Entry #521202, added on 06-28-08 @ 7:44 pm EDT
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| Part One - Chapter Six: I'll Always Be Your Friend | Entry #521202 |
Chapter Six
Brian chased me to the back of the playground and up the slope to my house. I tripped on the sidewalk and slid, skinning my knees and tearing the palms of my hands on the jagged cement. Les and two friends of David’s, Richard and Danny White, were talking at the back door.
I screamed, “Richard.” He was closest to me.
He turned as Les burst out the door. Richard and Danny ran behind Les.
As I stood up, Brian grabbed me from behind and hit me with his fist, knocking me down again. He raised his arm to hit me once more but didn’t notice Les.
Les jumped on Brian’s back and forced him to the ground. Brian was a lot older and stronger than Les and stood back up with him still on his back. But Les was big for a thirteen-year-old and able to keep his legs wrapped around him. With his left arm around Brian’s neck, he punched him with his right fist on the side of the head. Then Danny walked up, took Brian by the collar and slammed his fist in Brian’s face. I heard something crack.
Les let go long enough for Richard to grab Brian’s arms and pull them behind him.
Danny and Les beat him till he didn’t respond, and he fell to the ground.
Les told Danny, “Don’t let him move.”
Danny stood over six feet, weighed two hundred pounds and loved to fight. He snickered, “Look at the track-marks on his arms. He's a damned junkie. Don't worry, he’s not going anywhere.”
Les walked over to me. “What happened, Lisa?”
I tried to tell him through my sobs, and I think he caught only pieces of what I said. But, when I told him where Brian touched me, Les looked at Danny and Richard and screamed, “That son-of-a bitch.” He charged into our apartment.
He returned holding a club, with a heavy crown, like a thick cane, walked over to Brian and said, “Roll him over, Danny.”
Brian, curled on his side and moaning, looked helpless. Les hit him in the mouth with the cane. Blood went everywhere. I was horrified. Brian screamed out with pain. Then Les reached down and pulled his legs straight side-by-side and cracked the crown of the cane across both knees.
He leaned over and grabbed him by the throat. “You dope-head motherfucker, I’ll kill you if you ever touch my sister again.”
Danny and Richard were considerably older and a little more street-wise than Les. “Come on man, we need to go,” one of them said. “Leave him; there’s people watching.” They pulled Les off Brian.
I was sitting on the sidewalk crying. My right hand dripped with blood from the gashes in my palm. Les bent down and picked me up to carry me home. As I leaned on his shoulder and cried, he held me close and stroked my head gently. “Don’t worry Lisa, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
I looked back and saw the small crowd that had gathered break up. Brian was still lying on the ground. In the projects, no one said much about what happened there. They were too afraid to get involved.
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© Copyright 2008 L. A. Powell (UN: lisapowell at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Content Rating Notice: Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only
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