Misconceptions

thinking about it - things like this always happen to me. i was walking down Highfield Street. this is one of those streets with the trees and the ground and the leaves and the baking smell and all
the other fake plastic suburban furnishings. i have no idea how i got there or how to get out. but i do know that walking with me was Nico.
i only know that is her name because she is wearing a namebadge. i have no memory of her. she has hair and a face and looks human enough. no snakes or colours or fire like all those other people; the dragons that i see sometimes. anyway - apparently she knows me.
she tells me how funny i am, but i havent said anything. she tells me how she has to be home by six because she isn't allowed out after dark. it's light time and the clock at the bus stop we just passed says it's ten to four in the afternoon.
she tells me how there is a lot of crime in the neighbourhood. she tells me how you can never know what could be around the corner. and then, after a few silent seconds, a long car comes cruising around the bend. it has loud noise coming from it's radio and all the windows are down. inside are young people with young clothes and smirks that screamed every angry young-person cliché at you. one of them in the back seat was reaching for something from his bag and
they slowed their speed as they drove past us. Nico was shivering with fear. she clung to my hand as tight as a small child does when crossing the road. she has sweat dripping from the tips of her ears and her breathing increased rapidly. she was scared of what they wanted and what he was reaching for, but sighed the biggest sigh of relief when they drove on past and the boy in the backseat revealed that he was only reaching for his lighter.
she looked to the sky as if to be secretly thanking a god. i was bemused. and then we both turned sharply back to the road when we heard the screech of the wheels. a white school minibus was hurtling around the bend in the road and was swirving all over the road. "The Highfield School for the Gifted" was printed on the side in black letters and there was a little picture of a happy child's face. at the wheel was an old lady. she had a faded yellow dress on that covered her whole body and it went well with her white puff of hair and thickly rimmed black glasses. the wrinkles in her sweet-looking face fitted her image of a lovely old woman. from her lap she pulled a large automatic rifle and slowed as she passed us. with one shot she had knocked Nico down to the ground and driven off at speed and with no direction in her wandering path.
Nico was lying dead and dying in the middle of the pavement. the lead bomb that was lodged inside her was causing blood, both thick and thin, to spray out from her and onto the concrete. i stood there still and an image of a carefree and secure Nico flashed before me. it was the still image of her just before she was killed.
and then i remembered that i had left the television on in my room and ran home to save on my electricity bill.