Two Hidden Killers and a Messy Bun Thug

I was gasping for air. Trying to breath in, but no air would enter my lungs. I was suffering so badly that I had to lie down and sip water for twenty five minutes straight, but I think it’s fair for what I had seen. I am getting chills as I write this in my journal.

You see, I’m a totally ordinary person. I live a very normal life and I had no trouble with anyone. In fact, I’m a peacemaker with ideally anyone whom I meet. Life was chill for me and I was chill with life... but it was the exact opposite for my next door neighbour. She never had good relations with anyone, even her family relatives for all I know. She fought with thugs, made tons of drug money, shot three innocent people and was a satanist. Every week, I saw a huge van parked in front of a house. I always had in mind that it was just hers considering the amount of cash she made. I was petrified of her, I never made eye contact or any form of neighbourly stuff. I mean, I did not want to get killed, hurt or get into the thug-illuminati-drug life. I‘m a pretty decent person, so my name had to stay clear.

Until one Saturday late night, I had not seen her the entire day. I thought that she spent her entire day in her house, considering that she rarely goes out normally. At exactly half past twelve, I saw two huge men with black suits, looking all hitman vibes, with sunglasses coming towards her house. They were armed with guns and I-I-I was so scared. I mean I feel like crying now because that’s how much I was terrified of the things that were going to happen. I loved watching crime shows like CSI, but that was too surreal. It was way frightening for me watch from my window. I couldn’t believe that any of that was typical. Luckily, my curtains were dark for anyone to see through, so they didn’t notice anything.

They constantly kept on looking around hesitantly for about three minutes and I kept on ducking, but I made sure to peek a little by the corner if my window. I wore dark clothes and turned off all my Tv appliances, lights and made it look like as if I was not home. As I kept on observing them, they constantly looked at my porch. They made fun of the tiny cute gnomes on my tiny garden up front and I felt mad. If I were to confront, that’d be my older step-brother, since he’s part of the military, but I wasn’t him. I was a weak woman in front of those big men. They’d crush me alive. Oof.

They knocked aggressively on the door for a few seconds. No answer.

”What the heck is Merlo doing in there? She said she’d confront us face to face. Is that crazy woman ditching us, Mark?” The beard guy spoke up.

”I think so, Jaws. We have to break down this door, otherwise we’d get fired and the Boss‘d be mad.” The jet black hair dude replied.

Beard nodded his head in agreement and they both stood back. My heart was racing so fast and I froze, my body was in much shock to move.

They ran towards the door with their arms to the front and repeated the movements for a couple of times. It eventually broke down because the doors in HoneyWood Valley is absolutely unstable, unaesthetic and horrible in structure. I got mine replaced with a quality and cute door style with a good friend of mine in the neighbourhood’s work office or something. There were no sounds. No shouting. Zero screaming. The two men walked in, but I couldn’t see anything after that. An idea popped into my head and I rushed into my bedroom. My bedroom had a closer view to the woman’s porch and I could see everything clearly. I stopped gulping and gaped at the porch. I heard the woman resisting several times, begging for the men to free her, that she was very sorry for doing everything she had done to them and their boss in the past; she was practically begging. They had no empathy left and they dragged her onto the porch. They spoke vulgar language towards her, shouting at her for dissing them and getting ahead of ourselves. It’s like the famous saying; “Do not count your chickens until they’re hatched”, I think that’s at least how it is said.

The beard man shot her on the face and blood gushed out of her head, flowing in every direction. They covered her entire body in a very thick looking rope and taped her mouth.

Jet black said, “Hehe. We’ve done the job again, tiger. Let’s take this to the boss and get our share of the lion’s meat. What’d you say?”

Beard said, “Right back at ya, M. This woman was so stupid. Doesn’t she know who our boss is? She should have rethought about getting into the illegal drug trade and messing our boss’s flow.”

Jet black replied with, “Hm”, sarcastically sympathising the lady while making clicking sounds with his teeth.

They dragged her into their big ol” van, with blood spreading all over the floor. Her eyes were rolled onto the side and her hair had gone loose. All of a sudden my phone went ringing.

”Shoot, shoot, shoot, oh no, oh no!” I kept on repeating as I turned it off. It had to be my annoying college friend, Cheyenne.

They glanced at my window and I rolled off to the side of my couch. It was a miracle that they didn’t come over to my gate to check if anyone’s there. I would have been officially dead as well. They got into their van and mercilessly threw the woman into their dock. They didn’t have even one bit of heartfelt emotion. They were emotionless thugs. Cold hearted and bad. Very bad. Horrible.

From that day on, I never saw them again. Neither did I ever step into her house. I didn’t want to experience the flashbacks again. Never again. I moved onto another very safe neighbourhood, and I’m glad to say everything is alright for now. I have one message for all of you; please stay safe everyone. Life is not a game. It can end anytime if one is not careful. My heart beats faster than ever whenever I narrate this story to someone who’d I know.