Mr. Whitfield- By: Riley Rivers

Chapter XIII

"Jesse, come back I'm sorry." Nicole tried to fix what she had done.
"Nicole, you can't undo the damage that's already been done." Jesse looked over his shoulder at her one last time and she tried to think of something to say. He waited a good long five minutes for her to say anything, then he turned his coat firmly around him and started walking down the street.
"Jess, come back I'm sorry!" She shouted and ran after him.
"Ugh, Nicole I'm done. I'm leaving for good, don't expect me to return." He walked off and she still followed him.
"Babe, can I please make this up to you? Please!"
"No! I'm done, Nicole. D-O-N-E, done! You've had millions of chances to rekindle our relationship and this time is not one of them. This is the last straw, it's going to take more than a miracle to bring me back home."
"Honey, could you at least look around?"
"At what, the world we live in? Nicole, this world that we live in is really crappy."
"Are you so sure? Look at what you have versus what you don't."
"What the hell do I have Nicole?! I used to have cancer now I don't!"
"Not that, you have a family and a son."
"Also I have you as a wife, what kind of point are you trying to make here?"
"I'm just saying a lot of people would kill to have a life like yours. Not many people have a loving and caring wife, not many people are able to see their children, and not many people are like you."
"No one is like me."
"Jess, there's only a couple of people that act like a Whitfield and most of them don't even have the same last name.
"You're right."
"So, will you appreciate what you have and come back home?"
"No! I'm not coming home. I love you, but sometimes you don't act like it."
"Jesse, please don't leave. You could get hurt or even killed by these gangs that roam the streets."
"Like you even care if I die or not!" He yelled and ran down the street.
Nicole kneeled down on the concrete and cried. "I wish you wouldn't leave."
Jesse walked down a notorious street known for its pugnacious people. He kept his hands in his pockets and an eye on his wallet, making sure no one would steal his stuff. A man watched as he walked by and he stopped him.
"Hey, brainy boy..."
Mr. Whitfield halted. "What?"
"Come here." He motioned and Jesse slowly stepped closer.
"Umm, are you going to hurt me?"
"Why goodness no! You cooperate with me and I promise I won't blow your head off."
"Oh, that's mighty nice." Jesse gulped. "What do you mean when you say ''cooperate?''
"You buy my merchandise and I won't kill you."
"So if I refuse?"
"I'll shoot your head off."
"Damn. You know I was just thinking I should start heading home..."
The man cocked a revolver and neared Jesse to a wall. He put the barrel to his head and smirked. "You can think twice about leaving, you're not going nowhere."
"Oh, ho, ho, ho. You must see there's a little misunderstanding. You see I kind of left my wife and I think I should be going back." Jesse stepped back away from the wall.
"Maybe you didn't understand, you're not leaving."
"Let-let's be rational about this ah-heh. I'm a science teacher for a High School and if you kill me a lot of students will be left behind untaught."
"I don't care." He neared the barrel in on his head.
"I have a family!" Jesse panted, breathlessly. "I have a family."
"Oh?"
"I have a baby son. He was just born yesterday and he doesn't need to know his father died because of some stupid mugger."
"You wanna cooperate now then?"
"Yes, I'll do anything to live and see my boy."
"Buy this."
"A-a gun?"
"Not just any gun. This is my latest creation, an MK forty-four."
"I've heard of Jericho nine millimeters and forty-four's, but I'm not familiar with MK forty-four's."
"It's a combination of my two favorite guns."
"Oh, so you like guns. And you want me to buy this, why?" Jesse asked.
"Nobody buys my guns. They say they're too oddly powerful and whatnot."
"Let me see what I have. Um..." Jesse checked his pockets.
"This will do." The man said pickpocketing his wallet.
"Hey! Hey! What the hell man?! You can't just take my wallet and not give me the merchandise!"
"Oh, here." He handed Jesse the gun and left.
"Damn, now I'll have to cancel my cards." Mr. Whitfield looked at the gun and sighed.
"Aren't you gonna use the gun?" The man shouted from a distance.
"Um, well..."
"Use the damn gun or else!" The man ran closer to him.
"I have a family I'm not going to-"
The man was now a foot away "Shoot or else."
"I'm not going to kill myself because some idiot told me to."
"I don't care if you blow your toe-off, shoot!"
"No."
"Shoot."
"No."
"Shoot god damn it!"
"I'm not going to shoot."
"Then I will!" The crook yelled and fired a hole right above Jesse's hip.
"Ahh!" He groaned and fell down holding his side."
"Oh, does your side hurt? What are you going to do, huh? Huh?"
"Ergh! Gah!" Jesse yelled and blew the crook's head off. Blood splattered everywhere and there was a loud smack. The next thing he knew the crook laid face down on the concrete dead, red oozing from his head. Mr. Whitfield looked at the body lying there and breathed heavily exasperated. "Nighty night asshole." Jesse held his hand on his hurt side and shuffled back toward the brick wall in a squat-like position. He laid against the wall with a moan and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, he pulled it out and wiped the blood from the wound. He griped in pain and stuck the red handkerchief in the hole, he reached in his other pocket and pulled out another one, and applied pressure to the wound. "Aw sh*t. If I don't get some help soon, I'll wind up dead. Aw ****" Jesse slouched down and began to cry but stopped since it hurt too bad. Mr. Whitfield picked up the gun that laid beside him and cocked it. He slowly brought the barrel to his head with jittery hands and readied the trigger, he was going to kill himself. Before he pulled the trigger, he recalled his wife's words.