I figured he would beat me up. That would make sense.
Bullying.
What else would it be?
But that wasn't what he meant at all.
With my arm twisted painfully behind my back, Darryl pulled my pulled my wallet out from my back pocket. He reached into my front pocket and took out my pen and my "New York" key chain in the shape of the Empire State Building. My dead dad gave it to me.
Then Darryl let me go.
"Come with me, or you get nothing back."
"Just give me the key chain," I insisted. It wasn't just that it was from my dad, but if I lost my key to our place, my aunt would go batshit on me. And I don't mean just yelling.
Darryl ignored me and started walking out of the alley.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath, and ran to catch up with him. If he wasn't a foot taller then my, I would have just tried to get it back.
"Why don't you just beat me now? Nobody's here."
It was a fair offer, I thought. It also didn't mean I wouldn't at least try to fight back.
But he kept ignoring me.
Before reaching the street, he turned into another alley running behind the tiny box-shaped homes.
That's when I realized that maybe he wanted to do something worse than just beat me up.
I turned to make a run for it, but it seemed like he was reading my mind. He grabbed my arm and dug his nails into the skin.
"You're not going anywhere."
I tried to kick at him, but he kicked me in the balls, still holding my arm so I couldn't fall to the ground.
I thought about biting him, but that's when he showed me a 5-inch long knife.
"You'd better stop it."
"Don't you smell me?" I gasped through the pain, hoping the idea of getting that close to me and my stink would make him rethink what I figured he had planned.
"You make me want to throw up," he told me, "but you're the one they want. Now start walking."
He gripped by upper arm with one hand, and held his knife with the other. He forced me down the deserted alley.
"Who are 'they?'"
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