Two Separate Journeys

June 4, 2017
By Benjaminb, Brentwood, New Hampshire
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Benjaminb, Brentwood, New Hampshire
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Author's note:

It's really good

It was a cold, frosty night. All of the windows were shut in the apartment buildings above. Their shadows fell onto the dimly lit streets, creating patterns that disorient those who pass by. The only lights that could be seen in the entire city were from the tall skyscrapers that towered over them. Ms. May briskly advanced down the streets. One hand was clutching her purse, the other clutching the hand of her 7 year old daughter. She would never let her see how scared she really was.
“Mom, are we almost there?”
“Yes honey, almost.” Ms. May replied trying to hide the fear in her voice. Walking around past midnight in the heart of Eastwood City is the equivalent of asking to be mugged, or worse. She looked down at the only thing that mattered to her, Mary May, her breath rapid from walking so fast. Mary had no idea where they were, no idea why they were there, no idea this could be her last living day on earth.
Ms. May was abruptly snapped out of her thought when she heard a deep, commanding voice behind her.
“Your purse, hand it over.”
The blood drained from her face. She pulled Mary close to her. A cold piece of metal was being pushed into her arm. Her body shut down. Her mind was screaming trapped inside of herfrozen body. Her vision was blurry, everything she heard was a mumble. All she could do was wait for it to be over.

He was glad he wore a hoodie that night. Even though it’s always cold in Eastwood, that night was a particularly bone chilling night. He didn’t think about who he was robbing, this was his third score today. It didn’t even cross his mind why a nicely dressed woman was walking down the streets past midnight with her daughter, it was simply business.
These two weren’t going to put up a fight, she’ll just hand him her purse and he’ll disappear into the night like he’s done a thousand times. His gun was more for show than anything, not once had things ever gone so awry that he’s had to fire it. But he always had that primal urge that nagged at him to pull the trigger, just once.
“Now!” He ordered.
The woman seemed to be frozen, her daughter was looking at them frantically not knowing what was going on. A tinge of sympathy came over him, the innocence of little kids always made it hard to do what he had to do. Then slowly all the bad things he’s done came rushing back, drowning what sympathy he felt.
“Come on, let’s go!” He ordered her while raising his voice. This was taking too long, she seemed to literally be frozen with fear. Her mouth looked like it was trying to say something but nothing was coming out. He pressed the gun harder into her arm.
“Mom, let’s go,” the little girl mumbled, tugging at her sleeve.
He had enough of this. He put the gun down, ripped the purse from her cold, shaky hands and ran down the almost deserted street. No one would stop him now. Anyone who saw himrunning was either too scared or too high to do anything. The police don’t waste their time tracking down stolen purses, or doing anything else to stop crime in this city.

He didn’t take two steps before he was looking up at the sky, lying flat down on the icy sidewalk.
What happened? Did I slip? He started to get up but the searing, throbbing pain in his forehead told him it was best to stay still. He heard footsteps getting closer, then he saw a young man standing over him. The man firmly pulled the purse from his immobile arms. Everything went dark.

His eyes fluttered open and he saw four strange faces peering down at him.
“So he threatened you with a gun and stole your purse?” The policeman questioned.
“Yes, I think that’s what happened,” she replied. Still recovering from the shock.
“Then you saw this happen and hit the man with your briefcase while he was trying to escape?” The policeman questioned gesturing to the young boy. “What’s your name again?”
“Richard Green.” The kid answered while affirming what the cop said happened. 
Now that he could see more clearly he realized just how young this kid was. No older than sixteen years old, tall, medium build. Reminded him a little of himself at that age.
“That’s quite a swing you had with your case. To knock a grown man on his behind like that, well, that's impressive.” The cop said to Richard as he pulled the thief from the ground and moved him to the police car.
The last thing he heard before being shut into the car was the boy walking away and saying, “Just trying to do what’s right.”

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