Twisted

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

The cool breeze seemed to mock her as it whistled softly past her ears. "Gotta get to a hospital, gotta get to the hospital, come on, come on, move your legs!" Megan coached herself as she stumbled along the sidewalk. Honestly, she wasn't very surprised when she was shot. Megan knew she was taking a risk going to the library- it was in the worst part of town-but she never thought she would get shot. Again, bad memories from watching the news resurfaced. There was a murder almost every week, and countless injuries.

Strangely enough, the only thoughts she had in her pain-clouded mind were those of she and Rose as children. They were always inseparable. Rose was one of those people who would smile at strangers. Her laugh was completely contagious, and her brown eyes always sparkled when she was happy, which was about all the time. Memories of them going to the pool, Rose laughing when Megan playfully splashed her, made its way into her mind.

*********** MEGAN'S POV ***********

My shoulder was on fire. I hadn't made much progress, stumbling along the side of the road. I probably looked like some crazed girl who hadn't managed to escape injury in a fight. This kind of thing was what people were used to. They would just automatically assume the worst, and no one bothered to stop and help. Yep. New York City, New York, is a troubled place.

I hunched my shoulders as much as I could and attempted to cover my face with the hood of my tattered jacket, navy blue threads hanging out everywhere. I just needed to avoid suspicious looks. To passerby, I might have gotten mugged or caught in the middle of a crossfire.

Today was warmer. I thought this as I trudged along the trash-ridden sidewalk, dodging any eye contact. I swear, I must've passed eight rough men in the past ten minutes who were carrying a gun. Why hadn't I just taken the car? I thought to myself. Because you can't freaking move your dang arm. I thought a sarcastic response to my own question.

I ran my hand over my shoulder and winced slightly. The hand came away scarlet again, the red liquid flowing more freely out of my wound. I still hadn't examined the injury yet, not while I was in such a terrible and crime-laden area of the city. The stale air infiltrated my senses, filling my mouth with still, dry oxygen.

I suddenly heard a commotion from about twenty feet from my left. I instinctively slunk back into an alley, concealed by darkness, and I soundlessly melted into the shadows. And not a moment too soon, it would appear, as a man raced past my hiding place with another man, knife drawn, and quickly closing the difference between them. I could feel the breeze from them passing on my face. They were gone a few seconds later, the only evidence of their presence the fading footsteps echoing against the wet alley walls. I sighed in relief, pressing against the rough cinderblock. That had been close. I couldn't have afforded to be spotted, not with my shoulder blasted to bits.

Suddenly, I reached into my jacket pocket with a bloodstained hand and grabbed my iPod. I quickly enabled the flashlight app, and shone it on my shoulder. I craned my head around to look at it, only to turn away the next second in disgust. My arm looked positively repulsive. My already shredded jacket was now decorated with rust colored stains, and fresh blood was still seeping through the thin fabric. No muscles appeared to be severed, however, as the bullet had only grazed it. That didn't stop the icy hot shots of pain that were shooting up and down my arm, though. Yeah, definitely not.

An onslaught of gunshots, shouts, and police sirens wailing snapped me back to reality, and I remembered where I was. Why couldn't I have chosen to live somewhere else? Why not Georgia, or something? Someplace less... dangerous. Preferably somewhere I didn't have to fear for my life.

I stepped tentatively out from the shadows, surveying the area around me. Wrappers from someone who had been too lazy to toss them into the trash can two feet away littered the ground. The smog-filled air infiltrated my lungs, forcing me to cough repeatedly. As I spluttered and tried to regain my breath, I missed the pounding footfalls that sounded on the cement next to me. A sharp pain coursed through my right shoulder blade as a man shoved his way past me on his haste to get away from an unseen threat. He almost knocked me clear into the wall. As I was about to yell at him to watch it, I remembered where I was, yet again. I stopped myself just in time as I watched the figure dissappear into the night.I turned around, trying to search for whatever he had been running from. There was nothing, as far as I could tell. I shrugged (and winced right after, mind you) and resumed my slow, steady trudge through the slums of New York.  I glanced to my right, towards the sidewalk across the road. It was eerily empty, which I thought was odd. Oh well. Since when had I started being concerned with the habits of NY traffic patterns?

There was one lone man, walking briskly towards me.There was a bulge in his pants pocket that suggested that he had a gun. I shuddered. I ducked into my windbreaker and hunched my back over even more, in an attempt to disguise myself. The guy was approaching me quickly, and I dodged to the side as he flew right past me, the breeze he had created ruffling my long hair. Speaking of my hair, I reached up with my good arm and swiped the pesky curls out of my face. The sharp shoulder pain had faded to a dull ache now, and dried blood had stained my jeans and shirt. Dang, I really had lost a lot of blood. In fact, I was feeling a bit dizzy, and the ground seemed to be spinning beneath my feet, like a carousel that I used to ride with Alice when we were children.

I mentally slapped myself and told myself to snap out of it. My head felt like a big weight, which probably had something to do with the fact that I never had sufficient recovery time from my concussion that I suffered from the car wreck, only three days ago. I glanced at my wrist with the intent of checking the time, only to find my pale wrist bare. I realized that I took it off this morning before heading to the library. I rolled my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Darn it all to heck!