AN- I usually don't write things like this but it just kind of popped into my head. The N word is mentioned more then once, but please, don't think I'm racist. I'm not racist and don't mistake me for any of my characters. Please read and review, criticism is always nice too ( :
"C'mon, I won't hurt you." The swaying drunk reaches for the small young girl.
She looks about six or seven and too terrified to move.
"So you do want me. I thought so." He's laughing now, having cornered the child against a wall. I look around, the street is quiet and no one's about. The noises inside the bar confirm that it'll be a while before anyone else decides to come outside.
Neither of them know I'm here, just a few feet down from them. My motto has always been "Stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours." It's worked so far, well at least for my twenty-three years of living. But the guilt can be terrible at times. I'm always in situations like this, do I choose to be a spectator and do nothing, or do I stop it? I always choose to do nothing and ignore it. But my conscience always torments me.
I was riding in my guy friend's cop car, Jake, it was a couple of us, taking a joy ride 'round town. I was in the back, laughing at a joke Matt just finished telling.
"Man, Matt, you jus' come up with the weirdest things!" Jake was a bit tipsy it seemed, he usually doesn't say "weird" or any variation of it.
We just all laughed, and proceeded to drown half our beers.
"Oi, what do I see?" Jake said, slowing the car 'til it halted. I just snorted, Jake saying "Oi" was just too funny.
Jake and Matt got out of the car, walking to the sidewalk which seemed to be empty of people. I got out, wondering what crazy shit they were gonna do now.
"What you doing out here, nigger?" Jake asked, getting closer to a Black man. The African American was young, late teens or early twenties. He didn't look like he was stoned or under any influence.
Matt was laughing, also getting closer.
"Look, I don't have anythin' on me. I ain't no damn dealer, so get ya shit somewhere else." The man seemed to be telling the truth; he didn't look nervous. He looked a bit angry though.
"You getting your attitude with me, nigger?" Jake was now face-to-face with the man. My heart was pounding faster, what in the hell were Jake and Matt doing?
"Look, I ain't getting my damn attitude wit you. But you ova here disrespectin' me, I don't appreciate you calling me a nigger."
A fist came flying and landed on the Black man's face.
His nose was spewing blood, the nearby street light proved that. Matt then kneed the African American in the gut, sending all the air out of him.
They took turns hitting him.
The poor man was bleeding everywhere, if he wasn't careful he would choke on his own blood. He probably lost a couple teeth, and his body would be covered in bruises in no time.
His whimpers and cries for help motivated Jake and Matt more, they called him "You piece of shit" and "You motha fucking nigger!"
But I just stood there, it was wrong but my motto and way of life wouldn't let me move or speak out. So I stood silent.
That was about two years ago, but what could I do? Shit, so what the hell. Let it be, I think.
I close my eyes. The man hasn't touched the girl yet, but he will soon. He's too drunk, and for now he's playing mind games with her.
"Oh, c'mon, you don't want me to come afta ya, do you?" He's old, and a real big guy. He looks like he's done this before, the sneer and games he's playing testifies to that. He looks like a real pervert, too.
The little girl can't move, poor thing. But if she did move, he'll do whatever he was planning on doing now instead of later. She isn't moving, so I guess he's just having some fun. Sick bastard. The girl's crying now. She knows he's one of those "bad guys" her mother probably warned her about.
God, what the fuck?
I take a cigarette out of my jean pocket and light it. The smoke makes my mind hazy, and what about that time, I think.
We were all pissed drunk, throwing up the pizza we had a few hours ago, and passing out. There were only a dozen or so of us still awake. Still drinking all we could, 'til we passed out from it all.
"This party was freakin' awesome," I said, fixing my skirt a bit, while stumbling to the group of guys at the side of the room.
"Look at Kacie, the bitch just fell." Bryan slurred all his words, he wasn't as drunk as me though.
It was true. She passed out, her blonde hair spilling behind her.
"God, she's so hot." Andrew said, kneeling next to her, and thumbing through her clothes.
It was true. Kacie was hot and beautiful, but known for her bitchiness and sluttish ways. Her mom made her get on birth control after she caught her having a threesome with two guys.
By now, Andrew had her naked. I looked away, knowing what they were gonna do. I grabbed the nearest guy and started making out with him, ignoring the "Let me go firsts" and the moans from the other guys.
I pulled off the guy's clothes, thanking the Lord I was on birth control too, how would I distract myself?
"Whoa." He said, grinning. I was getting into it, I had to.
That night, I probably gave him the best sex he's ever had. But it wasn't enough, because I heard every little thing those guys were doing to Kacie.
College days, neva gonna forget them.
I crush my cigarette with the tip of my sneaker. I've never had a voice, I guess. And it's fucking killing me. The tears stream out of my eyes, wetting my cheeks. God, the fucking guilt is unbearable! I wipe my cheeks and look to my left.
He's touching her now, caressing her face and running his fingers through her brown hair. She's hysterical by now. But she can't scream, she can't say anything. The girl is shaking with the fear, I assume. Her tears are coming down faster and she's hyperventilating.
His hands are all over her.
Oh God, I'll be her voice.
"STOP!" I scream, every fiber in my body letting my raw guilt, hatred, anger and every other fucking emotion I felt be said in one word.
And Goddamn, it felt good.