Mistaken Identity

Bryan 1 Jim Bryan Mrs. Malaspino English 9—Period 6 11 December 2008 Mistaken Identity I lay on my back in a completely dark room while a single over hanging light swung back and forth above me. The light took its last swing and swiveled slightly, and then with a loud creak hung still as if dead. The shine from the light stayed fixed on me, making me the only visible being in that room. You might think that being so focused on this light was somewhat foolish or even just plain stupid but it was the only thing that could distract me from the smell of blood that constricted my nose. I couldn’t feel my body—it was completely numb yet I could still move. I raised my hand off the ground and a thick dark red liquid oozed from finger to finger, completely covering each digit before it dripped to the ground. My vision was fading and my mouth was dry. I closed my eyes and let the breeze from the open door behind me ruffle my hair as I accepted the simple fact that I was dying. This evening had started like any other. I was walking home from the library with one of my friends, Alex. “This weekend my family and I are leaving for Oregon to go camping,” she told me very quietly. Her tone of voice sounded slightly guilty. Alex knew that my family and I could never go camping. We couldn’t even afford to go to the movies. “Hey!” I replied. “You said you were going to the school football game tonight!” I felt disappointed that she would not be joining me.

Bryan 2 “Guess not, sorry Travis but I just can’t make it,” Alex apologized as we continued walking. She looked pained. “You’ll have to find someone else to go with, or maybe just go by yourself.” “Alex, you know I can’t go to the game by myself!” I was upset. “It will be stupid arriving alone and there won’t be anyone to hear my comments. Who else will help me make fun of all the geeks we see?” I dropped my head and let my hair tumble forward over my eyes. I didn’t want Alex to see how bummed I was that she wasn’t going with me. It wasn’t just the fun comments and teasing things we said to each other. Alex was the only friend who knew of my family’s money dilemma yet never brought it up or made me feel uncomfortable about it. I could confide in her with my private worries, and she never betrayed my trust. With a roll of her Alex’s eyes the conversation stopped. We walked another five minutes in silence, until Alex turned right onto Feather Falls Drive toward her house while I continued walking along Main Street. Just before Alex disappeared around the corner she turned to me and yelled, “Hope you manage to have fun at the game tonight!” and with a slight smile and wave she was gone. At the time I didn’t know that I would never see Alex again; however now as I focused on the light hanging above me in this deserted room I wasn’t thinking of Alex. I was thinking of the events that took place right before my attempted rescue of two strangers--the rescue that led me to this terrible place. After Alex and I had parted, I continued down the street with the wind growing more brisk with every step. My black cotton jacket billowed out behind me, flapping rhythmically and matching the movement of the laundry hanging out to dry in the yards of the homes I passed. I was wearing blue jeans which were faded and frayed with age. My Jansport backpack, the same one I had used since middle school was slung over my shoulder and underneath my jacket I wore

Bryan 3 an ocean blue t-shirt two sizes too big. On my feet was a pair of worn shoes that were made quite serviceable with a few strips of duct tape. As you could guess, my father was not named Bill Gates. It seemed that my family was always short of money and my dad was constantly looking for a steady job, but he only found temporary labor positions that never quite paid enough to keep the stress of financial troubles out of our house. My mom never seemed to smile much these days. Sometimes at night I’d hear her arguing with my father, and the arguments always ended with her crying. I would think of various schemes that could help earn some money but each of them seemed more hopeless and desperate than the next. Nothing ever came of them. My thoughts began to wander as I thought of the upcoming weekend which freed me from harassing school work. A shrill scream broke my concentration. There was no one around, yet I noticed something very odd. I was approaching the local Stop ‘n Shop 24 hour convenience store and the lights were turned off. I ran toward the window and looked inside. “Not a soul,” I muttered to myself. I glanced at my watch and it was only five thirty. Puzzled, I stared at the sign that said “24/7” on the door. I started to walk away when another scream pierced the air. It came from inside the store. I froze as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My ears strained to hear the slightest sound. I peered through the window again and saw movement in the back of the store and then heard a muffled thud from somewhere inside the dark interior. I knew something was very wrong, yet I was frightened to go inside. I heard the back door of the Stop ‘n Shop creak open, then slam shut. I reached for the handle of the front door but then stopped as I once again squinted through the windows to look for movement inside, but there was none. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Bryan 4 I ducked down behind one of the shelves that were stacked with potato chips and snack foods and crawled toward the back door. The door was slightly ajar and as I pushed it open it led to a small office where I could see the store owner and the clerk bound and blindfolded. “Shit! What happened?” I yelled as I ran over and began to untie them. The first man I untied was short and chubby. He had a bald head, was unshaven, and he smelled of cigarettes and garlic. He was sweaty and looked frantic as he flew out of the back office toward the front of the store. As the man scrambled out of sight he screamed, “Get out, get out!” but there was one more person I needed to help. Turning toward the other man I saw a sharp knife on a nearby desk. It looked strangely familiar. The knife reminded me of one my grandpa had given to my father. I didn’t give it another thought, yet I wish I had. Grabbing the knife from the desk I managed to cut the rope securing the man’s hands. He pulled the scarf away from his eyes, and frantically dashed out of the back room to the front of the store, leaving me alone. I felt relieved yet a bit miffed at being so unappreciated. I sat down on the floor as I tried to slow down my racing heart, and after I had calmed down I slowly stood up and walked out of the back office into the alley that ran behind the store. I felt the cool breeze once again and it dried the sweat on my tense face. I savored the fresh feeling as I closed my eyes and turned my face toward the evening sky. It was time to get home. I pulled my hood over my head –suddenly a hand pulled me back into the office that adjoined the store. I staggered backwards from the fierce pull and landed hard on the ground as a searing pain stabbed through my shoulder. I let out a shrill yelp and tried to scramble to my feet but I was disoriented and confused. The pain in my shoulder was intense and was spreading through my body making me feel dizzy and weak. I rolled over and reached for my shoulder, and that is when I found the reason for the hideous pain consuming

Bryan 5 me. The knife which I had used to cut the ropes binding the clerk was protruding from the back of my left shoulder and blood was pulsing out of the wound. I yanked the knife out of my shoulder and through my pain and shock I recognized the initials carved into the leather handle —my grandfather’s initials. As I clenched the knife in my trembling hand I saw the blood trickle from my fingers and drip on the floor. I fixated on the overhead light that slowly swung back and forth over my head as though it was a beacon pulling me away from my suffering. Two masked and hooded figures swam into my consciousness. They stared down at me as my vision blurred and the world started to spin. I could see their eyes widen in shock and horror behind the masks as they peered down at me. The taller of the two figures staggered backwards and began to gasp and moan garbled sounds as he buried his head in his hands. The smaller cloaked thief began to scream and sob as she dropped to her knees beside me. The last words I heard as the life left my body were her anguished cry of, “My son! My son! Oh God, my baby!”