Crimson
1
James pulled his hood over his head and sighed, walking faster in the light drizzle. His grey hoodie wasn't waterproof, and it was still ten minutes before he reached his home. Worse yet, the neighborhood he was currently passing through was notorious for its street gangs and violence. And James knew he was an easy target.
"Hey, you!" shouted a voice from behind him. James shuddered. He had managed to survive a day at school, only now to be hunted down and most likely mugged just minutes away from safety. "I said you, stop!" the voice shouted again. James quickened his pace, not looking back at the person calling after him. That would definetly be a bad idea.
"I said stop!" the voice shouted once more, this time nearer and much louder, closely followed by a well aimed blow at the back of James' head. James cursed under his breath and turned to face his attacker, clutching the place where he had been hit.
Standing before him now was a well built teenager, no older than nineteen, smirking at his victim. His light brown hair was greasy and uncombed, and his waxy complexion was pitted with zits and other such things.
"Can I help you?" James snapped, growling a little.
"Yeah, give me all your money, loser!" grinned James' attacker, suddenly whipping a knife out of his front pocket and placing it at James' throat, backing him up against the brick wall of a nearby building. James frowned. How could no one possibly notice he was being mugged in the middle of the street in broad daylight?
"I don't have any money, it was all stolen at school." he replied coolly, causing his attacker to turn a shade of red in anger.
"Prove it!" his attacker spat, glaring. In response James reached into his pockets and turned them all inside out.
"See? No money!" James growled, before suddenly grabbing his attacker's shoulders and kneeing his groin, before running off down the street towards his house.
"Hey, you!" shouted a voice from behind him. James shuddered. He had managed to survive a day at school, only now to be hunted down and most likely mugged just minutes away from safety. "I said you, stop!" the voice shouted again. James quickened his pace, not looking back at the person calling after him. That would definetly be a bad idea.
"I said stop!" the voice shouted once more, this time nearer and much louder, closely followed by a well aimed blow at the back of James' head. James cursed under his breath and turned to face his attacker, clutching the place where he had been hit.
Standing before him now was a well built teenager, no older than nineteen, smirking at his victim. His light brown hair was greasy and uncombed, and his waxy complexion was pitted with zits and other such things.
"Can I help you?" James snapped, growling a little.
"Yeah, give me all your money, loser!" grinned James' attacker, suddenly whipping a knife out of his front pocket and placing it at James' throat, backing him up against the brick wall of a nearby building. James frowned. How could no one possibly notice he was being mugged in the middle of the street in broad daylight?
"I don't have any money, it was all stolen at school." he replied coolly, causing his attacker to turn a shade of red in anger.
"Prove it!" his attacker spat, glaring. In response James reached into his pockets and turned them all inside out.
"See? No money!" James growled, before suddenly grabbing his attacker's shoulders and kneeing his groin, before running off down the street towards his house.