Might Just Take Your Life Fragment taken from: The Storyteller, Volume III Mike said, while pointing both guns at me, “I don’t think so, Mr. Chicken. Besides, you are still not capable of shooting anyone, Ricky; so sit back and relax.… Enjoy the ride for now. It has been fun.” I could tell he was really enjoying the whole thing. Mike put one of the guns away and sat in a better position on the front seat, to be able to point his gun at me without having to turn around all the time. Bobby looked at me in his rearview mirror; I tried to find some sympathy in his eyes, but realized he was just as bad as Mike. I didn’t belong with those two; I had made a big mistake when I ran away from school with Mike. I should have stayed back in Merritt. “Oh, and one more thing….” I heard Mike’s voice; I turned to look at him again. “Take this and put it in your back pocket. Do it, Ricky.” His wallet fell on my lap; I looked up at him, very surprised.

I need to believe...

“I thought you said we weren’t keeping our wallets or personal IDs with us…,” I said, somewhat confused.

Mike had made me get rid of my wallet; I had also watched him throw Bobby’s wallet inside the same garbage bin, moments before the robbery. In case we got caught, it would take them a while to find out who we were; or so Mike said.

“Do as I say, not as I do.” He smiled some and added, “Put it in your back pocket; don’t make me say it again.”

“What are you going to do, Mikey?” Bobby asked, confused.

“It’s a beautiful plan I just thought of, Bob. We get rid of him and the car at the same time; we will burn both, and when they find his body they’ll think it’s me…. Don’t you see? It’s my ticket to a new life.… A life without my stupid family looking for me. I will erase my past. My parents are always watching my every move … trying to manipulate my life.… But no more!”

I took the wallet and put it inside my back jeans pocket. I realized I had to do something if I wanted to live; but I couldn’t think of anything at that moment. It all seemed to be against me. Even if I tried to jump out of the car, Mike would certainly shoot me before I could open the door.

We passed a sign that read, “Now Leaving Yale. Come visit again.”

“But how are we gonna get another car, Mike?” Bobby asked, concerned.

“Oh my God, Bobby! You are such a whiner! Do I have to explain every single move we make? What did I do to deserve this? You are so annoying sometimes, you drive me insane, and I think you do it on purpose!”

Mike turned to look at Bobby and I noticed he brandished the gun in Bobby’s direction while yelling at his friend. That gave me an idea: if I could take over Mike and the gun, I would be able to make Bob stop the car so I could get out. After that, I would hitchhike to safety and as far away from that pair as possible.

I would turn myself in later to the police. Robbing the bank had been the biggest mistake of my life; I had truly believed Mike when he said no one would get hurt. All I had to do was cover his back while he did all the work. He said he would shoot no one … and I needed the money.

Quick, easy money for the three of us….

The first thing Mike did when we entered the bank was shoot a young man in the back; Mike then shot a clerk while I retrieved the security guard’s gun.

I had no idea how the clerk and the customer were doing, but I knew for a fact that Mike had killed the security guard in cold blood, and in front of at least ten people.

Where did he learn to shoot like that?

“There, Bobby…. Take that next dirt road.… Here’s where our little friend will have an accident.”

I felt goose bumps all over my body. I closed my eyes.

I don’t want to die.