Crossroads

It was a cold and quiet night as the streets ran slick with the falling rain. John walked along the sidewalk, his arms crossed infront of him for warmth. The drops of water fell rythmically on his coat, creating a constant drumming noise. John would have never snuck out at this late an hour but he had something that had to be done.

The pale moon cast an eerie glow on the glittering pavement. Night in New York was much more ominous than the bustling day and the shadows held secrets better left undiscovered.

It had just been earlier that day that his friends had told him to meet them out on the intersection of Anglesburg and Willow street. He had also heard some talk of his “final test”. Whatever had been implied he was hardly prepared for what was in store for him.

Off in the distance was the familiar roar of a train he could hear from his bedroom window most nights. How different it sounded to him now, alone in the abandoned streets. His footsteps fell consecutively in the cumulative puddles and his pace increased as the almost unearthly roar came yet again.

He rounded the corner to Willow street, the last streach before his destination. The street, named for its overhanging willow trees, stood dark and mysterious with hardly any light reaching through the branches. With a reluctant sigh John continued on his way. His eyes constantly darted about nervously in the meager sanctuary of the street lights. The autumn leaves crunched under his boots, combined with the rains pitter patter and the winds howl to create a natural orchestra.
He breathed in and out deeply once more when the street was behind him. Now, turning to the corner, he saw a familiar figure. Alex was his name, the self employed leader of John’s new group of friends. His slick blond hair shimmered under the occasional flicker of the corner street light. He wore a black sweat shirt, and tapped his foot impatiently as he stood in the miserable rain.

“I’ve Been waiting for well over ten minutes,” Alex complained as John approached him.

John’s shoulders drooped. His friend could be very unforgiving at times. “It’s hard to get out of the house unnoticed,” he replied.

Alex showed no sign of caring whatsoever as he said, “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” John asked with an inquisitive glance.

Alex’s frown unexpectedly turned to a sinister grin. “It’s not that difficult. All you’ve got to do is get the money from this here store,” he explained, pointing to the corner store beside them. Then he reached into his pocket and presented an unremarkable pistol.

John could hardly believe his eyes or ears. He looked incredolously at Alex, then back to the gun.

Realizing John’s confusion, Alex snickered, “You didn’t just expect to just waltz in and ask for their money?”

John had never handled a weapon because the thought of harming or killing someone simply made him sick to the stomach. But he was too far in now, so with a gulp he took the gun. His hands trembled as he slipped it into his pocket. The dirty and scraggly store’s sign read “Arnold’s Convenience”, with a few letters bent out of shape and others not giving off their neon glow. He threw his jacket hood over his head, casting a veil of shadow over his face.

The sleeping man at the cash register snorted as the bell chimed and the door swung open. “How may I help ye?” he grumbled as he rose from his slouched position on the counter.

“I n-need your money,” John stammered as he brought the gun up to point at the man.

The man was suddenly fully awake as he faced the dilemna before him. “How much?” he asked casually in spite of the tense situation.

John hadn’t thought that far. He paused for a moment then answered, “All of it.”

This wasn’t the first time the man had dealt with robbers, New York was a rough city but this boy seemed so young. Without a sign of nervousness, he reached down as if to open the cash register. In a jolting movement he altered his course and reached below the counter, pulling up a gun of his own.

It all happened so suddenly. For that split second as John faced the possibilities of death his instincts for survival took control. He subconciously tightened his sweaty grip over the gun and pulled the trigger.

The man’s eyes widened as the bullet penetrated his chest. There was a loud pop, the noise of igniting gunpowder, and a blinding flash. Staring for one last second at John, the man toppled over onto the ground.

Those eyes.

The image stood with John for a few minutes leaving him mortified. The man standing there, blood leaking out of his clothes and his eyes pleading for mercy.

A bright yellow taxi with a checkered stripe had vaguely witnessed the events and now went
screeching off down the street. No doubt the police would soon be contacted.

John dropped the gun to the ground with an echoing click then made his way out onto the sidewalk. He could barely see Alex running off into the distance and all the realizations came to him in that single moment. He realized how he had let his priorities slide just so he could fit in with his so called friends, and how Alex had tricked him and ran at the first sign of complications. He was failing most courses, and skipping out of classes frequently. All of these things he knew he would have never done before. Not that it mattered anymore, the cops would be there any minute and he had killed a man. He nearly vomited when he thought about it. The man had done nothing to deserve to die. John truely regretted not letting the man shoot him.

Those eyes.

Despite his best efforts he could not get the painful image of the man standing in disbelief as he took his final breaths.

Now John was alone once more, standing on the corner of the water drenched crossroad. In one direction was Willow street, and in the other Anglesburg. Each was not fully protected from the surrounding darkness, but Anglesburg seemed much more inviting than the shadow consumed Willow street.

“Just another crossroad,” John muttered under his breath.

Just another crossroad in a city of intersections, each with a different path leading to different places.

The soft moan of approaching sirens could be heard faintly over the rain.