A Project

First part of a project I'm working on. That's all folks.

One

"Don't even breathe." he said.

In the darkness of the alley with only moonlight overhead, David Byrne stood motionless with a gun pointed at his chest. This was a brand new situation for him. At 25, David had gone this long without even being in a fist fight, let alone being held up at gun point. His mind was racing, unsure of what to say or what to do, he stood there, not even breathing.

"Move slow and give me your money and your phone. I will shoot you dead if you do something stupid, ya hear?"

David heard, but still didn't move. Too afraid, too afraid, too afraid. The world moved in slow motion and the sounds were waves crashing against the beach. The alley walls were brown and red smudges and the ground beneath him was a muddy mess below his legs of jelly. The only thing that was clear was the silver gun pointed at his scrawny chest. "If I die here" he thought "no one will know. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even f*****g be here!"

"Hey a*****e, your money or your life!"

David saw only a silver gun and a large shadow that held it. Everything was distorted, even it's voice. There were no smells in the alley, just stale air, no breeze to move it to and fro. The air just sat heavy in that space.

"Last chance b***h." the shadow growled.

Suddenly, the reality of the situation came screeching into David's brain. It was all very real now and David's brain focused on one simple truth, he didn't want to die here. Without thinking David reached for his wallet, not slowly, but as fast as possible. Then suddenly, his chest ripped backwards, his legs crumpled with the weight of his body, and he was staring at the moon.

"F**k! I told you slow! Mother f****r!"

The man stood above him now. A shaved head, white guy, couldn't be more than 30, leather vest, maybe a biker?David didn't know and didn't care. He focused on one thing at that moment. He needed to keep breathing.