Crazy Meets Crazy

6 Apr

By Cody Ray   
Denver Online High School    

“And here’s your 85$ in tips. Looks like it was a good night for you!”

“Yeah, it was all right. I’m just ready to get home now.”

“All right. Well, be careful out there. There’s been a lot of crime going on at night. Walk safe!”

I stuff my tips into my backpack and throw it over my right shoulder. I make my way out the back door of the restaurant. I step down the metal-grated stairs onto the cold streets of the alleyway. Steam makes its way out of the manholes on a warm night like this. I take a left and bend around the corner onto the evil streets of Detroit. My footsteps melodically pace a few blocks until I realize a man all in black following me. I decide it’s best not to react and I keep walking. My heart beats faster and faster as I realize the man is getting closer and closer.

Blocks and blocks go by and my pace starts to quicken. The man continues to follow me. I finally arrive about 30 blocks away from my work and turn right into the front gate to my house. The man stops at the end of the block and watches me as I unlock my front door and step inside. I walk upstairs to my bedroom and peek out the window to see the man walk to the bushes by the gate in front of my house and crouch down. He scans my house but can’t see me.

I continue to watch the man for an hour or so until he starts to turn around and walk back. I grab some black jeans and a black hoodie from my closet and put it on, and then I quickly get my money out of my backpack and throw it onto my desk. I throw my backpack onto my right shoulder and run downstairs. In the kitchen, I grab a knife and wrap it in an old t-shirt lying on a chair and place it in my backpack.

I almost make it to the front door when I realize I forgot to take my medicine. I look at the orange bottle sitting on the counter. “I haven’t taken any since this morning. I should probably take it.” I start to walk to the counter to grab it, but I realize that the man is probably blocks away, so I rush out of the front door and lock it behind me.

I walk through my front gate and take a left onto the block. The wind whispers my name. “I should’ve taken the medicine. It’s too late now.”

I start to run quietly down the street until I finally see the man slowly striding down a street about a block and a half ahead of me. I stop running and start to follow the man while keeping a half block’s distance. My hands grab my hood and pull it up over my head.

Blocks and blocks pass until I see the man get into an all black Cadillac Escalade. The car roars to life and the lights turn on. They shine right on me. I continue to walk while pulling out my phone. I pretend to be texting while I walk past the car, making sure my face is out of sight. I take the first left into an alleyway and wait for a moment. I hear the car pull out from the curb. Running to the end of the alleyway, I see that the car is starting to travel west. With my phone in my hand, I go to the “notes” app and jot down the license plate number: F46YG0.

With a quick scan of the dark alleyway, I see a small black Kia. I walk over to the car and make my way to the driver’s door. With a scan of the alleyway, I see nobody but a homeless man passed out by a green dumpster. I take my elbow and jam it into the driver’s window. It shatters and the alarm starts to blare. The homeless man stirs and looks up but quickly falls back into his drunken sleep. I unlock the door and hop into the car. Ducking my head, I open up the steering wheel column. I connect the ignition wire to the battery wire. The lights come on and the alarm stops. I then strip the starter wire carefully and touch it against the battery wire. The car’s engine comes to life and I take off.

Turning right out of the alleyway, I then take another left and start to head westbound onto the interstate. After weaving in and out of traffic, I spot the familiar license plate. F46YG0. The black Cadillac Escalade is traveling slowly in the right lane, so I switch into the right lane about four cars back. Voices ramble in my head. I try to ignore them but I can’t help but listen to the overpowering mind. I wish I took my medicine.

Suddenly the brake lights in front of me flash and my foot slams on the brake. There’s a stoplight ahead. I’ve followed the black Cadillac off the freeway, but now it’s on the other side of the light.

“Don’t let him get away!” the voices in my head yell. “Run the light!”

I quickly pull right onto the sidewalk and speed up towards the red light until I hit the intersection going 75. A car darts across the intersection and I jerk the wheel to the left and to the right barely dodging the car. “That was close,” I whisper.

I see the Cadillac take a right into a local strip club. I pull in and park on the other side of the Caddy. In my rearview, I see the man step out of the car and walk towards a Toyota truck parked right next to him. The window of the truck creeps down and a hand reaches out.

The man reaches into his pocket and secretly pulls out a wad of money and a piece of crumpled up paper. “Could be important information,” a voice says. Tossing the money and paper into the Toyota, the man starts to walk away towards the entrance of the club. The Toyota window starts to roll up and, just before it’s all the way rolled up, I hear gunshots. They blast through the window of the Toyota.

I look over to see the man close to the entrance, gun in hand. He runs over to his Cadillac and hops in. He speeds out of the parking lot, and I follow him. I hear sirens.

The Cadillac dips into the closest alleyway and pulls behind a dumpster. He turns his car off, opens the door, gets out, locks his car, and starts to walk deeper into the alleyway. I pull over on the street. Quickly, I scan through the glove-box of the Kia and find a flashlight. I throw the flashlight into my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. I hop out of the car and start to walk across the street towards the alleyway. The man is almost at the end of the alleyway now. With a glance around the alleyway, I see a fire escape ladder that leads to the top of a three-story building right above the man. With a big leap, I jump up and grab the ladder and start to ascend.

When I reach the top of the building, I slowly creep into a position right above the man. I peek my head over the edge and see the man lean up against the dumpster and pull out a red handkerchief from his pocket.

“Might be in a gang,” I whisper to myself.

The voices come back and assure me that I’m invincible. “Doesn’t matter if he’s in a gang.”

I scope the man’s surrounding and notice that the dumpster is filled with trash bags up to the top. “Looks like the garbage man never came,” a voice says. The man starts to walk away from the dumpster. “This is my chance,” I mutter. I jump off of the three-story building and sink into the trash bags.

The man jerks around, pulls out his gun, and slowly and cautiously makes his way towards the dumpster. He gets closer and closer until he finally reaches the dumpster. He peeks over the lip. Nothing. Nothing but trash. He turns around and starts to walk away.

Buried beneath the trash, I quietly move the trash bags to the sides so I can get out. Something grabs my leg. “It’s probably nothing. I should’ve taken my medicine.” My head peeks out of the dumpster and my eyes set upon the man, who is pacing back and forth.

Gun in hand, twirling in his fingers, the man screams and mumbles.

“Sounds like gibberish,” I whisper.

The man points the gun at the bottom of his chin and pauses. He takes a deep breath and then pulls the gun back from his throat and starts twirling it in his hands again. Pacing faster and faster, the man’s mumbling speeds up.

I sink back into the dumpster and take my backpack off. Searching through my backpack, I find the t-shirt. I grab it and unwrap it to find the kitchen knife.

Pinching the blade between my thumb and my pointer fingerm I hurl it towards the man. The knife flies through the air and pierces the man in the back. He falls to the ground, dropping his gun. I hop out of the dumpster and run towards him. Picking up the gun, I aim it at his head and start to question him about why he followed me.

A smirk forms on his face. He laughs and laughs. “I never followed you!” He yells and laughs at the same time.

I hear sirens.

The man laughs as I touch the barrel of the pistol to his mouth like a kiss. He mumbles and mumbles. His mumbles sound like the voices in my head.

“Do you not realize?” the man stutters.

“What is there to realize?!” I yell, begging for an answer.

The man continues to laugh as a police car pulls into the alleyway, shining lights into my face. I glance up to see the police officer step out of the car. Another quick glance down and I see the man is gone. The pistol tickles my mouth and I finally realize.

“He was never real,” I whisper to myself. I should’ve taken my medicine when I got home after work.

The cop yells, “Get on your hands and knees!”

I stumble to my knees and yell.

The cop walks over with his gun pointed at me. “You’re being arrested for first degree murder.”

My mind races with confusion. I never killed anyone. “What do you mean?” I ask the officer.

“The man at the strip club.”

My mouth goes numb and my heart starts to race. The officer kicks the gun out of my hands and it flies about 30 feet away from me. Confusion races through my mind.

“Then what about the two cars?” I ask.

“You were driving a Cadillac. What do you mean about two cars?” the policeman answers.

I glance over to where I parked the Kia and see that it’s not there. The policeman puts my arms behind my back and cuffs them. He walks me to his police car and throws me into the back. With a slam of his door, we start to drive.









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