Stay or Go, Torn Pariah
For a split second, and perhaps for the first time in my life, I felt torn. Here before me was the other side of the coin, a clean existence full of smiling faces, faces free of pain and death and all the other things that seemed to stalk my life. Outside, something was going down, something brutal, something dangerous.
I hesitated, which I regret, but I will likely justify as reasonable considering my new pseudo-status in the gang. Still, I managed a rude gesture for the girls who’d been looking at me as I bolted out the door. That’s gotta count for something, right?
Pillars to my left, glass storefronts to my right, I sprinted back toward the electronics store. If the gunshots hadn’t come from there, I didn’t care where they were. My mind reeled at the sight, probably helped along by the lightheadedness that comes from a sudden spurt of running.
But there were the geeks, the friggin’ geeks, backing out of the store with a gun, with a gun! The geek had a gun. But who or what had he shot?