The streets make me tough
Gilbert Shawn was walking along the old streets, minding his own business when two bullies grabbed him on the arm and strapped him to the wall. One of them pulled out an old wrinkly photograph from his pocket, while another ransacked his bag.
“Crushing on the billonaire, huh? Let me guess, you sleep with his picture at night? His empire turns you *n and you want it!” A ragged boy howled at, shoving the photograph of the old man at his face while squ**zing the guy’s throat. 16 year old Gilbert eyes teared. His body was in pain and he could barely breathe. This wasn’t what he expected that afternoon. Not after walking under the scourching hot sun. His body was weak. But he couldn’t give up. He just can’t. With his hands clenched, and his teeth grinding, he furrowed his brows.
“How dare you?!” Gilbert’s hands yanked him down to the floor. The boy gazed at him in shock. His fear was gone, and all he felt was rage. “Repeat what you said about my grandfather!”
His bully was confused and speechless. This was odd and he never thought Gilbert could be so brave. Judging him from a distance, he saw a weakling. A depressed weakling roaming around aimlessly with his head to the ground. He wanted to beat him to the pulp and steal all he had. Why was the weak target scaring him now? Just because of a photograph? There was no way the wealthy Luther was that pauper’s grandfather anyway. The backed away with shaky breathing feeling helpless to the situation.
“I was just joking dude, chill!” He defended himself. “I didn’t know he is your grandfather.”
“I asked you to repeat what you said!” Gilbert roared at him, landing a massive punch on his face. His anger got out of hand, and he couldn’t control himself anymore. He punched him again and again and again, sweat dripping down his forehead as his hands ached.
“Stop!” The other bully hurried in, pulling him off his friend.
“Let go of me!” Gilbert yanked himself from the second bully’s firm grip, pushing him against the wall. He wasn’t done yet. He was enraged by the bully’s loose tongue, and he would never forgive him for what he said.
Unknown to him, the bully already had his eyes on a weapon beside them. A stone. Just as Gilbert launched at him with reddened eyes, he knocked it hard against his head causing the Gilbert to bleed profusely. Gilbert’s eyes widened in shock. His hand on his head in astonishment as red liquid flowed down his face like tap. His whole face turned red as his vision got blurry.
“Come on, let’s go!” The second bully helped the first off the floor. The first winched and stood before grasping Gilbert’s luggage. A cold look was on his face as he frowned angrily. Taking one last look at Gilbert’s grandfather picture, he slipped it into his pocket. graph lying carelessly on the floor.
“Stop! Give that back!” Gilbert straggered towards them, feeling his body fail him slowly. “Hey!”
They mocked him with a sly smile and hurried out, fleeing behind shops!
Gilbert’s heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he hurried behind them.
“Can you not hear me?! Give me back my grandfather’s picture right now! Wait up!” Gilbert yelled. Walking became strenuous just as a serious concussion overthrew his brain. People screamed in shock, puzzled by what was going on. They stauntared to help him, sitting him carefully on the bench. His eyes rolled back into his head, his body slowly cold. He saw the white light,... the beautiful white lights.
“Call the ambulance!” Someone yelled as others gathered. “Call them now! This kid is dying!”
“Grandfather...,” he said with a smile, the figure of the wrinkling old man appeared before him. A friendly smile on the poor man’s lips. “I miss you, grandfather. I wish I saved you that day.”
