Ride

“Hey”

  “Sooo, I’m gonna be a bit late”

  “Sorry babe”

  “Love u”

  My phone had been beeping for so damn long that my ears started ringing. As much as I adore Emma, she can be such an annoyance sometimes. Ok, maybe this time I turned a blind eye, since she was going on a two week long voyage with her family, it would have only be rude to ruin the moment. She’s a nice gal, but something had been fishy lately. In spite of her constant pda, her actions seemed kinda…empty.

  It was almost four in the morning. I’d been waiting in the car for what felt like an eternity. All I had been doing was to simply lean on the foggy, bitter cold window and wait for my dear, lazy and unorganized girlfriend. With a vibrating phone in my right hand and a cigarette in the other.

  I was starting to get more and more impatient when, out of the blue, two men caught my eye. They weren’t new there, just your daily battery heads doing their thing to “help with the economy”. They aren’t usually that aggressive, just pesky. I rarely pay any kind of attention to them, yet, these ones had something that came off as peculiar. They were nicely dressed, with fancy costumes, ya’know, they kind you go to your 8^th grade graduation party with. With a material that resembled satin, those guys sure made a ton of money. What surprised me was that they weren’t alone.

  Despite of how vacant the place was, with the only notable sounds being those of barking stray dogs and the countless messages on my phone, the men were actually looking for someone. From a poorly lit corner, another man appeared like some kind of odd shadow. With a strange grin on his face, their beloved coke friend came to the scene.

  He was wearing a plain, white shirt with denim jeans. He was around....30 or 32 years old, but, to be honest, with how unpleasant he seemed, no wander all he did in his free time was this.

  I didn’t have anything better to do so, with complete disinterest, I decided to peer through my tired eyes at what was going on around me.

  The first two guys offered the other some money. Around 100 or 200 dollars, if you ask me, that must’ve been the sum to kick off with. The one in jeans seemed a bit dissatisfied with the amount, but, with a condescending expression, showed them a tiny bag, with what appeared to be coke.

  That night had a dark indigo tint to it, with slight hues of blush. The clouds were filling up the sky, not even letting the stars dazzle through. Now that I think about it, the only thing that truly shown was the moon. Its light reflected in the minute puddles of the street and the even tinier drops of blood.

  Without me realizing, the two guys stabbed their supplier. The way that man clutched his stomach matched his taken aback face.

  The killer had that man’s blood running down his arm, down to his elbow. With the victim jerking on the floor like crazy, the partners tried to take in as much of their surroundings as they could. They had a dead gaze, deep fish-like eyes which showed little to no remorse. I felt ones peepers on me and briskly pulled my seat down. I was not about to have the same faith as the drug dealer.

   My spine jolted so hard that I thought that I was close to breaking my neck. And, with my unrested mind, I almost forgot about my still smoking ciggy which, without second thought, I brushed against my arm, in an embarrassing attempt to stub it out.

  I stood there, numb. The beating of my own heart seemed too loud on its own. The sound of muffled screams was enough to make me hold my breath. Unfortunately, with just the right amount of stupidity, I raised my head little, just to make sure I was able to watch the sight and film it with my phone. I was disinterested but not an accomplice.

  The other men hurled him into a plastic bag and blended in with the rest of the shadows.

  My mind was buzzing, the sweet chime of silence was long gone and all I could feel was the tingling in my fingertips. I didn’t feel sick, I was about to throw my dinner out. My eyes were watering and my stomach was knotting and tangling.

  “Hey hun, missed me long?”

  The true element of surprise in this messed up story was Emma busting in like nothing happened. With a jovial smile and content vibe, she closed the door behind her cupped my cheeks together. With her huge pine-like eyes met mine as she laid a tremendous kiss on me. For a split second, just a split moment, the world felt at peace, as if nothing had ever happened. But the moment was ruined by her constant questioning.

  “Pumpkin, are you ok? You look pale. What, did you see a ghost?”

  Her joking manner almost made me want to grab her by her arm and present her to what the hell happened just 15 minutes ago. I couldn’t. Not that didn’t want to, I didn’t know how. She still had to hang out with her family and I wasn’t trying to destroy her hopes.

  It was a long and quiet ride, with both of us ignoring each other as if nothing was left to even chat about.

  I dropped her off at her parents’ house and headed back to the police station. I was slightly petrified, I had the video but…uh, my bloody mind was going mad. Wh-what if the police had been working with the dealers all this time? What if I was going to end up just like that guy? I was turning dotty by the minute.

  At the station I glanced a bit around, gazing at the big sign that was poised in front of the station, and went back to the crime scene. If they’d find me there, at least I could show them what happened, or at least explain.

  I got out of my car and called the cops. It took them around 10 to 12 minutes before they got there. In the meantime, I made up my mind

and decided to inspect the surroundings. The place was a little deserted, the blood seemed dried up and it didn’t smell like anything pungent or rotten like I’d expected.

  When they arrived, they searched the place with the help of dogs but nothing. They claimed  that the dogs didn’t smell anything, no sign of blood nor weapon. In spite of their words, I knew what I witnessed the night before, the blood that was dripping on the pavement, seeping into the concrete.

  I was starting to lose hope, thinking that they must’ve worked with the other criminals, yet, right there and then, I snatched my phone out of my pocket and, with dumb confidence, wanted to show them the clip that I’ve made a night before. And, as I was trying to open my gallery, my phone seemed to have deleted every picture that I had taken that day, including those I took with Emma. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to see her smug, over the top outside.

  I was staring to fill up with ire; it was as if there was no other evidence besides my words, the words of a simple citizen.

  It’s been two months since these odd “things”. The police straight up called me a lunatic and brushed it off as me having a bad dream. Emma left me after she came back, well, I can’t blame her, for a long time I haven’t been the person she fell in love with. And, with each new day, I get more sick and tired of people telling me that I’m just paranoid.

  It’s drowning to feel so livid, with no one to listen to you, you feel like a child in an ocean of thoughtless morons.

  Yesterday, I decided to go back to that eerie place, where it all began. To be honest, after so long, I finally felt that awful and raw smell of blood, making its way from deep shady corners of that street.