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Raw
I ripped the curtain from the window to have a good view of what was transpiring outside, someone must have fallen from the roof top and lay dead on the road side, a little crowd had gathered around and a mysterious shadow roam aimlessly up and down and the people began to lament in the street.
I could see everything clearly from where I was standing; a dead man lies still on his back with bullet holes in his throat and blood running from his mouth;
There was nothing that they could do, they examine him through and through, CPR didn’t work and the emergency vehicle could not help because he was already dead. The paramedics waited for the cops to come to examine the body and make a statement but his spirit had evaporated into the heavens .
I didn’t feel like going outside just the smell of death make me want to frown and to think that I was just a stone throw away from him, would they believe that I kill him? I don’t have a gun and I don’t know how to use one, my imagination starts to run wild and the flash back begins.
It was the summer of 2020 when market street passion was strong, money was running in the street and everyone was dabbling in the Marijuana heat, some people were selling it and others were consuming it.
I was sitting across the park working on my computer and all of sudden bullets start rain down in the street and people were running and screaming and other sit quietly as if nothing was happening and the evening began to sing.
Suddenly the place became quiet and a loud cry echo from across the street, the young man’s mother came along and knelt down at his feet and wept bitterly;
In a split second another commotion began and two men starts screaming at each other hurling bottle sand stones in the air and people around scream and left the park in fear for their lives but I continue to hold on.
The commotion starts to spread and the disturbance got louder so I packed away my laptop and left the park. I walk close to where the dead body lie and looked at it briefly and whisper a silent prayer to the skies.
His blood-soaked body could not withstand the heat and his mother continue to weep at his feet; her only son lie dead in the street with a pool of blood around him just one month after he wed.
The police finally came but his mother was going insane with screams and shout, and no one could console her. I walked along Market Street and left the chaos behind me.
I suddenly found myself back into the apartment looking through the window, the body was gone and yellow tape partitioned off the corner and not a single sole was on the street, except for the dogs searching the trash can and the beggar man holding a lantern in his hand and I watched the morning slowly fades away.
Copyright ©
Christine Phillips
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