Prolouge: Useless in the Murder City (1/3)

Life, so easy, so fragile. I would know; we all should know. Tuh, we all take it for granted now, don’t we? Don’t say or tell me that we haven’t at least once. Everywhere you look, you see someone either riding they’re new Camaroe, the roar of the engine making them feel superior. Or the old, unshaven man wedged between the bridge gaps.
I know this is probably a pointless beginning but I know, and you know that it is true.
I sat in my Ford F-150, breathing heavily, opening and closing my eyes, trying to relax. Obviously, the Miley Cyrus song wasn’t helping so I flipped the XM Radio channel. Green Day came through and I smiled, “awh, Viva la Gloria…such a nice song” I said to myself.
I waited patiently for my brother in the Albertson-Mega Mini Mart parking lot; row C, parking space number forty-eight. I stared at the radio for the time. The time flashed green and I groaned. I got here exactly thirty-seven minutes ago, what can be taking so long? It was 8:52 PM and chilly outside.
Feeling of numbness crawled from the tips of my fingers to my hands; I reached out for the heat control. Without thinking, I jammed the knob to full heat. A gust of hot, putrid air shot out at me and I coughed, waving it away from me. Sneering, I rolled down the window to let out some of the hot, musty air.
The air outside was just bone-chilling, literally. Bumps seem to erupt from my skin and my spine seemed to be zapped. “Stupid car and its unbearable smell of heat; stupid weather,” I grumbled under my breath.
The meteorologist predicted that the strong cold front would come in, didn’t know it was going to be this cold. –For you people saying that Global Warming is real, then why is it cold? Oh, right! It doesn’t exist! Score one for me! - But I took in a deep breath of the cold air. It was nice, striking, crisp and quite pleasing to the feel. But my skin protested.
A roar of an engine sounded beside me and I looked to my left, outside of my open window. An old Firebird revved up next to me. I drew my attention away from the old antique car and closed my eyes, listening to another Green Day song: St. Jimmy. I felt at peace as the heat of my air conditioner and nature’s cold settled down upon me. This is quite nice.
Who knows, I could’ve drifted off to sleep, but that’s why I had the punk rock song on, to keep my blood flowing and me awake. But it was too good: Nature’s Weather Blanket to resist. My alert brain became slowly dull as sleep incased it.
The Firebird honked its horn and I jolted out of my seat, hitting my head against the hood of my Ford. I swore out loud and looked outside my window to glare at the Firebird. “What the Hell man? You’re in a parking lot for Christ sake!” I said to the stranger in the car.
The window rolled down slowly and a fragile hand stuck out. It then raised its middle finger. I stared at the finger and glanced away. Immature old person. I had to urge to yell back at him, but didn’t. I glanced back at the radio. It was turned off in sleep mode. I touched the button and it glowed back to life, music spewing from the speakers.
The world seemed to grow darker as the moon hid amongst the clouds and the sun is engulfed by the earth.
My brother was taking too long and this must have been the first time I left my cell phone at home. Idiot, why did you leave your phone at home?
I did not stray out of my car to go retreive my brother; rumors have flown from place to place of a French or Italian gang had been breaking and robbing cars and items from people. With that on my mind, my bravery status seemed to drop. More, then better of me surrendering the car and my belonging.
I reclined my seat back to relax a bit longer as I waited. But before my seat was fully inclined, I reached out for 9 Millimeter Pistol, cradling it in my hand. I flipped the safety on and opened the canister to see how many bullets remained. The ammo rack was full; I guess I never have used this before. The gun was cold and it gave me a since of power and authority, sort of that: I can Rule the World, type of feeling. I put canister back in and, making sure the safety was completely on, I laid back and reclined my seat further, the gun in my right hand, in my hoody pouch, finger next to the trigger.

More to come soon, i promise. I just have to keep checking and double checking my writing.
Your Host, Kyle