I flinch, feeling the tip of my right ring finger tingle. I inhale deeply, making a little noise in my chest, feeling the crisp fall air in my lungs. The tickle on my ring finger comes back, and a second later, I feel a jolt of pain. "Aah! Goddamnit, fucking rats!" I holler, flinging the large, black furry thing off my hand.
He bit me pretty good, but I always have bandaids and a roll of gauze in a hidden box in the train car, In case I get beat up. Or if a stupid rat decides to call me dinner.
My feet make a light clanky sort of noise on the metal floor of the train car, as I walk to the other end, sticking my hand behind the broken vent cover. I retrieve my somewhat beat up but handy first aid box, and take out a bandaid, wrapping it around my finger.
I probe the thing, if only for the weird satisfaction people like, of knowing that their wound still hurts. Suddenly everything comes back to me in a flood, as I glance at the styrofoam plates and little Chinese food truck bag in the corner of the train car. Ugh. Jamison is absolutely without a doubt, pissed off at me. I didn't give him the money yesterday, I can handle that, and I know I did it on purpose, because well, I needed food.
But it kinda freaks me out that it's basically payday, and I've only earned around 500 dollars this week. There's around thirty people in the gang, and most usually earn anywhere from 20-50 dollars per two weeks. So, I clearly have a problem. I could only get Jamison half the money he asked me for last time anyway, so I honestly don't know what I'm going to do.
I have to go back, though, because they'll search for me if I don't. And worse, if they know I purposely didn't show up, they'll be even more mad. Even though they already are. I'm just gonna have to stick it out. And hope they don't kill me.
I grab my little backpack, sitting in my corner of blankets, and take a deep breath as I step out of my train car. It's freezing out, and my breath makes little puffs of air as I walk towards the subway.
I need to get a new jacket for this winter. The last one was taken by the gang, who obviously never gave it back.
Anyway, I cross through the chain link hole as usual, and enter the subway platform. It's particularly crowded today, and as I'm looking behind me, I take no notice of the girl that is about to slam right into me. "Unf-" she starts, and I flip my head around, surprised. She looks at me with reddened cheeks and startled eyes, and curls a piece of her hair in her manicured finger. She wears an overcoat from Ralph Lauren, that you can tell is at least two hundred dollars. She's got the latest I-phone, with a Vera Bradley purse, and two pearl earrings. Her boots are black and sparkly with gems. I can feel my cheeks reddening too, and I look at the floor, like I usually do, when I bump into someone. "...sorry, I was just getting to my train,"
I say awkwardly, expecting her to ridicule me, or walk angrily off. But after ten seconds of nothing, I look cautiously up, and her eyes stare into mine. "Really, it's fine. I was looking at my phone, it was my fault." She says, and her cheeks redden just a bit more.
Without thinking at all, my mouth starts to blabber. "Hey, what's your name?" I almost cover my mouth out of shock that I actually asked, but instead discreetly kick myself in the heel.
She smiles slightly, twirling her hair again. "Oh, it's uhh... Jessie. But everyone just calls me Jess. ....what's yours?" I shiver a little. "Uh, mines Joel. People call me Joey though. But-but you can call me Joel, if you want..." what the hell am I thinking, telling this girl my name? Interacting with her? I have to go.
"Er-sorry, I... I have to be somewhere, soon. It's kind of important," her face dims a bit, and she twirls her hair again. "... ok. Hey, can I have your phone number?" A phone number. She wants my phone number. Are you kidding me? I don't have a phone. Not even a tv. Nothing like that. Just... my train car. Before I think, I stutter.
"Um, I don't have a phone, but we could meet up in Times Square if you want, at about 4 in the afternoon?" Damnit. Damnit, damnit, damnit. Did I just ask her out?! Did I seriously just-auughhh, Jesus. This'll be fun. "Oh, ok. That sounds nice. Sure. See you at 4." She says, and then turns around and walks off. Before I realize it, she shouts back "I like your blue hair!"
I don't see her anymore. And yes, I have blue curly hair and glasses, as if that matters. I take a big inhale, letting it out, anxiety filling into the cracks in my brain. I hop into a train car. The doors shut, and after around twelve minutes, the trains at my stop. Whoo. Deep breath Joel.
I get off, heading back up to the busy New York sidewalks, taking the usual rout to the gangs little alleyway, filled with cardboard boxes and plenty of fire bins. I look in, and see a few people in the alleyway, and then a face that with no doubt is jamison's, looks up at me.
I quickly shrug behind the wall, readying myself. I inhale, and swallow hard. I step into the light of the alleyway, and Jamison is standing now, In the middle, motioning a few other members over to him. He stares me down. I look away.
Damnit.
Every time.
I hear his boots on the concrete, getting closer and closer to me. My heart is hammering against my ribs, and my lungs take a shuddering inhale.
I brace myself.
"Hey, kiddo. What happened, last night? You couldn't get more money? Or ya spent it all? Or were ya just scared?" The gang closes in. Two of them grab my arms, and to my protest, they drag me to an office chair behind another wall of the alleyway. They comically wrap ropes around my wrists.
I am tied to the chair.
Not getting up.
This is new.
And I am scared.
He puts his foot onto my chest, and pushes down. The chair tilts back. "Clearly, you haven't got the money, else I'd have it right now. So you know what happens, don'tcha?" I swallow hard, my throat getting tight. He, creepily, puts his hand on my neck, feeling for my pulse. "Nervous, are we? Hm?" He coos to me eerily, as I ridicule myself for not being able to control my heartbeat. Which, honestly is just stupid. "Joel, answer me. Now." He says, and I close my eyes so, so tight, watching him pull out his six inch retractable blade. He never takes that thing out.
Never.
Jesus, what's he going to do to me? He can't kill me. That would be murder, and that girl's expecting me today. She would know something bad happened. I don't know why, but I know she would. And well...I'd be...dead.
I start hyperventilating, feeling my chest Bob up and down. I open my eyes, and unsuccessfully try to suppress my holler of terror as the knife enters my skin. Jesus Jesus Jesus, stop god no stop. He cuts along my neck, getting way to close to major blood vessels and obviously, my throat.
He seems to sense my nervousness and cuts right along into my throat. He knows he's not cutting deeply enough,-
But damn. If he wanted to, right now, he could just... I can't think about it. No no no no no no. It's becoming to much. Just when he gets to the deepest part, and I close my eyes, expecting a stab of pain and darkness- a girls yell fills my ears. Something seems familiar about her voice.
Jess!
No, she shouldn't be here. I don't even think she sees me. She just knows somethings wrong. Really wrong.
Jamison turns towards the sound, and his knife never leaves my throat. It almost seems to press down more, and I practically choke on the spit I'm refraining from swallowing. I can't hear what she's saying. But I can tell one question out of the others. "Stop! Who is that?!" She still can't see me, but knows someone's being held down.
She sees my legs. My idiot self comes back again, and luckily enough, it's quiet enough to hear my little Wimper of "help, Jess. Please." You can hear her start, and she goes, "Joel? Is that you?" I have to swallow, or I'm gonna choke. I wince, feeling the knife blade press into my throat just a little more. "Y-yes." "God." I hear her say. "get out of the fucking way, you criminals."
Wow. That was unexpected.
"I have a taser and a gun, and I can dial 911 within a matter of seconds. Trust me, you don't want to do what you were planning on with him."
But Jamison smiles.
"What, this?" The blade shifts, and by some miracle, (or really, is it worse? At least I didn't die instantly) he cuts my main artery instead of my throat. Blood gushes out, and I can hear Jess's taser going off. I see Jamison and another member fall, and she holds the gun up, cocking it. She dials 911, and screams "stay back! Get away from him!" To the gang, and slowly, they back away. She talks with someone on the phone, and after about ten seconds she hangs up.
She keeps the gun pointed at everyone, moving in to me. At this point, (and when I'm terrified, I barely ever scream, only when people grab me from behind.) big juicy fat tears are tumbling down my face and into my mouth. My heart's in my throat, and I swear, I'm having some sort of heart attack. I can barely breathe, thanks to my theory that I have very minor asthma (I've always had symptoms,) and obviously, my neck throbs and stings.
My whole side is wet with my own crimson blood by the time Jess has untied me. She brings me out of the alleyway, keeping the gun pointed at everyone till we're in another alley.
At this point, I'm in shock and extremely light headed. I swallow hard, hearing faint sirens. "What the fuck did that guy want with you?!" Jess said as she inspected my wounds and got a scarf out of her purse. "He.... I-I'm homeless, I belong to them... I... I can't explain now..."
Jess's face grew to a shocked expression. "Your homeless?!" I nod slowly. She sighs. "Ok. Questions later. Do you have a high pain tolerance?" I nod. "Ok. This might hurt a bit. Sorry,"
she pushes the scarf in to my gaping neck, causing my eyes to fly open wide, I suppress a yell that almost escapes my mouth. It burns like hell, and it only barely helps the flow of blood from leaving my wound. An ambulance pulls up, along with two police cars, their sirens wailing. My vision starts to go blurry, I lose feeling in my toes and fingertips. I feel like I could pass out at any moment. Honestly, I dont know why that hasn't happened already. I'm lifted into the ambulance, secured, and followed by Jess.
The ambulance starts moving, and my vision blurs as the rocking of the ambulance seems almost to lull me to sleep. Jess starts to freak out when an EMT attaches me to a machine. Something about my breathing. My heart. I feel something inside me. A quick stab of pain, I think. I let myself drift slowly, painfully into the darkness. I'm terrified of it. But i leave anyway.