the act

I stood on one foot, smiling widely in while I juggle the balls, the crowd laughing and jumping in joy. It irritates me, but I have to do something for money at this point or I'll starve. I put on a big, bright smile, hiding the fact that I want to drive a hammer through all of their skulls.

But I can't do that, or I'll be in prison, rotting away. so I make do, doing this street performance for money.

I do a couple of tricks, I get a couple of donations, and then I move somewhere else. Then, at around 8, everyone goes home. So do I. I swing the door open, dropping my stuff on the ground and kicking off my shoes. I sit on my couch, and I lay my head back.

Today was going normally, no one disturbed me, until around 8:45. I heard a knock on my door, and I expected to see a door-to-door salesman. But what I was met with was a gun barrel pointed at my forehead.

I saw who it was. It was that teenager who got upset at me when I didn't do a trick he wanted. "Put your hands up, clown." Immediately, I obeyed, and I slowly raised my hands above my head. "What do you want?"

He replied coldly, with anger in his voice. "Do the trick, freak." What he wanted me to do was hold two of the juggling balls on my feet while I did a handstand. "But I can't do that!"

He pushed the gun barrel harder into my forehead. "Do it, or die." I took a step back, but he grabbed me by the shirt collar, pulling me close. He fumbled with the gun, almost dropping it. Before I understood what was happening, I had grabbed the gun.

I kicked him back and pointed the gun at him. He froze, his eyes widened. Then, he started begging me not to shoot him. I don't know why this infuriated me. Maybe it's because I'm done with whiny bitches like him, a spoiled brat who thinks he deserves everything in the world.

I thought about pulling it, ending him. But I didn't. I called the cops after putting my foot on the center of his chest. winding him.

The cops came quickly, one of the patrols must've been near. They ran in, knowing I was on top of the teenager, knowing I was in possession of the gun. Yet they still told me to get on the ground, before thinking for a minute. Then they said, "Oh wait, sorry, you called us, didn't you?" I nodded, feeling annoyed at their stupidity.

I stepped away from the teenager, letting them take him away. They took the gun, and I had to go in with them. I went in quietly, not making a fuss about it, and I got questioned. Thankfully, I had cameras at the front of my house, so it was easy to be the innocent one in this case.

But then something that pissed me off, was that the teenager was let out, and they tried to fucking sue me! But I went in quietly, calmly. I stepped up to the spot, and immediately, the teenager said I had attacked him with a gun, which was his.

He was in a sling, saying I broke his arm and hurt his neck. But I chuckled, shaking my head. "Your honor, if I may show you something?" The judge nodded, and I pulled out my phone. "I have evidence that I was attacked by him, and through sheer luck, I managed to survive.

I had sent it to my lawyer, who didn't know how to do his job, I guess, because I was the only one talking. "Come show me." The judge told me. I nodded and walked up. I placed my phone on his desk. He pressed a couple of buttons, which made me nervous for some reason. Then he said, "What video?"

I took my phone back, seeing that he had deleted it. I checked the trash, which had the video in it. I recovered the video. "Your honor, may I plug it into the TV and show you instead?" The judge suddenly had wide eyes and yelped out a response. "What?"

"Did you not hear me?" I asked, with a bit of annoyance in my tone. "Fine, do it." I smiled, walking over to the TV, which had some cords. After around 3 minutes, I figured it out. Plugged my phone in and pulled the video up.

"Oh, and also the screen has been recording, Your Honor. It recorded you deleting this video, and then me recovering it."

After a while, the entire jury was angry. Yelling, even, angry at the injustice being served. The whole thing was postponed, and eventually, I won.

Of course not, without the teenager crying and sobbing about how he can't even eat without thinking of me for some reason. The judge scoffed him off, telling him to suck it up, and its not my fault.

I got home an hour later, exhausted from all the paperwork, and talking, and everything. I flopped onto my couch before sighing deeply. I got a call from an unknown number.

I didn't answer it, but they left a message. "You have 3 days left." I chuckled at the nonsense, but I have to admit I was a bit paranoid due to the recent events.

3 days passed, then 4, then 5. Nothing ever happened. So I just went on, doing what I do, no matter how much I hate doing it. I need the money.

I do know that if I had lost my temper in the courtroom, I would've said things that I shouldn't, and I would've seemed dangerous. I would've been put in the wrong somehow. So I'm thankful for my job to a degree, because if it weren't for this. I wouldn't know how to act happy or calm when I'm not.