Jumping down from the window sill the kids said hello to the old, black-velvet night. It was a familiar one, like the ones from early childhood, from fifty years ago, from ten thousand million years ago. It was a dark night. Black velvet. Wind coursing through tree tops and making twigs skitter across the ground. It was too familiar for them to be able to appreciate it, and the underlying danger entirely escaped their notice. But the danger was there anyway, absorbed into the air and the tree trunks and floating back and forth as they expelled a breath and then sucked it right back in.
They jumped from the window sill and landed on the old sand-paper sidewalk. It was a familiar feeling sidewalk, like from all the times they smacked to the ground off bikes and scooters and felt the grit embed itself into their palms. It was the same rough dust and uneven tiles as always, forever-- grandfathers, fathers, cousins, nieces touched it and came away with the same imprint on their palm. This sidewalk was too familiar, and so they didn’t even notice the blood on it. They stood up, brushed off their hands, and didn’t even notice the wet. It was such a boring old night.
They ran down the sidewalk and one of them said, “No, no, no.”
“What?” said another one.
“Well..” the first one said again. But he was cut off. The danger had smacked him out and just the blood ran from his nose and into his mouth. Then he lay down on the sand-paper sidewalk and let the night eat him up.
“What?” the other kid repeated. But he kept running and the others did too. It was such a normal windy night that the air could bleed and tongues wouldn’t taste it. The sound of the rubber sneakers on the cement was the slapping it always was and everyone’s mind was crammed full of familiarities that the sound brought. They all sang to themselves as they ran along.
Presently the group came to a chain link fence which surrounded a playground way out on the eastern end of town. Millions of hinges creaked along the fence as all the pieces of rusty metal all swung together and out. The kids saw the fence and saw a million fences before it. They each took their time latching onto its holds and hoisting themselves over the top, singing their song and forgetting their scratched and burning hands. The blood from their hands wouldn’t stop coming and they tumbled over the tops of the fence backwards, head first, uncontrollable. But they didn’t yell and they let themselves hit the floor.
The ones who got up, got up.
They kept on running. The wolves ate them and the possums bit them. The raccoons came and circled around them looking for things they didn’t even have. The danger everywhere came and presented itself to the kids, but the kids were focused on the tape in their minds and the world spun on without their knowing it. The ones who survived, survived.
Or, anyway, the one...
A really snappy little fighter. A blank jaded mind.
This one kid kept running alone, after the others fell, and let the fiery, nauseous feeling of intense running fill him up. He ran out of the playground and over the golf course and under the freeway bridge and through the open-sewer river, with one hand on his splitting and smacking heart. It was all a movie reel in his head, all of it, and the screams of the dead and the eeriness of the moon did nothing to him.
He waded, tripping, spitting, through the open sewer river. And eventually he reached the other bank, heaving himself up onto the concrete with his palms, imprinted with grit from his parents, his grandparents, his nieces, yeah, all of them. He heaved himself up and kneeled on the opposite bank and let the new world drop into him. He was a little plastic cup, and into him the world poured water. New and ice cold.
On the other side of the border he coughed up water. He was still bleeding, but he felt the pain now. In a new town he stood up.
more detail into what is actually going on would be great, You don't have to tell exactly what it is, but more detail into what actually is happening.
I actually think this is written very well. For me, the problem is clarification. No, not even. I don't think you need to explain to us very clearly what's going on; that's the beauty of description and analogies. But here your hidden meaning is a bit too hidden. You have lovely phrases and interesting images, but it doesn't really mesh together into one cohesive theme. I feel like I should come away from this with a stronger, single idea, or lesson, but I don't really. Instead I come away thinking, "Well, that was an interesting story, I wonder if it's supposed to mean something?" Ambiguity is good, absolutely, but I just wish that you had even one strong underlying message. I didn't get it.