The+Value+of+Life

BAM! BAM! They are catching up. BAM! Oh no, they have spotted me. What should I do? While I survey my surroundings, I am aware of the loud and fast footsteps coming my way. I can see the shimmer of the moonlight against his pistol. To my right I spot a ladder leading to the roof of the building. Without hesitation I jump onto it and start climbing for my life. BAM! To my right, a chunk of concrete falls downward to the ground. My body, by some miracle, does not stop. My muscles are screaming at me to stop, but arms and legs just keep on going. BAM! Now it is to my left. The window shatters and sharp, ridged glass pieces start to fall like rain. But my mind is elsewhere. I am not focusing on the gunshots, the broken glass, my muscles but I am focusing on my life. I spare one single moment to look down. Right below me, on the rusty ladder is him. He is keeping his cool but gaining on me like a cheetah hunting a gazelle. What have I got myself into this time? Is my life really worth only 3 million dollars? I wanted a challenge but not death.

I start to panic when I see him as close as he is. I don’t have any weapons on me, I am beginning to slow down, and the roof seems miles away. This is it. This is what my life has become. Soon I will just be a fly swatted at and killed instantly. I don’t want to think about what will happen afterwards, to my body when I release the ladder and fall all 4 stories to the ground. In my 3 years of experience, I have only been shot at once before, and that was by my father. My pursuer is now only around an arm’s length away. This is it. It is now or never. I start to let go of the railing and close my eyes. I positioned myself so my legs can thrash out at the man. As my feet banged against his skull, I reached out to the ladder to grab myself. But where was it? My arms started to wail as I couldn't find anything to hold on to. I opened my eyes finally and could see the man falling to his death below me. What I couldn't see was the ladder which was supposed to be right next to me. About a second has passed by since I let go of the ladder. What was I thinking? Am I insane? How could I honestly have thought that I could somehow grab onto the ladder again? As my arms were looking for something, anything to grab onto, my mind was somewhere else.

 They say that when you are nearing death that your life flashes by your eyes. Half of that is true. All the bad things are there like the time my dad punched my head leaving a bruise the size of an apple on my forehead. But that is all. No good. Just evil. 5 years ago, it was a normal school day. My mother kissed me goodbye in the morning while my dad was eating cereal with vodka instead of milk, like always. I remember walking to school that day. I kept on thinking what my mom saw in him. He was rich but he was an asshole. He treated my mom like a dog. He was a little better with me because he knew if he put a hand on me, I could have him sent to jail. But that didn’t stop him from verbally abusing me. When I arrived at school, I did what I always did, I went to my first class so the district can see that I went to school for the day and in between first and second period, my buddy, Scott, and I went straight for the exit. Once outside, Scott suggested we head into town. I didn’t see why not. Mom never went into town and my dad was too drunk to get the mail, he couldn’t be in town. Scott and I walked the two miles to our favorite spot, the alley behind the ice cream shop. There, we were hidden from society; we could say whatever we wanted and do anything that came to our mind. That day was no exception. I told Scott the latest screw-up my dad had gotten into. Scott told me about his adventure to our friend, Lawn. He then proceeded to show me a bag full of what looked like grass, but I knew too well that it was pot. He then threw me an apple and next thing I knew, we were in a whole different world. A world without my dad. After a while, we got a bit bored so we hid the marijuana and the apple behind a loose brick in the wall. We started to head back to school but then I had a better idea. We started to go in the direction of my house. When we were a couple blocks away, I stopped Scott and showed him a shortcut through a neighbor’s yard. I remember it like it was yesterday. Right when I climb to the window closest to the wine cellar, I heard my mother scream from her bedroom. What happened next, I will never forgot for the rest of my life, how long or short that will be. As I ran up the steps, her screams became louder and louder. Right as I opened the door, the screaming stopped. As I opened the door, the most horrifying scene laid before my eyes. My mother was on the ground with purple circles all over her arms and face. A crimson color liquid was flowing out of her skull. And worst of all, my father was sitting on the bed, drinking his goddam tequila bottle. Down below, I distantly heard Scott screaming my name. All I could focus on at the time was my dad’s tequila and my motionless mother. There was about 3 seconds where my dad and I had a starring contest, and then I turned around and ran. I ran for my life and never turned back.

My mind snapped back to the present when my hand finally felt something, I tried to grab on, with all my concentration, for my survival instincts failed on me about the time I let go of the ladder. My hand finally did grab whatever it did, but my body kept on falling and then I buckled when my hand succeeded in saving my life. I instantly reach up with my other hand for what seemed like an hour. Finally, with both hands secure on the ledge, a glance down; there, lying motionless as my mother once did was the man in the black suit. I finally start to make out where I am. I see the ladder to my left and find out that I am probably still 1 story above the ground. I could probably jump and not break anything. My hands were starting to slip of the ledge and I didn’t know how much time I had left before I couldn’t hold onto so I decided to jump. I flew through the air like a baby bird’s first time flying. I positioned myself so on the impact, I would do a somersault like the movies. There was one huge flaw in the plan. This is not the movies. As I landed on my feet, I plunged forward and slammed my head against the asphalt instead of tucking my head and landing perfectly. I felt some stinging in the right cheek and felt the goo crawl down my jaw. Who cares about a little scar when you were in a life death situation and survived?

On my way home, I stopped by my friend Harry’s house to get new clothes for mine were not going to be used again, even as a washcloth. I filled him in on the details and asked him if he wanted some of the money. When he accepted the generous offer, I handed over a few stacks of what I like to call, Benjamin’s. He thanked me and then asked if I needed a place to stay. I had a place so I declined and headed off. Back at my penthouse, I emptied my pockets. The jacket I was wearing was designed for heist. The pockets were so deep but the jacket itself was stylish; it was designed by Calvin Klein himself. I counted the bills, each green sheet of paper and I got a little over two million dollars. O picked up the money and put them in the safe, which is in the floor below my bed. As I lay in bed, I think to myself, what have I done to myself? I am not doing anymore heist anymore. But who was I kidding; both my thoughts and I knew that was not true.

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