Seven hours

The broad vibrant sign that read, “Welcome to Tokyo Japan!” came into view, aligning with the twilight skies that proclaimed it midnight. The sign leaving sight, as I turned the corner of the city into downtown, heading to my apartment, from my three hour shift at Starbucks. My name is Teekeywa; I’m a male, 23 year old, and had devoted the worst five years of my life, involved with one of the most violent gangs in Japan called Hadini (meaning red spider in Japanese), before abandoning my notorious gang life last month to begin anew. My phone abruptly rang to the sound of my heartbeat, breaking my absent state of mind into consciousness. I began jerking my phone out of my pocket hastily, and then jamming the cold metal phone to my ear. Then, suddenly, hearing a very rigid demanding voice which overwhelms me with memories of “projects” I was offered in the past.
“Hey, Teekeywa, we need you to undertake an objective. You’ll be getting a yellow envelope for your target; they’ll be offering you 8 million American dollars.” He explains. My eyes grew wide with the most disgusted feeling I have ever felt.
“No.” I refuse, anger replacing my emotions.
“Well, you better think about it, because if you don’t get the job done, they’ll finish you.” He proclaims. I didn’t feel the least bit threatened by his statement. He whispers violently into the phone, “You have exactly seven hours”, before hanging up, leaving me unsettled with boundless shock and enticing outrage.
Jogging through a narrow tenebrous alley, I saw a young woman in her 20s’ being threatened by a Japanese boy with a pitiful immature handgun. I absolutely hate street gangs, they always brag about what they have, getting themselves into trouble. Compared to the big gang I was in, he would be nothing but a bug on a windshield. Sneaking up from behind him, I snatch his little handgun from his insecure hand, which I suspect he doesn’t know how to shoot, based on him waving it around like a maniac. I told him to flee before I kill him, and boy, that fool can run. The women, looking annoyed as I was, didn’t seem at all scared, almost like she’s used to being threatened by people with guns on a daily basis. She held out her hand “My name’s Massami”. Her beautiful, rich dark black hair, that outlined her crisp blue eyes, and her warm golden skin, had made her beauty stand out , as so did her voice sounding of more confidence than the wind that stroked me with heat warming my whole body, feeling almost on fire. Then, she smiled, the most beautiful smile that would make you die for. I felt stuck, not wanting to leave, this -
feeling of high, which regarded me as one of my weaknesses. I couldn’t help but smile back and reach out to shake her hand, feeling the new heavenly touch of her warmth, which invented new feelings inside me that I could never understand.
She asks me “My father is having a family dinner tonight, he’s expecting I bring someone, would you like to accompany me?” Her luring voice had almost decided the answer for itself, and somehow I came to say yes, almost speechless at her beauty and elegance instantly I felt the feelings of obsession. Then as she took out her cell phone in the most professional manner, muttered something into the phone. Soon, in less than five minute’s, there was a new beautifully lit limousine that stood before me, pleading me to come in, but my gut feeling otherwise. Taking minutes to drive to the beautiful mansion, as white as snow, had heavenly green landscape surrounding it, never mind the broken down houses around it. Her father greeted us at the door, he was somewhere in his 50’s, with his lean and muscular arms, he struck me as familiar. Sitting down next to the various amounts of food on the long beautiful table with dozens of guests, I noticed something on her fathers’ neck. Looking closer, I saw it was a red spider tattoo. The surprise of my realization was so sudden, it was painful. I knew the red spider was a symbol, a symbol of the gang I was in, one of the biggest, most violent gangs in Japan run by the big shots. I had a similar tattoo on my wrist, but to have it on your neck, could only mean you’re the head of the entire gang, and they called him Ossumu, his nickname meaning boss. I started to realize I was in Osumu’s house, in which I was invited by his daughter, which I had never known about until now. Shifting, in my chair, I saw a yellow envelope under the table that had big fine printing of my name. Making sure no one saw me pick it up; I peaked inside, seeing a picture of Massami, with red hinted words that read “TARGET”. I stuffed the picture back into the envelope before people would start to ask questions. Trying to make sense out of everything, I begun to realize another gang has found me. More specifically, another gang almost equally as powerful as the gang I was in, called Kuro Doku (meaning black venom in Japanese) has hired me to kill Ossumu’s daughter.

I fled out the door, but not until Massami caught my arm in a dead tight grip, I had not noticed her bulging arm muscles until now. She stares into my eyes trying to read my face, but I always have the best poker face. “Take me with you.” She demands, pleading with her eyes, so I couldn’t refuse. I nodded silently; she releases her grip, walking behind me unnoticed with quick quiet movements of a mouse.
“I have something to tell you” I softly spoke, breaking the silence, but before she can reply, three suspicious looking SUV’s pulled into the street corner in front of us, and about fifteen muscular men flew out the car in a hurried motion. Staring at them for only a second, remembering the encounter my gang had with theirs, the flash back of the shootings came to life in my mind, alarming me. In response, before Massami saw them, I threw her onto my back, where I escaped to the nearest ditch I could find, dropping Massami down carefully into the grass. She questions me “What was that about?” Her eyes looking extremely curios, as she searched for insight through the depths of my soul. Staring at the moonlight, I knew I couldn’t hide it from her any longer. “Your father is the head of one of the biggest gangs in Japan, but there is also another gang that’s almost as strong as his” I start to confess, “I used to be one of your fathers best known gang member, until leaving to start a new life last month, but this other gang known as Kuro Duko” (meaning black venom in Japanese) “found me and hired me to kill you” I force out of my mouth. Silence surrounds us for what seems like hours, but it has only been minutes, as we stare at the sky, where beautiful stars give off golden light.
“We have to leave, I know a place where they won’t find us” she whispers, not telling me where we’re going. I Bolted down the hills behind her, for continues hours, never walking this fast in my life, until she comes to a stop by an old stone bridge that only extended a couple blocks. Something about Massami and this bridge was familiar, but I couldn’t wrap my finger around it. Unexpectedly, she spun around to face me with a deviant expression of sly treachery. While staring at me, she opens her phone, and silently mumbles something, before flipping it shut. Then she smiles the most deranged obscene smile I have ever seen. She meanders delicately, taking painstaking steps toward me, until approaching me so close I could smell her warm unscented breath. She whispers nefariously, “This is where you end”; her words ripping into my brain with painful regret, and then, a sense of remembrance hit me. That’s when everything clicked in my brain, and secrets were revealed to me, knowing everything about the two opposing gangs that will probably kill me. Massami was who they called Osumu, the boss and leader of the entire Hadini gang, (the gang I was once apart of), which means her father was nothing but a prop, with a fake tattoo Massami had him wear. After the opposing gang Kuro Duko found out I had left Massami’s gang, they tried to hire me to kill the gang leader of Hadini, who is Massami. I realized how stupid I was to trust someone I had just met. That’s when I had to make a decision; I could run, before her gang members would come and kill me, but they could hunt me down very quickly. Or I could stay and fight, but how can I fight, when there are guns ten times larger than me? Three familiar SUV’s abruptly stopped on the other side of the bridge, coming into view were prodigious men holding guns with even more mass than them. I knew it was way to late to run, for they saw me, and started to load their guns, while Massami stood two feet away, her eyes analyzing me with amusement, her once beautiful innocence was now just a portray of lies, manipulating my feelings to feel sustain over her. I no longer feel devotion for her as I did minutes before. I began to feel, for the first time, deceived by a woman. I had to make my decision quickly, knowing if I waste my time, I would be dancing with bullets in merely seconds. Massami hisses a “goodbye”, and then I make my move. In a split second, I grab Massami forcefully by her shoulders, taking her by surprise. While holding her, I jump off the bridge almost two hundred feet off the ground, which their lye thousands of jagged rocks that wait for us. Gun shots missing only by inches, being too late, then we were soon thrown off the bridge, falling faster each second with rapid force. Then my watch beeps, telling me it has been 7 hours, before crashing into the rocks below us, meeting our death…





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jalsaied This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Nov. 27, 2010 at 1:12 pm
Excellent plot! Just try to make paragraphs since the format does not give the piece justice- I like this a lot!
 
Hopeless_Angel replied...
Oct. 15, 2012 at 6:15 pm
Okay, so I definitely feel you should have spaced this out a little so that the writing isn't all crammed together. Also, I noticed that you changed tenses. Something like that will confuse a reader, taking away from the power of your story. Other than that, it was very good. I enjoyed it :)
 
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