BARRON JONES - ROBBERY GONE WRIGHT

Barron Jones is a young, African-American story-teller and poet with a vision of healing the world through words. Struggling with multiple mental illnesses as a teenager and only being diagnosed right out of high school, Barron used his writing to cope and heal, resulting in dozens of breath-taking poems and fictional pieces on his portfolio that showcase multiple issues and encourages readers to choose the right road for themselves. Through his poetry and story-telling, he became connected with people all over the world with similar issues and hopes to heal them and show them that they are not alone in this ever-changing world.

Robbery Gone Wright
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Blood oozed out of the open doorway of the office before Bobby shoved the teller out while he pointed the handgun at him. He closed the office door and scowled at the teller whose employee badge showed 'James'.

“Sit down,” Bobby said, and he pointed the gun closer to urge James down to his knees.

Bobby bent down and picked up the green, Reef Knot rope next to the other tellers.

Across from him, Wright grabbed the wads of money out of the drawer and tossed them into the black duffle bag sitting on the counter.

He whistled before he said, “This is a lot of cash, man. We don’t need this much.”

“Take all of it,” Bobby said as he pulled the final knot tight for good measure. James whimpered from the pain and looked away from Bobby's smooth face.

Bobby turned around while Wright tossed cash into the black duffle bag on the desk. He tapped his feet and rolled his eyes as he pointed his handgun at the tied-up tellers on the floor.

"Come on dude," Bobby said. "We've got five more minutes before the cops show up and bust us!"

Wright looked over at Bobby with his not one, but two lazy eyes and said, "I'm almost done Bobby. I just want to make sure we got enough."

"Bro," Bobby said before he stepped over and whispered in his ear. "We won't have anything, but a mugshot and an inmate number if you don't hurry it up."

Wright sighed before he stopped counting the money and turned to his brother whose one eyebrow crept up from its original position.

"What are you doing," Bobby said.

Wright waved his hands in the air and said, "We shouldn't be doing this, man. We're taking money from a bank like this is some 1990s heist film."

"And the people in those movies always get caught, right," Bobby said before he grabbed the rest of the money and threw it into the bag below.

Wright once again shook his head and shoved his hands in his pocket before he said, "This isn't right. What are we going to tell Ma? That we got the money for her operation by robbing a high-profile bank?"

“No,” Bobby said before he zipped up the bag and stood with it over his shoulder. “We’re going to tell her the bank approved the loan we requested months ago. Now grab the other bag so we can get out of here.”

When Wright grabs the other duffle bag, his sneakers slipped in the blood that leaked from underneath the office door. He caught the handle and stopped himself from falling. He stared down at the blood that flowed out of the office.

“Stop messing around man,” Bobby said as he stepped closer out of the room.

Wright turned around and a tear fell down from his right eye, which made Bobby roll his eyes at him.

“Dude,” he said before he sighed. “What is wrong with you?!”

Wright’s face reddened before he sniffed and said, “We’re killers. You shot and killed that old guy for no reason! And guess what? I’m here with you robbing this bank so that makes me an accessory to the murder.”

“What’s your point,” Bobby said with a shrug of his shoulders and a hand on his hip. “We need the money and we got the money.”

Wright shook his head and stepped out of the room. As they pointed their handguns at the customers lied on the floor, Wright continued to leave the footprints all the way to the exit door.

As Bobby rushed into the alley, followed by a shaking Wright, they heard the faint sounds of sirens.

Only a minute later, they reached Bobby’s dark red mustang and he popped the trunk. They tossed the duffle bags inside and Wright closed the trunk. Bobby opened the driver's side door, but Wright stood behind the car with his hands over his face.

“We don’t have time for this shit,” Bobby said as his face reddened and the veins in his forehead popped out.

Wright shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t give a damn.”

“Get in the car,” Bobby said and pointed at his car. “Now!”

As his brother shook his head and stepped back from the car, he said, “No. I’m not going with you.”

“What the Hell is wrong with you,” Bobby said as he stepped up to Wright and stared down on him with his bulging eyes. “We have to get out of here right now! Ma needs us!”

Wright stepped back even further and said, “You can leave with that money. But I won’t. Ma’s taught us to always do the right thing, Bobby. So that’s what I’m doing.

“Are you out of your mind?” Bobby asked before he snickered to himself. “What am I saying? You’ve always been a dumbass like this. You lack common sense!"

Wright bit his lip and said, “Well, at least I’m a dumbass with a heart.”

“Fine,” Bobby said as he turned around and walked back to the driver’s door. “But don’t call me when your ass gets ten years for this.”

He closed the car door and crank up the engine. He looked in the rearview mirror and spotted his brother just standing there. He floored the gas and took off out of the alley and further from his brother.

As the police cars pulled up and the lights glowed into the alley, Wright put his hands up and got down on his knees.

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