Categories > Original > Drama > cameras don't tell lies.
chapter eleven.
0 reviewspenny's past is back to haunt her. but does she even understand what's going on?
0Unrated
the creepy man from inside the store was standing there. his mere shadow scared me.
"what did you say bitch?", frankie said. i tugged at his jacket and shushed him.
the man scoffed, turning to frankie.
"you think you scare me?". his voice was deep, with a slither to it. he spoke in a southern accent. his breath reeked of pork rinds and beer.
he turned to me. i gulped.
"you remember me?"
"i don't know you"
"you ain't know me?"
"no"
"i think we've got a lil' problem here"
frankie and i stood tall, yet i could feel frankie's heart pumping louder and harder only by holding his hand.
"see, ya sold me out. ya ruined me. ya don't recognize me 'cause you ain't remember me the same way as i are nowadays". he sported a devilish smile, like he was possessed by a power stronger than all of us. if i hadn't peed before, i would've peed myself now.
"i don't know what you're talking about"
he pulled out a shiny knife that glared into my eyes.
"you want me to remind you?", he said, the smile gone, his eyes wild and glazed over.
"oh my god", i whispered. then suddenly, frankie pulled me around and under the man's arm, and he started to run, still holding on to me.
"c'mon, run!", frankie yelled. the man began to laugh in a sinister manner. i looked back and he was standing there, with no movement to his body, except that his head was tilted back dramatically. he dropped the knife, and a thousand needles pieced my ears as the silver hit the concrete.
frankie pushed me into the car, then himself. he turned the keys desperately, worry in his eyes. the boy from inside the store ran out and yelled something about the cigarettes frankie bought. we ignored him. the car started and frankie forced his foot onto the pedal, quickly and forcefully driving away. he sped up, the spedometer increasing by the second. once we were relatively far from that place, i grabbed myself and started to bawl.
"no, don't cry penny. don't cry baby, we're far away now... do you know that mother fucker?", frankie said.
i couldn't speak. the tears were choking me back. i let out loud shrieks... i couldn't control my self... i couldn't calm down. what had i done?
the whole "half an hour" to LA, which turned into about fifteen minutes, at the speed frankie kept up, i sobbed.
"what did you say bitch?", frankie said. i tugged at his jacket and shushed him.
the man scoffed, turning to frankie.
"you think you scare me?". his voice was deep, with a slither to it. he spoke in a southern accent. his breath reeked of pork rinds and beer.
he turned to me. i gulped.
"you remember me?"
"i don't know you"
"you ain't know me?"
"no"
"i think we've got a lil' problem here"
frankie and i stood tall, yet i could feel frankie's heart pumping louder and harder only by holding his hand.
"see, ya sold me out. ya ruined me. ya don't recognize me 'cause you ain't remember me the same way as i are nowadays". he sported a devilish smile, like he was possessed by a power stronger than all of us. if i hadn't peed before, i would've peed myself now.
"i don't know what you're talking about"
he pulled out a shiny knife that glared into my eyes.
"you want me to remind you?", he said, the smile gone, his eyes wild and glazed over.
"oh my god", i whispered. then suddenly, frankie pulled me around and under the man's arm, and he started to run, still holding on to me.
"c'mon, run!", frankie yelled. the man began to laugh in a sinister manner. i looked back and he was standing there, with no movement to his body, except that his head was tilted back dramatically. he dropped the knife, and a thousand needles pieced my ears as the silver hit the concrete.
frankie pushed me into the car, then himself. he turned the keys desperately, worry in his eyes. the boy from inside the store ran out and yelled something about the cigarettes frankie bought. we ignored him. the car started and frankie forced his foot onto the pedal, quickly and forcefully driving away. he sped up, the spedometer increasing by the second. once we were relatively far from that place, i grabbed myself and started to bawl.
"no, don't cry penny. don't cry baby, we're far away now... do you know that mother fucker?", frankie said.
i couldn't speak. the tears were choking me back. i let out loud shrieks... i couldn't control my self... i couldn't calm down. what had i done?
the whole "half an hour" to LA, which turned into about fifteen minutes, at the speed frankie kept up, i sobbed.
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