A work in progress
Copy right Jazmine M. NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO PRINT THIS STORY
Not Finished: He stood on the subway platform leaning against the staircase raining. His head slightly hanged low, but high enough to observe his surroundings. The train was ten minutes late, and because of this there was an immense amount of people. Due to the freezing temperature their coats were buttoned or zipped to the top, scarves rapped around their necks tightly, or if they didn’t posses a scarf their hoods protected their necks, and for those who choose not to wear gloves, like him, had to place their hands in their coat pockets. Although, he only owned one out of three of the items he was fairly warm thanks to his North Face. With his fine hazel eyes he stalked those who went up or down the stair case like a hawk searching for prey.
Once they halted in movement or got on the Uptown A, B, D, or C train he’d quit. He adjusted his position to become more comfortable, he knew he was going to be there for a while, and to get a better view of those who passed him. Because this game was beginning to bore him he ceased watching people, and stared at the platform. Out of the blue an odor struck his nostril, it was an odor that enticed, and disgusted him. The smell was familiar it wasn’t just the common urine stench it was something more sugary yet poignant. His curiosity nipped at his mind like a dog tugging, and chewing on a chew toy. He finally moved forward to the orange chipped paint, and feed it.
What he peered at was two dirt brown rats pulverized. Their heads crushed; small amounts of dried blood, what looked like organs and limbs spread out on the railings. Their long pink tails minced, and scattered between the tracks. He could see maggots in the eye sockets feasting, and moving around. His mind said move, but his legs stayed he didn’t comprehend why God or even the devil was toying with his movements. The world around him disappeared he no longer saw or heard the people it was just him, the rats, and memories. He now felt like a puppet, unable to move on his own, all he yearned to do was cut the strings so he could move back to his original standing place. Yet he stood there nearly on the edge of the platform staring intently as if he wanted to make these dead rats his breakfast.
Regret trailed off in his heart he didn’t desire to be reminded of something he escaped, if he known these emotions would have stir up again he wouldn’t have taken those few steps, and peered at these dead rats. A couple of people watched him, in the corner of their eye or directly, in awe, and disgust, They wondered how someone could be so intrigued by seeing two dead rats, and disgusted because he was focused on their maggot infested decaying bodies.. He turned his head to right to see who was still viewing at him. He saw a tall, thin Hispanic woman. He looked up, and down at her not moving his head, but his eyes. He didn’t do this motion with an attitude like most girls tend to do he did this motion slowly, and peacefully. She had straight long black hair, a pretty face however, her eyes were slightly too wide it gave her an appearance that she was surprised. She wore denim jeans, high heeled leather boots, and a dark navy blue coat. He patiently waited for her to stop staring at him, her face contorted with disgust. She rolled her eyes then turned her head. He finally moved back, there were two or three people behind him, shyly he excused him self. Either it was because he forced his legs to move back or because he was sick of the attention and in addition extremely felt embarrassed. A question swam in his mind: why didn’t I move?
He couldn’t answer himself the answers lied between rational and irrational and he was unable to distinguish what was real or unreal. He felt perplexed, usually he was able to explain why he did something, but the answer wouldn’t come to mind. When he approached the railing he leaned against it, and again held his head low in shame, but this time not high enough to see any one. He closed his eyes for minute the smell still seeping into his nostrils. He tried to battle it by breathing through his mouth, but now he tasted the smell. His thoughts were precise the flavor was sweet yet hid bitterness.
He raised his head, his eyes still closed. He desperately tried to liberate himself from the smell, but an odd sensation engulfed his heart. He wasn’t capable of detecting the sensation; awkward as this may sound he felt that the smell… was calling to him. When he figured this out he was swept away by a flashback of his father house… Seconds passed, and he still was absorbed into his flashback. When his vision became too intense he opened his eyes aghast. He wiped the beads of sweat with his hand, and let out a sigh of relief. I escaped he convinced himself in his mind, but he couldn’t help but to feel, in the pit of his stomach, worry, and doubt. Trying to avoid what he just witnessed he became fixated on the subway ceiling. The wall was dingy, chipped, filled with black spots, and orange streams. He folded his arms across his chest, and inspected a little more trying to avoid, and run away from his past.
A large black woman began to walk down the paved stairs inspecting each step because she was timid her black suede shoes would get messed up. She wore a black skirt, a brown hat, and a brown leather coat. She went down a step no gum there, another step no gum there. She continuously repeated “no gum there” in her mind in rhythm. When she reached the center of the staircase she saw him believing his eyes were fixed on what was between her legs. “Oh my God” she said to the man on the right but he couldn’t hear her because he was listening to his CD player.
The large woman decided to take matters into her own hands. She expected him to avert his attention somewhere else by now yet he still gazed up her skirt she thought. She pressed the skirt to her knees “Uh- uh” she stated quite loudly “How dare you. What the hell is wrong with you?” When she realized she was merely shouting at a guy who was dense she wanted to throw a brick at him to knock some sense back into him. She walked to the right so he wouldn’t be able to gaze up her skirt. The man removed the headphones from his ear obviously hearing the woman’s loud mouth “What’s the matter?”
“This nigga” she pointed downwards to him “He’s trying to look up my skirt” she said softly yet enraged. He focused his attention on him “You see, you see he’s still doing it!”
“Ight calm down” he said gripping on her robust shoulders “I got this motherfucker.” He walked casually down the stairs holding the woman’s hand. With her free hand she held the black skirt to her knees even though he was unable to see it she whispered profanity, and insults about the guy who looking up her skirt.
They didn’t seem to notice that he didn’t try to follow her movements, or try to avert his gaze. When they stood on the platform he still was fixated on the ceiling. The large black woman whispered in the man’s ear “He’s a pervert.” The man nodded in agreement. He took two steps still holding the woman’s hand. He and the woman weren’t that far from where he stood, but he called out “Hey!” He didn’t snap out of his daze he let go of the woman’s hand and cupped both hands against his mouth “Yo!” There was still no response from him, and the women were beginning to get frustrated. They decided no he decided to approach him she just tagged along waiting to see a confrontation she stated to him while they moved forward: don’t fuck him up too bad Giles.
“Excuse me” Giles said loudly. He had a low voice like Barry White. He uttered what, and then peered at the large man and woman (who was slightly thicker then the man) before him. The man’s eyes were red, and he had an unpleasant odor of weed. “Am I in your way?” he said softly then he moved towards the wall.
Giles flashed him a smile he had large crooked teeth. “No, no it’s not that.” Perplexity began to dwell in his soft hazel eyes he was unaware what that man or woman wanted. He hesitated to speak, and decided it’s best if the man said something first. There was an odd silence between them Giles kept smiling at him then at the woman. Giles finally spoke “You see” he lowered his Barry White voice. “My girl was complaining to me.” He looked at his girl he contemplated in his head that she was far from being a girl she was a beast. Her eyes were cocked, her feet were too large for her body, and little bits of hair spread out under her nose creating a mustache, but God created a soul mate for everyone. He tried hard not to laugh at his own joke. He tried to listen intently to the nonsense the man was saying but he was to busy concocting jokes about the woman he only heard the last seven words. “So I’m asking you to say sorry” Giles said properly. He desperately wanted this guy to repeat what he was saying, but he didn’t desire to offend him.
“What? Do you have wax between your ears?” the woman said her voice also deep but held slight femininity
“No” he said softly
“Then are you fucking stupid?” the women shouted a couple of people in the train station turned there heads, but figured it was nothing
“Shush baby I got this” he said averting his gaze on her then back on him
“No, I am not stupid” the warmth, and smoothness in his voice diminished, but he avoid getting tight over a silly insult. “I’m sorry sir but I didn’t hear you may you please state what you just said again” the women sucked her teeth, and rolled her eyes mumbling under her breath.
Giles faced him again, Giles was the same height as him, 6’2’, but Giles triumphed in weight he proximately weighed 350. Giles wasn’t too enthusiastic he had to explain this again he wanted to knock this nigga out. No one disrespects my girl he convinced himself.
“Ight” Giles stated. He realized the little act Giles played making his voice real cavernous was a hoax “My girl said you were looking up her skirt, and I’m asking you to apologies.” Confusion crossed his face again
“Looking up her skirt?” he said disoriented. He had no clue what he was bickering about
Giles shook his head yes “Yes, looking up her skirt”
“Sir I didn’t” he said innocently. Soon after he began pondering even if I was I wouldn’t be able to see between her legs, she’s too fat. A noticeable smirk crossed his face, and Giles immediately took it the wrong way. Giles looked back at his girl enraged “I don’t think you heard me I want you to apologies” Giles was no longer asking he was demanding it.
“Look sir I don’t want any trouble”
He began to chuckle while looking at his girl she did the same not to sure why he was laughing “Can you believe this guy?” Giles said to his woman and she replied by shaking her head no. Then Giles focused on him “Then you should have thought of that before you messed with my girl”
“I didn’t mess with your girl” he said casually
“Yes you did” Giles’s girl spoke
“I didn’t!” he said in a more than audible tone
“Don’t raise you voice at her” Giles massive hand pinned him against the tiled wall.
“That’s right!” his girls shouted while lighting a cigarette.
He suddenly felt aghast not only because this immense man was suppressing him, but also because he didn’t yearn for any trouble, or to fight he knew what it would lead to. He turned his head to the side away from Giles, and his girl. He was grasping onto his temper, and his instinct to fight. Giles removed his hand from his shoulder “Listen man I’m not a bad guy…” he paused to think “If you say sorry I’ll leave.” He thought it over for a second. “Why should I say sorry for something I didn’t do?” he said without looking at them. He didn’t wait for a response “This shit is silly” he marched in the direction he was viewing at. He sensed a new surge of power. The sensation was tremendously good usually when a conflict arouses between him and a person he’d fight, but now he was walking away. He felt like the bigger man for once.
Giles placed his left arm on the dingy white titled wall in front of him “Where the fuck you think you’re going?” Giles grabbed him by the collar of his coat and pushed him against the wall. “This shit isn’t so silly you disrepec’ing me, and my girl so don’t play games!” Giles screamed furiously. His shouts attracted a large amount of attention. A crowd of instigators, the majority teenagers, formed a circle around them. Giles’s hot breath was filling his lungs it reeked of baloney, and onions.
His hand began to tremble “not now” he said softly to himself
“What’s that?” Giles demanded his clutch on his collar tightened
“I don’t want to fight, please don’t make me fight you” he pleaded. Giles chuckled quietly “Ah, so you the type of nigga that’s pussy” he chuckled again but more audibly “Nigga’s who do the type of shit you just pulled get their face sliced up around my block bitch.” The crowd watched intently some whispered to their friends or to the stranger next to them. Giles began to dig into his pocket. Giles’s girl knew exactly what he was reaching for. Please send me an e-mail telling if you like or disliked the story
