I smell the grimy concrete that I might die on. I taste the blood that settles in the back of my throat, the stench that fills the alley that I lie in. I would never have thought that life would end like this, but at least the view is good. The sky is crystal clear. I finally have the clarity that people talk about right before they die. I know this is going to be the end. I can't move. I feel the gravel through my shirt; pieces of glass pierce my skin. It stings but the pain subsides compared to the pain in my stomach. The only thing I knew about who attacked me is that they had shocking blue eyes the color of the Caribbean ocean. I saw the determination in his eyes as he slid the blade into the left side of my stomach. I want to forgive my attacker so when I pass I have no need for revenge on the other side, if there's another side... I feel like there is another side or at least that’s what I have been told all these years. I can hear horns and chatter from the street corner that I just bought groceries from. How funny is it that a little while ago I was telling the clerk to have a great Thanksgiving when I won't even see a turkey this year. In retrospect, I should have been more benevolent to my family and friends. I fear that no one will come to my funeral when I’m dead , I know my mother won't shed a tear when she throws that last handful of dirt on my casket, because she never really loved me. It was all for show. Just like her marriage to my father; it was all fake. Why am I thinking about my mother when I’m bleeding out? I really need to try and stay awake I really don’t want to fall asleep because I know what happens when people fall asleep in movies. They always die. I hear the clacking of someone’s heels on the pavement as I doze off. I feel the sting of a hand on the right side of my cheek. I shockingly see a women standing over me in trashy clothing and thick platform heels. She looks to be around 17 but the age under her eyes tells me something different. She says not a word. She leans down to look at the hole in my stomach and gasp when she realizes I have been stabbed. She pulls out her phone to dial 911. She says something to me but I can't understand her. She says it again and I comprehend it. She asked me if I saw my attacker. I cough up blood and barely get the word ‘no’ out of my mouth as I hear the sirens burning the insides of my ears with the screeching noises that comes from the ambulance. I can hear the woman telling me help is coming but for some reason I feel like they're too late to help me. There are police now. They are roping off the scene people are starting to gather. I get lifted on to the stretcher to be taken to the hospital, I guess. They put pressure on my stomach. It oozes out blood like a sponge on the kitchen sink. They look to each other perplexed that I had survived this long without care. They tell me I’m lucky to be here as we ride swiftly to the ER. Honestly I don't feel at all lucky. I go in and out of consciousness as we arrive at the Yale New Haven Hospital on 7th street. They take me into the hospital that I came in when I broke my arm falling off of a roof back in 2002. They hook me up to all kinds of needles and blood bags when they get me in a room. I feel something cold go through my body; I look up to see a pretty young lady hanging a bag of saline solution on what looks like a coat rack. The pain is starting to go away when I eventually drift off into a deep sleep.


It’s been 3 days since the incident. I feel the urge to get up and look for the person who has put me in here, but all I know about them is their eyes. I know that when I see those eyes I will know exactly who has put me through this pain and what I should do to them.


*three weeks later*
I sit in church thinking about how I questioned the thought of there not being another side when you pass over; which, reminded me about the pain in my side. The police have still not found the person who did this to me. I think I am going to try not to think about it anymore. After church I thought it would be good to get my mind off of the pain in my side so I went to this bar on the corner of 5th and 6th and saw something so shocking that I couldn't speak. There he was, the guy with piercing blue eyes just sitting there. I did the first thing I thought to do I grabbed a knife and plunged it deep into the side of his neck until I saw the life go out of his eyes. I felt pleasure for about 30 seconds then I realized what I had done. Everyone was running, screaming “murderer” but even though I had just killed a man, I still felt like I hadn't done anything wrong. I had to ask myself, did I become the person I was most afraid of?