Chapter 6

I forced my mouth to open, "I'm homeless." They weren't any other answers than to tell them the truth. "Is that right?" he asked rhetorically. I could hear the slight amusement in his voice, and it made me tremble. Was he planning on raping me? I quickly nod. "Did you see anything just now?" he asked, looking back at the dead body that laid only meters away. He knew I saw, why else would I have screamed. I quickly shook my head, "No. I saw nothing. I was sleeping, and I heard the gunshot. I didn't see anything I swear." He nodded, "Well too bad. I still have to kill you." he looked down at the gun in his hands and admired it. I shook my head and clasped my hands, "Please no. I'm begging you. Please don't kill baby and me." "Baby?" he asked with a frown. I nod and move the blanket off my body, showing my seven-month belly. "Please. I'm begging you, please don't kill me. I won't tell anyone, I swear; I won't. As a matter of fact, I'll leave New York tonight please don't kill me." My eyes were burning, and my chest felt heavy as if it were filled with stones. I could no longer see clearly. All I know and could think about was my baby, protecting her. My mother. How would she react if she found out I was dead? It would kill her as much as it killed me every day thinking about what she did. "How old are you?" he asked, still looking down at his gun. My throat started to tighten as I answered honestly, "Eighteen." In my head, I was saying, 'I'm too young to die' but am I? People die at birth, some persons don't make it past 10, and I'm 18, technically an adult. Am I too young to die? Weren't the others too young to die also? "Why are you sleeping in a children's park?" "My mother kicked me out because I got pregnant." "Then, no one will miss you when I kill you." I shivered as his words; my heart was beating so fast that I could hear and feel every single beat. He lifted his gun and pointed it straight at my head as he did with the man in the hoody. It seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. I started to whimper. "Please.." I begged with my eyes closed. But it was no use; he pushed the hammer down. Before he could pull the trigger, one of the other men spoke. "She's just a child, and she's pregnant." he sighed. "If Don Giovanni hears about this, he will not be pleased. We don't kill women and children." I heard a chuckle coming from the one with the gun, "That's because the Don is a romantic fool. She saw me kill him. She will go to cops. She's a witness. She deserves to die." "And one day she will, but it's not going to be today and not by our hands. She's homeless and pregnant. She's already suffered enough." "Gobi is right. Let's take her bags but don't kill her. We can't afford to have the Don beating us up on two things tonight." I recognised the voice as the short man. The man with the gun chuckled, "Lift your head and look at me when I talk," I immediately obeyed the order of the cruel man. "You're one lucky girl. If it were up to me, you'd be dead already." he turned and looked at the dead man laying on the ground, "Don't come back here. This park is ours at night. If I see you here again. I will kill you." he walked away without looking back. I watched as the short man grabbed my bag and placed it over his shoulder and started walking behind his partner. The blond gave me one last look before walking off with the other two. When they were completely out of my sight, I fell on the grass and poured out relieve in a flood of uncontrollable tears. It was realising that I was still very close to the dead man. I stood up quickly from the cardboard and ran as fast as I could without looking back. As I ran further and further away from the park, I couldn't help thinking about the number of ways my story could have ended. I couldn't stop the tears from falling as I walked on the cold streets of New York. I got a few looks from the persons passing by, but no one cared to stop and ask the pregnant teen why she was crying. I didn't know where to go, and I was too afraid to go to another park. What if the same thing happened but with different results. I couldn't risk it, so I continued walking in random directions, taking unexpected turns. After walking for over an hour, I stopped and looked down on my sore feet. I had to find somewhere to sleep. I looked around me trying to find out where exactly I was then I stop the sign going right. Main Street North I suddenly remembered my conversation with Mr Dakoda this morning. He lived on Main Street. I rubbed my hands at my temples and tried to remember the exact number he told me, but I couldn't remember. I whimper then cross the street and start walking on the road, hoping and praying that I was going in the right direction. The road was still busy, and cars were passing every minute. It wasn't too late, yet I couldn't get fear out of my mind. I kept replaying the incident over and over in my mind, and I couldn't stop the tears or the heavy breathing. Neither of them was good because it was causing me an immense amount of stress and anxiety. But tears were as dangerous as walking for hours, not knowing exactly where you're going.