The Irishman's Demise
"Get the hell outta here! No one wants ya anymore, like anyone would want an ugly shite like you!" yelled The Irishman in an angry manner, while standing with his no longer girlfriend of two weeks after school. Everyone suddenly turned their heads to see what all the commotion was about. The boy's name was actually James, but because of his Irish heritage, people called him "The Irishman". He liked how it sounded, so he kept it. James was 6' 1" tall, with dark brown short hair and a knack for getting in trouble. He always wore cheap looking clothes, and had a thick Irish accent. Some girls fell for him because of the accent, but he always used that to his advantage. He was both a user and an abuser.
"I thought you loved me! I thought we had something going, something special!" exclaimed the girl, who was now in tears. The girl then, with most of her strength, shoved James back a little harder than she originally wanted to. James then swiftly put his hand up and struck her in the face with his hand, fingers fully extended like a handshake about to happen. She stumbled a little and quickly fell to her knees, face covered in tears and a now visible reddish mark on her left cheek shown, and many people saw it all unfold in a matter of seconds.
Everyone, in the midst of all this, started to yell and swear profusely at The Irishman as he started to walk away, putting one foot in front of the other almost perfectly in a straight line. "Doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of this. It's their problem now, not mine. That girl was a good play, though." James said as he created an almost perfect macabre smile on his always pale white face. He started to walk home, listening to his iPod in the process. "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" by Charlie Daniels was playing as he crossed the street, having been almost 5 blocks away from reaching his house, when a car was driving down the hill towards James' direction. The volume on the iPod was cranked up on high, when in the distance you could hear the screeching of the brakes of the car, trying to stop at almost 45 miles per hour. Since James couldn't hear it, he wouldn't know what would be coming next.
"Screeeeeccccchhhhhh! Boom!" With such force, James' body hit the car and like a ragdoll, rolled right over the hood of the car and off the back of the trunk onto the blacktop of the street. The car finally stopped about 6 feet away from the impact zone. The car door slammed closed, and the driver and passenger came over to James. "Oh my god, what are we going to do? We hit a kid!" "It's alright! We'll call the ambulance and just stay with him until the paramedics arrive. We can't just run off now. We owe it to the kid to at least get proper medical attention for him…."
After about 45 minutes of waiting, the ambulance had finally arrived, including the police. The paramedics pulled out both a gurney and some long straps to tie James to the gurney for stability during the long ride back to the hospital. After the police had finished questioning the driver and passenger of the car, the ambulance and police left.