Categories > Celebrities > AFI > One False Move.

Something Strong

by A-Fire-Inside12_21 1 review

Category: AFI - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2011-09-27 - Updated: 2011-09-27 - 1080 words

Chapter 4
Something Strong
I stayed at Jessica's place for the next few weeks. I would try and be strong in front of her, but then breakdown when I was alone. Jessica could tell that leaving the band was tearing me a part but I wouldn't let her in, I wouldn't let her share the pain I was feeling.

I was trying to be strong for Jessica, but sometimes I let my facade slip and she would see my heart. As if it had been gorged out with a blunt knife, and no one had bothered to stitch it back together. On the very rare occasions that this happened, I would go for a walk, to just clear my head and try and sort out what I was going to do with my life. While I was on one of these “Figure out what to do with my life and not fuck it up again” walks, I came across the pub that Jessica worked at. Seeing as she was back at her house, I thought I could have a quick drink, to numb my senses for a while.

I climbed the steps to the front door and push it open. Luckily, as I opened the door, a big group of men cheered at some unknown accomplishment and nobody noticed me enter.

“What would ya like?” asked the bartender, as I sat down on one of the stools facing the bar.

“Something strong.” I told him.

“Tough day, eh?” asked the bartender as he placed a 'Sliver Bullet' down in front of me, a mixture of vodka and tonic.

“More like a fucked up life.” I said to him, drowning the vodka and tonic mixture in one go. Shit, it was strong! I started to cough and splutter as the drink ran down my esophagus.

“Seems like you've never had anything stronger than a Sarsaparilla.” chuckled the barman, as he went off to serve other customers.

Around an hour later, I was surrounded by at least 25 empty glass which used to contain 'Silver Bullet'. I was about to get up and leave the pub, wanting to desperately get back to Jessica and slightly worried that I might become subject to alcohol poisoning. When one of the men that I saw earlier yelled,

“Where'd you get your nail polish from? Borrowed it from your girlfriend have you?”

I was going to ignore this remark, because the man was clearly pissed. I started walking towards the exit door when another man from the same group yelled,

“Guys, guys I don't think he has a girlfriend, what kinda of slut would want to go out with a little prick like that? He's probably a third-leg kinda guy anyways, if you know what I mean.”

This remark was just enough to tip me over the edge, being completely pissed and with my mind not being in the right place, I ambled over to the pool table that these bastards were standing at.

“You got a problem?” I asked the guy that shouted out to me first.

“Yeah, I've got a problem, a problem with puny, little, GAY guys like YOU!” he yelled in my face. He then tried to take a swing at me, but being as drunk as he was, I was able to duck and miss his massive arm.

As I stood up and headed for the exit door yet again, another one of these bastards shouted, “Aw, don't leave yet princess, we just want to play.”

“Okay” I thought to myself, “lets play.”

I turned back around and stormed up to the pool table, found the guy that last shouted at me and yelled, “What the FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!” then, being pissed and really annoyed I punched him in the face. The feeling of fist connecting with face was somehow exhilarating. I heard the crack of bone and felt his jaw move too far over to the right. From the sound of it, I must have broken his jaw. While the guy covered his mouth with his hands and howled in pain, the rest of them advanced on me. I knew I had gone too far, but that didn't stop me from trying to put up a fight. 5 massive guys onto me didn't sound far, nor did it feel far.

I got hit left, right and center. I was kicked, punched, my hair almost being pulled out of my skull. I flung my arms and legs around connecting with some of the bastards bodies.

“The little shit got my gut! Get him. Make him wish he had never been born.” one of the more robust men shouted to the rest of the group. I knew what was coming, they were going to kill me. One of them flung me over his shoulder and walked out side. The cold night air felt nice against my skin. Soothing on the cuts on my face, arms and legs.

I was thrown down on the hard cement of the alley next to the pub. As I was about to sit up, my head was kicked just under my chin. I bit my tongue and felt the heat of blood fill my mouth. I tried to get up, but was again kicked in the stomach. I was weak, winded, bruised and bloody but still, the great brutes advanced on me and attacked every part of my body they could get to.

“FIGHT BACK YOU SON OF A BITCH!”they would keep yelling at me. One of them pulled me up into a standing position by my hair. I could hear someone screaming, and realized it was me. The one that pulled me up pinned me against the wall of the alley, his hand around my throat. I couldn't breath, I started to panic. I tried to scream again but nothing came out. Blood poured out of my mouth, I was finding it hard to think. The lack of oxygen was starting to make me hallucinate, I imagined blue and red flashing lights. The pressure on my throat releasing and a woman's voice shouting “POLICE! Get on the ground.”

I slid down the alley wall and laid there, closing my eyes as I did, unable to move. I was exhausted. The light from under my eyelids was growing darker.

“So this is how dying feels” I thought to myself.

Then a man with a parental voice said “You're going to be okay, son.”

Everything went black.
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