A cold trill crept up my spine as I slowly turned towards the disembodied voice. My hands trembling as they rose to my head. The world slowed as I gathered the strength to stop the shaking just long enough to whimper, "I don't want any trouble." I raised my face to confront my attacker, near petrified in my skin; there was nothing there. I could've sworn there was something behind me. My heart pounded.
Utter darkness.
Silence.
Complete absence of light, sound, and joy.
I wasn't afraid. I wasn't happy. I was just alive, but at the same time, I wasn't.
It was awful.
I woke up enveloped by a crowd of people surrounding me. I was still petrified, the sea of concerned faces. A single silhouette emerged from the crowd. There was a warmth to the man, he hushed the murmurs and barked at the gawkers, "Give the kid some space!" He helped me over to a bench where I could finally see his face, Lamar.
He sat me down and berated me with questions. "What happened? Are you hurt? Why were you alone so late?"
"I'm fine," I assured him, "I just blacked out." His concern was comforting. Lamar answered the call the night my mother died. A heart attack, in her sleep. Lamar had sat there with me, in complete silence, for hours. From that day on, he had always checked in on me. If there was anyone I'd want to pester me like that, it'd be him. "I um... uh.. I don't know what happened. I was walking home and I heard something behind me. Somebody, some thing told me to freeze. I turned around and there was nothing there. I was scared. I am scared."
"I'll drive you home. You should get some rest." We go into Lamar's coup, he paused and with the most sincere look in his eyes, "I've got your back kid." He cranked up his stereo. MC Hammer, "U Can't Touch This." For a moment, it felt like nobody could.
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