“Ouch!”, I cried.
I felt a stabbing pain on my ribs. I quickly opened my eyes to the image of the dark alley. I saw Pete standing right in front of me. What an asshole! I don’t blame people who look the other way but I really hate this sadistic bastard who simply enjoys bothering us.
“Get up! We don’t want any trash on the streets today”, Pete said, arrogantly.
I complied with the order, looking down without producing even the faintest of sound. Any sound or look would always make it worse. He would hit me with the tip of his baton. How hard he hit depended on how bad he felt about himself any given day. It was curious that I felt the strongest, the harder he hit. Each strike would beat his soul beyond any pain I could feel.