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Lucky or Unlucky
"Ah... ah... ah...
I was out of breath. I had fled from the village with the church, but I didn't know where to go. I was crossing the road, but no car passed by. I had to run faster; the sooner, the better.
If I had calculated correctly, I had been running for about three hours. I didn't know where I was, and I didn't know what to do.
Another half hour passed, and I was starting to lose hope when I saw lights in the distance. Excited, I ran toward them. The closer I got, the clearer they became: a gas station with a small store.
I took cover by the side of the road. I wanted to go forward, but I stopped myself. I was a twelve-year-old child with the body of a nine-year-old, without money and without any thieving skills—what was I supposed to do?
I waited. About ten minutes later, a few cars—I didn't know the models—stopped. The music was so loud that I could hear it from a distance. Several seventeen- or eighteen-year-old youths stepped out, wearing strange clothes, with long, messy hair, black and frightening makeup.
And the girls—half-naked in the cold, probably drunk—stood there.
I didn't know if this was an opportunity or a curse. I decided to approach; maybe I wouldn't attract too much attention. Just as I was about to get closer, an explosion went off. Someone filling up gasoline swore loudly. The girls ran into the van in fear. Another gunshot exploded. I was lying there, cursing my bad luck. More gunshots rang out, then the sound of tires screeching, shouting, and evil rap music faded into the distance.
I stood up, cleaned the dirt off my clothes, and cautiously approached the store. No cameras were visible. Blood stains were everywhere. The moans of someone inside and the disgusting smell of vomit made me sick.
I put a black cloth over my face and entered. The moaning continued. Among the scattered items, I could still see blood smeared across the floor. I stepped carefully, making sure not to touch it with my shoes. I took two steps when the moaning became quieter. I ran quickly and saw a middle-aged man lying in his own blood. His chest was covered in blood, and a long gun had fallen beside him. One hand pressed on the part of his chest where he had been shot.
He would probably die. I said a church prayer for him, made the sign of the Holy Trinity, cursed the guilty spirit, and said "Amen." When I opened my eyes, he no longer breathed. His eyes were closed, and I didn't want to close them again.
I took a deep breath and passed by him. I looked at the cash register inside; a few pounds had fallen. I picked them up, avoiding the ones stained with blood. I grabbed a small knife and put it in my pocket. I also took a small bag from the shelf and filled it with a bottle of water, a biscuit, a lighter, and other items I thought might be useful. I exited through the door.
After a few steps, I looked back. Nothing seemed wrong. I prayed for the departed and for those who helped, and then ran toward the distance.
I had seven pounds and forty-seven pence in my hands. A lucky number—I hoped this journey would be safer.
The sky was brightening; it was dawn. My eyes couldn't see far. I thought about the future, the past, my journey, and little Nadia. I hoped she was okay and that nothing had happened to her. If one day I could return, I would take her with me.
I had to think about what to do next. First, I needed to find a place where I could live a few years without trouble, get a job to earn money, drink milk, grow taller, and learn self-defense. Perhaps the army would be a good choice: I would get paid, get free food, and not have to escape anywhere.
Looking into a mirror, I saw a beautiful face beneath. When I grow up, I would have a handsome face. Maybe I would marry a beautiful girl. Imagining that made me smile awkwardly, like a pervert. I hoped anyone who entered my life could handle my depression and introversion. Amen.
A continuous honk snapped me out of my thoughts. I got scared. A bright light hit me from behind, and adrenaline surged through my body. My body instinctively rolled aside in that critical moment.
A car sped past where I was, still honking. My head hit a rock, and I lost consciousness. Before that, I heard heavy footsteps next to me, and my last thought was: I hope they haven't caught me. Amen."
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