Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24303740-20140605172803

The Man on the Side of the Road.

It was late, 2 am. John Burgess, who worked for a multimillion dollar company which made cell phones was working late coming up with a new sales pitch. It was a cold rainy November night. As he was leaving work on his way out, a homeless man asked him, "Please sir, I am starving. If you could spare some change?" John only sneered at him. He knew the man would likely use his hard earned cash on booze or worse drugs. The man asked John again, "Please sir, I haven't eaten in days." Annoyed from working so late and irritated at what John thought was an obvious lie said "Fuck off you drunken bum." He got in his car and splashed the man with water from a deep puddle. He had almost hit him, but John was sure he hadn't so he kept going and thought, "Serves him right." As he went about a half a mile from home down another road, he turned onto a road surrounded by woods outside the city. He saw the same homeless man. He was almost certain it was the same one, there could be no mistake. The bum stepped out into the road and John ran him over. John thought I can't go back or stop in these situations. It's best to keep going. Less suspicious, less chance of leaving evidence. Besides, he was a nobody, not daring to stop or think about it further nor look back, he got out of there as fast as he could and raced is way home.

If he had stopped, he thought he would have to deal with it if the man was alive and all the questions the law enforcement would ask being such a jerk to him already the bum would likely blame him. "He did it on purpose!" the bum would say. Curiously, though rationally he thought "There's no way it was the same one." It had to be the shock of him being there out in the middle of the road. He came out of nowhere and just being particularly cruel to that other homeless man, his guilty mind must have been playing tricks on him. Yes, that would be it. How could he have gotten that far down the road so quickly anyway before John had gotten there and him being in a car it didn't make sense. So he just shrugged it off and went home and went to bed. The next day on his way into work, he saw the same bum. Now he was relieved, it wasn't the same one he ran over last night it couldn't be. Now he knew it had to be all in his head. Still, feeling guilty, but not wanting to be too generous, he plopped a single penny in his cup and moved towards the door. "Thank you," the bum said. "Jerk ...."

“What did you say to me?” John said, startled and looked at the man. The bum, bemused and confused simply said, “I said god bless you sir.” “Oh,” John said “Good day.” Had his mind been playing tricks on him again? That was not to say, that after what happened last night he didn't expect the bum to be that kind to him. He had it coming after all. Throughout the day, his mind was reeling about the man he had ran over though. Thinking, “I should have gone back, what an idiot, I am!” But, he had heard nothing about it and didn't see the body on the road on his way to work. Perhaps, the man was fine and there was nothing in the papers, or on the news, no police reports. So he felt it was no sense in worrying himself over a dumb bum. People probably didn't know he even existed. He left his office late again, that night. The same man asked him again for change. “Please sir, can't you spare me more than a measly penny? You work for a great company!” and John lied and said, “I don't have any more. I don't carry much money on me, and I'm sorry, I cussed you out the other night.” The man’s expression changed, he glared at him and said, “You liar! You son of bitch!!! You’re not sorry, you don't care about no one but, yer self!!! You bastard!!! You will burn in hell, liar!!! So you just, keep it up! You just keep, it up!!! With your ways… The dark ones, the avenging ones, they’ll come. They’ll come for you, you selfish sack of shit fer brains!!!” He pulled out a knife, John drew back in fear, and threw all the cash he had on him at the bum and said, “Here take it!!! T-take it all!! Whatever you want, just please, don't hurt me…” “Like, how you hurt Leroy McAlester?” John looked at him shocked and confused. The man’s face spread in to a wide wicked smile. “Oh???? Didn't know, you that he had a name did ya??? Did ya!!!” he said jabbing the knife at him, punctuating each “did ya?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about… sir?” John explained, “No, you don't know nutin, does ya?” The man said, John thought for a moment about the bum he had run over, is that who he meant? If so how in the hell would he know about that it happened miles away? “Please, I don't know what you’re talking about, please I gave you all my money… Now please, don't hurt me…” “Oh sonny, it’s not me you should be worried about hurting ya. It’s the dark ones, the avenging ones…. They'll get ya, that's for true….” He got in his car and drove home as fast as he could. “Was he just mugged?” He thought, he put it out of his mind. Then once again in a blinking he had hit someone. This time, concerned about the bums warnings he stopped and got out. There on the ground was the same dead homeless man on the side of the road, the one he had just spoken too, and the one he had hit last night. He knew it now it was the same man, he looked on the inside of his coat. On the tag to his horror he read, property of Leroy McAlester… He shivered, lighting struck and it began to pour. He backed away from the dead life less bum shaking… “Oh God what have I done!!!!” He cried, then a voice spoke, it was the voice of the dead bum. “God????”

He said, “You believe in God? That's really funny cause, he don't believe in you!!! Look where you are!!!” The scenery around him changed, he was back on the street near his office. He hadn't hit the bum farther down the road, instead of simply splashing him with water that night. Because of his blind rage, or because he simply wasn’t paying attention, or didn’t care, he had ran that poor bum down in cold blood after cussing him out and not giving him a single cent… He knew it now, the realization of his actions hit him like a searing lightning bolt of agony. The dead bum got up his eyes blacker then anything, as though he were staring into the abyss its self… He spoke again, his voice low now hollow and empty, like how John felt inside in the pit of his soul… “You will burn in hell, for your crimes John Burgess, Burn in hell, John Burgessssss…” It turned into a hiss and the dead bum began to rot, and change into something slithery and shadow like, whatever it was the bum was gone what remained was inhuman. It closed in on him, its shadow like tentacles griped at his neck and choked him!!! He woke up screaming. He was still in his office, had he fallen asleep at the desk? He walked outside, there was the bum, the same bum from the dream…. The bum spoke up and said, “Please sir, I am starving. If you could spare some change?” 