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A Cab Ride To Remember -Conclusion
9:04am
Bowery, Lower Manhattan, New York City
I saw the plate of my un-eaten breakfast shatter to the ground by the vibration by hinges of Ja's door being pushed in. I remember my heart, I swear to this day, seemed to have literally stopped beating for 2 seconds. My head felt like a feather. That is how light it felt. Just floating. The 2 men must of been from hispanic or maybe cuban decent. The first words I heard was "no mover puto" over and over again. At least it sounded like that. Or maybe it was "no movea outep". Whether I understood the meaning or not didnt matter at this point. I leaned up and the one man, dressed all in black, very muscular. The one man was wearing a ski mask. Thd other man was not. The one that had the ski mask, he came over to me. I leaned up and I quickly turned to Ja. He was not as scared as I was it seemed. He seemed calm and collected.
"No mover puto" I sat back down on the couch. The other man, in same attire, was focused on Ja. The one not wearing a ski mask. I remember him looking 29 maybe to 35y/o. He was light skin. He looked black but when he began saying the same words "no mover puto", I knew he was'nt. Or a mix of some sort.
"My god this all just started as a simple cab ride."
I kept thinking that. Ja looked at me with a look of "dont move, relax and do what they say" type look. More words were shouted to Ja. All still sounding like some spanish decent. The man in front of me had a glock pointing at me. It was black. I dont know what kind it was. I never knew that much about guns. I was never a supporter of them. I am a liberal democrat who is against instruments of death." No mover puto" he kept yelling at me.
"He is telling you not to move." Ja says with a voice of caution.
That was when I heard the shot. The bullet seemed to emerge from the gun in super, super slow motion. I followed the bullet, in a haze of fear and love, into Ja's chest. Blood exploded from the same chest that I exploded my spunk onto. Some of the blood got on me. He looked at me and that lustful, sexy light in his eye went out.
He fell over to the side of the couch.
"No, no, no" I shouted to myself. The two men were then on the opposite side of the room going through drawers and such. This obviously was a robbery gone wrong. Deadly wrong. Ja's body slumped over onto my body. The sound of dead bones hitting live bones made the 2 men turn around briefly. I swore he was gonna shoot me. Some more spanish words were exchanged between the two and then they darted out of the apartment. My heart was beating at a rapid pace. I looked down to the man that gave me a cab ride and a night that I will always remember. But that memory along with him is now dead.
Dead.
Dead to the world.
Dead to me.
The End
THIS IS THE CONCLUDING CHAPTER OF "A CAB RIDE TO REMEMBER"
I WILL CONTINUE MY COLLECTION IN THE FOLLOWING MONTHS.
TO CONSTANT READER, IF I OFFENDED OR DISGUSTED YOU- TOO BAD. THAT IS WHY I SLAPPED THESE STORIES WITH A DISCLAIMER
Bowery, Lower Manhattan, New York City
I saw the plate of my un-eaten breakfast shatter to the ground by the vibration by hinges of Ja's door being pushed in. I remember my heart, I swear to this day, seemed to have literally stopped beating for 2 seconds. My head felt like a feather. That is how light it felt. Just floating. The 2 men must of been from hispanic or maybe cuban decent. The first words I heard was "no mover puto" over and over again. At least it sounded like that. Or maybe it was "no movea outep". Whether I understood the meaning or not didnt matter at this point. I leaned up and the one man, dressed all in black, very muscular. The one man was wearing a ski mask. Thd other man was not. The one that had the ski mask, he came over to me. I leaned up and I quickly turned to Ja. He was not as scared as I was it seemed. He seemed calm and collected.
"No mover puto" I sat back down on the couch. The other man, in same attire, was focused on Ja. The one not wearing a ski mask. I remember him looking 29 maybe to 35y/o. He was light skin. He looked black but when he began saying the same words "no mover puto", I knew he was'nt. Or a mix of some sort.
"My god this all just started as a simple cab ride."
I kept thinking that. Ja looked at me with a look of "dont move, relax and do what they say" type look. More words were shouted to Ja. All still sounding like some spanish decent. The man in front of me had a glock pointing at me. It was black. I dont know what kind it was. I never knew that much about guns. I was never a supporter of them. I am a liberal democrat who is against instruments of death." No mover puto" he kept yelling at me.
"He is telling you not to move." Ja says with a voice of caution.
That was when I heard the shot. The bullet seemed to emerge from the gun in super, super slow motion. I followed the bullet, in a haze of fear and love, into Ja's chest. Blood exploded from the same chest that I exploded my spunk onto. Some of the blood got on me. He looked at me and that lustful, sexy light in his eye went out.
He fell over to the side of the couch.
"No, no, no" I shouted to myself. The two men were then on the opposite side of the room going through drawers and such. This obviously was a robbery gone wrong. Deadly wrong. Ja's body slumped over onto my body. The sound of dead bones hitting live bones made the 2 men turn around briefly. I swore he was gonna shoot me. Some more spanish words were exchanged between the two and then they darted out of the apartment. My heart was beating at a rapid pace. I looked down to the man that gave me a cab ride and a night that I will always remember. But that memory along with him is now dead.
Dead.
Dead to the world.
Dead to me.
The End
THIS IS THE CONCLUDING CHAPTER OF "A CAB RIDE TO REMEMBER"
I WILL CONTINUE MY COLLECTION IN THE FOLLOWING MONTHS.
TO CONSTANT READER, IF I OFFENDED OR DISGUSTED YOU- TOO BAD. THAT IS WHY I SLAPPED THESE STORIES WITH A DISCLAIMER
