The Breaking Point / New York Ch 7

The loan shark isn't waiting anymore.
The papers never came.
Mateo knows what's going to happen.
That night, he leaves the restaurant and sees them.
Two men, standing in the shadows,
next to a parked car.
They don't bother hiding.
He hears them behind him.
Their footsteps, their breath.
Then the first punch.
A hit to his back.
Mateo falls. His face hits the asphalt.
He feels the blood slipping down his chin,
but he can't move.
The blows keep coming.
Quick, precise. No one screams.
It's a silent beating, methodical.
The pain mixes with confusion,
but Mateo can't think.
He can only feel. His legs, his back, his head.
Every part of him becomes heavy,
like he's shutting down, piece by piece.
When they stop, Mateo is still.
Someone sees him, calls an ambulance.
The paramedics arrive. They check him quickly.
One of them looks for his ID. Nothing.
They don't find anything.
They run a quick check.
Mateo doesn't exist anywhere.
He's not in the system.
They look at each other.
Then they close the ambulance doors and leave.
The lights fade.
ateo stays there, alone, the cold asphalt beneath him.
His body trembles. It's not just the cold.
There's nothing left to do.
He doesn't exist anymore.