbage bag. Sitting up I hastily wipe my hand that touched the unknown wet substance.