Stories published in my book "Para vivir Seguros" 2.005
"Sir, can you give me something to eat?"
Joao Freites Da Silva turned around, surprised. It was six in the morning, and he was about to open his grocery store located in a marginal area. A young man in dirty clothes and a black cap was blocking his way, extending his hand.
"Give me something. I'm hungry..."
The tone was more urgent, almost threatening.
Freites, a little scared, took out a bill and handed it to the young man. He waited for him to leave and then removed the padlock from the rolling shutter. He turned on the lights, thinking angrily that the incident had felt almost like a toll payment.
The day went by normally. Later that night, as he was preparing to close the store and tally the day's earnings, Freites saw two young men walk in. They wandered among the grocery shelves. Through the mirrors placed at the end of each aisle, he kept an eye on them to make sure they didn't steal anything. He was so focused that he didn't notice a presence beside him.
"So, you have a lot of money in the register?"
The young man from the morning was there, wearing the same cap, with a strange smile on his face.
"What do you want now?"
"I want everything... and quickly."
The young man pressed the barrel of a huge Beretta 92F against Freites' chest. At that moment, the other two youths drew their weapons and held the customers and employees at gunpoint. They grabbed plastic bags and filled them with bottles of liquor, all the bills from the cash register, and the groceries that caught their eye.
Four minutes later, they left. Only the young man with the cap remained, aiming and covering his accomplices' retreat. He walked backward a few steps, still threatening with his gun. At that moment, Joao Freites, unable to contain his anger, shouted:
"Bastard, ungrateful son of a bitch!"
The young man stopped and advanced toward him.
"Oh, you're tough? Here, take this to learn your lesson..."
He raised the gun and fired several shots. Joao Freites, stunned by the explosions, the flashes, the screams, and the burning sensation in his chest, felt himself sliding off the stool and falling onto the granite floor. The young man aimed at him again and fired until the gun's slide locked back, empty. He turned around and walked away.
Joao Freites Da Silva, amidst bright and glowing spots, unable to understand what was happening to his bullet-ridden body, watched him disappear into the darkness.