Painting

Painting

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, May 22, 2015
I remember that day like it was yesterday. Although, it was three years ago. The day I should of died for being at the wrong place and the wrong time. I just got extremely lucky that he had a heart to spare my life for my silence and since that day made sure I was alway protected. I alway thought I would never know why he did what he did. After three years he came back and he wanted something I didn't know I had all those years. His heart.
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Illustration

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"Wait!" I called out to the dark shadow figure that was leaving without turning back. "Please," my voice wavered as I eyed the bleeding body that laid on the ground ay my feet. Swallowing the urge to vomit, I stepped over his body, reminding myself that the dead man was going to kill me if he wasn't dead. "Go home." The figure demanded in a low voice that echoed from the walls of the alley. I never believed in the stories about tall, dark-aura, scary men that roamed dark alleys like their home. The ones that wouldn't bat an eye at killing someone in order to get what they wanted. The ones who ran the most dangerous organizations, yet never got caught by the government security. I never believed that, it all seemed like a fantasy. That was, until it became my reality.

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