another creative writing asignment (flash-fiction)

The Scene

            There were
several police cars surrounding the ally, tape blocked of the surrounding area.
On the out side of the tape, a large crowd had gathered. Red and blue light
revealed the front-most faces; the butcher, the preacher, the rabbi, several newscasters
and their cronies, the mayor,  and the
ice-cream truck driver were a few of the familiar faces. Other faces in the
crowd appeared as nothing but black blobs through the night’s vale. One
newscaster and a camera man were being pushed out of the taped area by two
cops, and another was eavesdropping on another cop talking to a weeping woman
as the four moved by. There was a boy in her arms, crying non-stop as his
mother tried to comfort him, weeping as much as he. The boulevard was a scene
to be seen, with red and blue flashing everywhere with a hint of yellow tape
affixed with metal gates and patrols to keep the crowd back. About three
detectives stood in the middle of the street talking to their sergeant about
what had happened in the ally.  Two paramedics
were smoking cigarettes behind their truck, which was backed up to the right
side of the ally entrance, waiting to collect their bodies. Almost like
undertakers of the old west, they stared on into the ally, waiting.

            Beyond the
ally entrance laid a gruesome scene, that which could make the faint of heart
turn with disgust. Blood spattered the walls more than the graffiti and other
such markings, the shine of which was fading as it dried. On the cemented
ground were scattered bullet casings which littered the ally more than the
trash overflowing from the dumpsters. Three cops were throughout the ally
kneeled down counting the shells from a discarded AK-47, which was in the
dumpster hidden away. A detective took notes standing towards the entrance, but
keeping his distance away from those paramedics. He stood there, leaning
against the wall, writing away on his little pad. A cigarette hung from the
corner of his mouth, the smoke lifted in a small, but visible, stream through
the dark night, rising to the heavens. His face was lit by the red glow from
his cigarette revealing a menacing scar that ran down the right side of his
face. It started just above his right eye and ran straight down and ended
beside his chin. He had a smirk on his face that said that he was satisfied at
what he was dealing with.

            Farther
down the ally, there was a bag which had needles, bags of heroin and crack,
rubber straps, and other items poured out as lay on its side. Then next to the
bag of a junkie’s buffet was a man. The man’s body was well dressed as he sat
up against the dumpster with the bag inches away from his left hand and a large
silver pistol next to his right. He was the governor. It was a sad end for him,
since his corpse would be receiving most of the attention, while the other four
bodies would be over looked. His head hung over as a lamp from up above allowed
his face to be blacked out, to hide the look of shame that his face had.

            As one of
the eager paramedics moved a stretcher with the first body bag upon it into the
ambulance, I turned to leave. I did what I had been paid to do, there was
nothing left for me to do but collect my money from the client.