Chapter 4: Hurt
Sunday morning, I woke up for the first time with a grin as wide as a banana on my face (literally!). I looked at the clock, and it read 8:10, just in time for work at the theatre. I hurriedly pulled on a turtleneck, grabbed my new bike and headed over to Starbucks, to grab some coffee and a croissant. I then headed over to the theatre to begin my shift.
The day went on as a usual Sunday, with the lines and lines of people all waiting for their last-minute tickets. The job was sort of robotic for me; tell them to choose their seats, choose their drink and popcorn, then collect their cash and give 'em their tickets. Today though, everything went on as usual, until about 6 PM, when the bang of a handgun rattled my ears. A man in a ski mask entered in and walked up to me, the head cashier. He pointed the cold silver barrel at my trembling forehead, and said, "Hand over everything you got, kid,"
"Or else," he added.
Blood pounded in my ears as I struggled to punch in the combination, to take out the cash. A second later, he slammed the butt of the handgun onto my head, and I fell down, screaming silently in pain. He stuffed everything all the cash into his sack and then slammed the safe door. He looked over to me, an angry gleam in his eye, and kicked me in the face, then he left the place, head held high.
The day went on as a usual Sunday, with the lines and lines of people all waiting for their last-minute tickets. The job was sort of robotic for me; tell them to choose their seats, choose their drink and popcorn, then collect their cash and give 'em their tickets. Today though, everything went on as usual, until about 6 PM, when the bang of a handgun rattled my ears. A man in a ski mask entered in and walked up to me, the head cashier. He pointed the cold silver barrel at my trembling forehead, and said, "Hand over everything you got, kid,"
"Or else," he added.
Blood pounded in my ears as I struggled to punch in the combination, to take out the cash. A second later, he slammed the butt of the handgun onto my head, and I fell down, screaming silently in pain. He stuffed everything all the cash into his sack and then slammed the safe door. He looked over to me, an angry gleam in his eye, and kicked me in the face, then he left the place, head held high.
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I woke up to see the blurred and bright lights of the hospital staring down at me. I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision and then saw the outlines of a couple of people: Miguel, JT and the rest of 'em, along with Mom's worried face glancing at me, her hijab dishevelled. I avoided her gaze and looked down where I saw my own face: raw flesh poked out from the side where he kicked me and a jagged scar along my hairline. A second later, I fainted and hit the hard, unforgiving pillow of the hospital, horrific thoughts running through my mind.
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