Man Down

THUMP,
THUMP

Cindy’s
heart raced as the erratic pounding against her front door went on.

THUMP,
THUMP, THUMP
, accompanied by
loud wails for help. Cindy clutched her ears tightly as she attempted to halt
the sounds coming from behind her house door. However, it was no use, as they kept shrieking and hammering, each new THUMP, THUMP, THUMP
making Cindy cringe as she attempted to ignore them.

Abruptly
the thumping against her door paused, relief surging through Cindy as she
released the grip on her ears, merely to clutch them again as the screeching
began once more, sounding terrified. No longer able to control her curiosity,
Cindy walked towards her window, cracking open her curtains and peeping out
towards Watterson Street.

Her
eyes scanning through the suburb, noting all the everyday sights as she moved
along, Mr. Darcy’s red mustang, the new Uris couple’s rose bush, and of course
Meredith’s bright pink fence. The street was empty.

Suddenly
the screams became louder, coming closer and closer, a figure entering Cindy’s
view. It was a young man, eyes wide with terror, mouth open, gaping, emitting
the torturous shrieks Cindy had been hearing, blood trickling down his ebony
face as he ran through Watterson Street. A loud BANG resonated through the air
and suddenly the man was on the floor, bleeding.

Horrified,
Cindy continued watching as more figures appeared, carrying guns and dressed from head to toe in
oversized white cloths. They circled him, laughing as he
attempted to crawl away. Loud and booming laughter ringing through the air, Cindy was sure that
the entire neighborhood could hear them, but as she looked at each of the
houses, she realized that she was the only one witnessing their acts.

The
clothed people began striking the man, beating him with wherever possible, butting him with end of their guns, laughing
as they did so. Cindy wanted to look away, to shield her eyes from their cruelty
but as she sat up to leave, she noticed that the ebony man had seen her, his
eyes capturing her, leaving her paralyzed, unable to move, pleading with her to
not leave him alone. So she sat down and watched as they mauled him. Punching
and kicking every surface of his skin, while he lay there, screaming and crying but always keeping her in his sights.

Their
assault continued until blood collected around them, surrounding each of their
feet and soaking into the underside of their white fabric. Cindy watched as one
of the figures grasped around in their cloth, hand coming out to display a bottle
and a firelighter. Splashing the liquid
all over the ebony man’s battered frame. The figure holding the lighter and
flicking it on, sprouting a small flame which gleamed and wiggled before it was
thrown at the ebony man.

A
deafening scream emanated from him as he withered in agony, struggling
to escape the heat of the fire. The figures howled with joy as the man burned,
cheering and laughing.

And
Cindy watched, watching as the man burned and the figures cheered. Continuing
to watch even as the man died and the figures left. Watching as the flames
disappeared and the morning sun rose only coming out of her stupor as the first
shriek of the morning made its way to her ears.

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