Five o'clock traffic buzzed angrily across the generic Florida city. A kicked bee hive of activity that was looking for anything to attack. Rain drizzled down on the citizens in a light, but merciless way. The sun only taking milliseconds to peak in between depressed clouds. It was really only a matter of time until something unfortunate happened. A matter of time before someone went a little too fast on a turn. A matter of time till someone hydroplane-d just a little too far forward. A matter of time until the actions on the streets mirrored those in the sky. A matter of time till something utterly depressing happened.
A plastic bag crinkled in between his middle and forefinger. Three small white pills and choppy hair, dyed neon yellow, striking brightly against the dark bricks behind him. His eyebrow raised in question at the fidgeting teenage boy across from him. The second boy's name was unimportant, but Jasper's eyes stayed glued to the roll of bills the boy turned over in between his fingers.
Jasper was shorter than most boys his age. He had a masculine and broad frame, but something sickly haunted his body. He was more skinny than muscular. His whole body always seemed to be stuck in a tense position. The skin visible on his body was ghastly pale despite his natural olive skin. His eyes always seemed slightly bloodshot. His eyes tracked every minuscule movement the other boy made without a word or failure. A slightly twisted intelligence made the brown of his eyes even more intense.
The other boy handed his money over with shaky fingers. A wolfish grin curled up on Jasper's lips as he handed over his product, "Pleasure doin' business with you."
"Hey!"
A cop, no more than thirty years old, stood at the end of the alleyway. Jasper's heart thrummed in his throat. He flipped his hood over the neon yellow locks that had begun to show signs of his dark roots coming in. He shoved the other boy as hard as he could to the ground, and he was off.
His feet hit the pavement with all their might. He heard the cop yell at the other boy, but he could hear the sounds of pursuit. The buzzing of the walkie-talkie and another set of feet not too far behind him. The alleyway ended on a very busy sidewalk. Jasper began to push people out of his way. Knocking down those he could to slow the police officer's running speed. No one made any real attempt to stop him or help the cop out.
The walkie-talkie crackled loudly behind him. Jasper saw it just in time for it to be too late. The cop's patrol car parked not ten feet in front of him. Another cop standing beside it looking for someone. The walkie-talkie crackled again, and the new cop leaned down to listen to his. They were both looking for him.
Jasper didn't have time to weigh his options as he took a right turn into a four lane street. One of the busiest streets in town.
The cars honked angrily at him. One hit the breaks just in time for it to just barely touch his outstretched hand. He reached the middle island that separated the four lanes into two on each side. The attempts at planting grass in the middle of this island were thoroughly foiled by Jasper's sneakers stomping into the mud.
He looked over his shoulder. They were getting too close. He stepped out to start running across the traffic once more.
A car horn. A scream. Another car horn. The large van had locked up the breaks when Jasper had stepped into the road. The growing moisture on the road caused the van to hydroplane. With the amount of speed and weight the van had been packing, Jasper didn't stand a chance. It mowed over his body like he was the puny grass in the middle of the island. What happened next? He was never ID-ed in the morgue. After that, no one knows what happens after death.