Vendetta.

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My heart is pounding. The rhythm is so fast that I swear I lost my breath. The adrenaline spike is high and I swear my hands beneath those black gloves were shaking profusely. The gun on my hand was bound to fall any time. But Joni snapped me at the back of my head whispering loud,  ‘This is a revenge heist, you need to act cool ‘. How the hell did I end up there. Why was I in bed with such people? Or the better question, who was I?

To shed some light on the current situation of vengeance. I got myself in a band of pretty bad people at the beginning of my college studies. Peer pressure, you can call it that..Or maybe because I was searching for a sense of belonging. Anyway they all seemed cool at first. The drugs they were distributing in various house parties did not bother me at all. Neither did other counterfeit products. Let’s just say I had a smoke of that pipe of evil and lost my soberness for a few months not until the moment I was holding a gun on innocent people lying prostate terribly frightened by the turn of events. A bank robbery ; I swear that thought crossed their minds.

It happened so that the bank we were doing a revenge heist on belonged to some philanthropist, business tycoon and arguably the ‘government ‘. Well,  all that was in the light,  but there was darkness in his eyes. He was a rival drug lord and notorious human trafficker… Chains and chains of his businesses camouflaging this sheer truth. Now when he had about us(DemBoyz)..he wouldn’t just let it go… He wouldn’t let us into his territory… Our last stash got hit… Money got lost in the process… Lots and lots of it. So we were just returning a favour.

“We are not here to steal your money, we are here for the Bank’s money” Call it cliché if you want… But it was so real for the hostages.. Their sweat streaked faces could tell you so. Roba(the gang leader) got the bank manager into opening a certain important safe. The moment he did so,Roba put a bullet to his head. I  felt the ringing in my ears.. Nausea. I almost passed out. To be truthful,  I was far much better seing people die in TV than in real sense. This was too much graphic,  seeing someone’s head burst, blood gutting out towards you.. I was going to have that nightmare for a while.

Roba and Joni took a bunch of cash held by rubber bands and spread it on the ground. Then as planned, I took out my lighter set the whole bunch on fire. Precious money, slowly melting away in front of our eyes. Afterwards we took the back door, with Roba madly firing shots in the air.. You could hear the terrified civilians scream as if we were actually there. Though one of the civilians might have been brave enough to get help from the police, he was rather too sloppy for the cops just missed us probably by minutes.

“Roba, what were you thinking killing that guy, ” I could not control what I felt at that moment when we were back at our Base. “I was sending a message to our friend, ” I swore he laughed, a troubled sinister kind of laughter. There was no humanity in this creature. They said I didn’t have the balls. They were right. So I wanted out but like most crews, once you are in there is no getting out.

So that day I had to skip my lessons just to have a piece of quietude and serenity. There is no better place to do that than on a lonely bench in a park. Deep in thoughts, flashes of everything that happened. It was a daydream worse than a nightmare. Reliving that moment when that guy got his head blown off. Nobody has to face such inhumanity. Just like my favorite hero, Daredevil, always says no one has to die. I watched the park slowly flow in with multitude. Couples enjoying the sun, children playing with water balloons,  ice-cream vendors busy exploiting the crowd. I saw it all, till the dusk of the sun and how it painted the sky orange. The multitude started shrinking and before I knew it one of the guards arouse me from my state of limbo. The park was bound to be closed soon.

With the creeping darkness,  I took my time pacing through the streets with nothing at mind. The City was colourful. Call it the nocturnal state of affairs. Most businesses thrive at night,  so they say.  As I walked, some lady approached me,  “What do you say, one fine night? ” I knew that look in her eyes. She meant business. That tight skirt proved it all. So short, so micro. But I wasn’t interested so I went on searching for a bus stop so that I could go home. At one moment, I bumped to one of those guys who specialize in selling counterfeits. Wondering how I know they are counterfeits,  I used to be in the business too. So I knew better to ignore him. And that shubby guy dressed in a baggy jacket. He had itcy fingers but mine were itchier. He took my wallet,  I stole it back.

Finally, at the bus stop. Thinking to myself how was I to get out of my current situation. As I was about to board the bus, I felt a hand swiftly slide to my nose. I was gagged.

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