Title: Running


It’s the last time. My last crime with these people. The money, the fame, the life style, the lies, the murder, the mob. Its all ending. One last exchange and I can finally walk away.

“James, do you remember the plan?” My father whispered.

“Dad I got it don’t worry!”

“Leave the duffle bag behind the magazine rack in the gift shop. Then get the hell out of there and board the plane. It’s that simple.”

“Isn’t this the 600th time we’ve gone over this?!”

“Just shut the f*** up and do it. Call me the second it’s taken care of.”

I’ve done these exchanges ever since I can remember. I put up a good front. He would never know that I’m practically shitting my pants right now. But why the hell was I so nervous?! This is like a second nature to me. Why is it getting to me? Maybe it’s because my father always told me that finales always go out with a bang. I was worried that this time, it would be my life.

You were never fully informed about these missions. All I really knew was that I was told to keep quiet and follow through. These “favors” I was doing, was only really helping my dad’s “business”. But boy was I naïve. Over the years, the dots started connecting themselves for me. It all made sense now. The big scary guards always appearing everywhere my dad went. The cash rubber bands that kept turning up in my garbage can. The slight white coding left behind on the coffee table after the guys have all gone home. It was wrong. It was secretive. It was illegal. It was cocaine trade offs.

I swallowed my thoughts the second I heard the town car taking me to the airport pull up in my driveway.

“Do as you were told and I promise you’re done.” My father softly spoke patting me on the back as I walked out the door.

The driver opened the glossy black Licoln town car and I went in.

“Gift shop. Duffel bag. Board plane. Done.”

“What was that you say boy??”

“ Ohh Uhh.. Nothing…”

I could start to hear my voice crack and my hands become clammy with every foot closer to the airport… the bumps in the road almost made me jump out of my seat because I couldn’t stop shaking. The anxiety was eating me alive. All I knew was that twenty minute car ride seemed like twenty years. Next thing I know, we’re here.

“Safe travels!” the driver yelled.

“Uh yea I hope…”

The second I walked into the lobby I starting pacing to the security check. Surprisingly that was the least of my worries because my dad has his ways of hiding the dope. He shoves it all in f'ing shampoo bottles.. Don’t ask. But that’s beside the point. With each additional step I took, more and more sweat dripped down my back. My rosy cheeks have now turned pale white. If you could see me right now, it’s almost as if I’m the one on crack.

“License and passport please?” the guard said.

“Yeah no problem.” I handed him my identification.

I just couldn’t stop f'ing shaking. I grabbed the papers as tight as I could to attempt to make it less noticeable. I handed him the duffel bag. They never really checked inside because of the x-ray machine. All he did was pat it down.

“Okay. You’re clear. Have a nice flight.”

Bingo. I’m in. The clock starts ticking. Onto the gift shop. I can see it only a few yards away. My heart is pounding. I can’t go in now. Too quiet. I want there to be distractions from security. I’ll wait. I sat down in the waiting area. The second I sit down of course it fills up with people. I nearly sprinted inside. When I stepped into the store the f'ng bag gets caught on the key chain rack and everything slams to the ground. Everyone looks up. I panic.

“Boy would you calm down and get ya self together?!”

“Sa-Sorry mam’ don’t wanna miss my flight…”


I wiped the sweat off my forehead and patted my hands on my pants. I looked up and couldn’t help but notice the cheap shitty lipstick smeared on her ghetto unshaved mustache. This b**** needed a makeover… but f*** that. Stay focused. Hang up the key chains, leave the bag, get the hell out of there. I look up.

At this moment the imaginable time bomb in my unconscious thoghts starting ticking faster and faster. She picked up my bag… No not hers. Not her cheap and flimsy piece of s***, but my bag. The bag filled with $36,000 worth of cocaine… I reached over to grab it but I tripped over my trembling legs. I pushed every dumb ass out of out of my way trying to catch up to her. Then I saw her. In her he gate, about to board the damn plane.. My eyes lit up. My heart pounds in my chest.

I start to run. Leaping over luggage. Diving over seats. Soaring on the carts. Everything seems so fast but all I can see is everything in slow motion. In the corner of my eye, I see an Air Marshall spot me. He notices my running. He feels my anxiety. He flashes his badge. He radios for back up. They’re onto me. I’m onto my bag. She’s onto her flight.

I’m close to her now. They’re closer to me. They think I’m an invader. I’m starting to think the same thing. I turn around. They look in my now blood shot eyes. They see the bag in the distance. They know I’m after it. The girl spots me. She squeezes her bag tight trying to protect herself in any way possible. But the white powder puffs right through the zipper gaps. The shampoo bottles sucked. The sprinting by the guards easily gains speed. I heard their guns c*** back. But who are they aiming for anymore?! Me or her?! Who’s the culprit?!

“”GET THE F*** DOWN!! HANDS IN THE AIR!! GET DOWN NOW!!” they screamed.

I reached her now. The bullets fired. The crowd screams. Everything stops. Time stopped.