Unless You're A Flat Earther...

Unless you're a flat earther...

The closest thing in front of you is the furthest thing behind you.

Was unloading the dishwasher. Sugar for our coffee is kept in a coffee cup. Absentmindedly tried to put the coffee cup up. Life isn't fair.

This is why you notice when that boy isn't there... You frown. You know you should leave it be, but you're curious.... You look around for him, to no avail. You only achieve getting frustrated and being late for school. You curse yourself quietly and run to school, but you're still alert, so when you pass an ally, you pick up a quiet, "please...." You stumble to a stop, heart pounding. Was that your imagination? You turn and walk slowly back, listening. You hear a woman gasp, "no, it wasn't personal! We're from different mafias... I had to..." You recognise his voice instantly, "yeah? Well this is nothing personal.... we're from different mafia.... I have to...." You freeze when you see a woman on her knees, in front of the boy. He's holding a gun to her head... His gaze flicks to you and the woman takes the opportunity to snatch the gun, pointing it back at him. He freezes, cursing quietly. You cover your mouth. The woman smirks, "have you even killed anyone before?" The boy doesn't respond, watching her. She turns the gun on you. "Wait! Dont kill-" with lightening speed she whips back around and the gun goes off. You scream as he jerks back, grabbing his shoulder, and falls to his knees. The woman laughs, "you have a crush?" The boy clutches his shoulder, panting. You whimper softly and he gasps, "no... but.... she's not a part of the mafia... She's a citizen... If you kill her, you'll be wanted for murder... not.... that it would matter.... but if you're in jail.... I can't kill you..." the woman crouches down, pressing the gun under his chin. He tilts his head back, Adam's apple bobbing. Her eyes run down his throat, to his chest. You can't help but follow her gaze. He has a very nice throat.... and chest... her eyes flick back up to his face, and your eyes flick to hers. She says, "nice jacket..." he stiffens slightly. She says, "i want it. Give it to me." Your heart starts hammering. You know what this is. A power play. You've seen it in school. Older kids would make the younger ones give them their juice, there toys, or make them go to dump their tray for them. Someone showing someone else that they're the dominant one.... the boys jaw clenches and he slowly slides the jacket off his shoulders, wincing as it brushes his bullet wound, then let's it slip down his arms. He pulls his hands out of it, careful to keep the arms from going inside out, and slowly hands it to her. Your eyes involuntarily go to his arms. He has nice arms too. You can't help but notice the veins sticking out, running down to his fingers. He's tense, so it makes the muscles and blood veins even more exaggerated. You drag your eyes back to the woman, feeling stupid for being distracted by a cute boy while you're in this situation. She takes it, examines it, and spits, "it's got a fucking hole in it...", looking at the bullet hole. She drops it on the ground and pulls out a lighter. The boy shifts forward a little, making a quiet noise. The woman jabs the gun deeper under his chin and he swallows, watching her light the lighter and drop it on the coat. Your heart hammers wildly. He stares as the coat burns....

“Lay on your stomach and hide your face.” The boy hesitated and the woman cocked the gun. The boy slowly laid on his stomach, crossed his arms, and buried his face in them. The girl knelt by him and patted him down, fingers trailing to a stop on his butt. He tenced. You held your breath. Her fingers slid in his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. You let out your breath slowly. She took out the money and tossed the wallet on his back, then got up, “Don't move. The only reason you're still alive is because you're that bastard’s son.” The boy stiffened, curling his hands into tight fists. The woman walked off. The boy didn't move until she was completely gone, then he sat up and grabbed his shoulder, glaring after her, breathing in shallow pants. You sank to the ground, your legs no longer having any strength left in them. The boy looked at you, “you need to get out of here…” He sounded very tired. You broke into a laugh. Your legs just gave way and he expects you to get up and leave? No sir. You'll be here a while… he frowns, watching you laugh. You stop abruptly, realising how inappropriate it is to be laughing in this situation. You say quietly, chills going down your spine, all traces of laughter suddenly gone, “Were you really gonna kill her?” The boy shrugs, “I am now.” You look down and whisper, “I don't want you to be a murderer…” Now it's his turn to laugh. “I'm the son of the leader of the biggest mafia in town! How am I not supposed to, eventually, earn that title?” You look at him, “so you haven't killed anyone yet?” He shrugs and looks away, “There hasn't been a need to…”

“You say that like it's shameful. You should be ashamed of killing, not not killing…”

You're still crouched down behind the trash can when the police show up. There's been gunshots going off down the ally. You gasp, "there's a boy in there! Hes-he's a teenager. He ran into the ally and I think he got shot..." tears spring to your eyes, but don't fall. You don't like him, but that doesn't mean you want him to die.... the police disappear down the ally, leaving you in the street with the rest of the people. You're glued to the spot. You cant leave until you know no one was killed at least...

When you've dropped your phone so many times that you aren't even afraid of it breaking anymore, you just look at it in disappointment because by this many times it can't be your fault, your phone has got to be trying to commit suicide...