By: Garrett Blair

Stephen sat in the old blue car, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. The radio was playing one of his favorite songs, "Stuck in the Middle With You". He hadn't heard that song for a long time, probably in a movie or something. He watched many movies and always had role models like Harvey Keitel or Robert DeNiro. He always wanted to be the tough guy pulling the trigger and being head of the whole situation. Instead, he was just some guy that drove a car.

Stephen relaxed back in the driver's seat. He stroked his hand through his short blond-dyed hair, and pulled out a cigarette resting on his ear. He pulled out his lighter and lit the end of the cigarette, and began to puff away slowly. Stephen looked at his blue plastic wristwatch. It was 9:30. This was his tenth time, what was taking so long? Stephen began to get worried.

He could feel the sweat drip down his face. His sunglasses fogged up. He tapped harder on the wheel. The radio was still blaring at him. He looked at his watch again. This time it was 9:33. He smoked some more on his cigarette. He looked around and noticed he was in a no parking zone. Stephen began to get real tense. Something was wrong.

Then an alarm sounded. It was so loud that it drowned out the radio. A door opened from the bank he was parked next to. A man with a black mask ran towards the passenger seat of the car. He threw a black bag into the back seat and began to open the side door. He shouted something to Stephen, but it was drowned out by the alarm. Stephen picked up his sidearm and squeezed the trigger. The masked man fell to the ground. Stephen put the car in gear and drove on.

The alarm still sounded, and now there were accompanying police sirens. Stephen took a back alley. He grabbed the black bag from the back seat and got out of the car. He began to run, but he soon tripped and fell down. He got up and looked behind. He saw he tripped over a bum's outstretched leg. The bum was saying something, but Stephen couldn't hear it. The alarm was blaring everything out. Stephen lifted his gun and squeezed the trigger. The bum was still alive, so he pulled it again.

He ran out of the alley, bag in hand. His hearing was still drowning out everything he could hear. He became frantic. Sweat poured down his face. A woman gave him an ugly look. He squeezed the trigger. She fell to the ground. Everyone began to run and scream in panic. Stephen couldn't hear any of their pleas. He lifted the gun and kept pressing the trigger. Dozens of citizens fell to the ground.

Stephen could see the flashing red and blue lights of police cars as they surrounded him. The police got out of their cars and began to shout orders at him. He couldn't hear them, because the alarm was still louder. They weren't going to take him alive. The police were still shouting. The alarm was still ringing. Stephen pulled the trigger.

The gun was empty. A spectacular explosion of light flashed around Stephen. Then the pain sank in. The bullets penetrated him, but he would not fall. More bullets hit him. He fell to his knees, and grabbed the black bag with his remaining strength. He opened it, and found the dark emptiness within. He closed his eyes and fell face down to the hard concrete. The last sound Stephen heard was the loud sound of the alarm.

Garrett's home page is at: http://yzone.home.ml.org