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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/913128-Boots-and-Braces
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Thriller/Suspense · #913128
Hate comes around.

BOOTS AND BRACES


“Boots and braces, shaven-headed hoards
Boots and braces, fighting 'cos you're bored
Boots and braces, you'll always get the blame
Boots and braces, we'll come in just the same!”
- Skrewdriver

The radio blared as Don raced down Lake Shore Drive in a last minute effort to reach The Metro, a local, yet infamous concert hall. Don’s favorite Band, Skrewdriver, is playing at the Metro tonight and, coincidentally, his foster mother broke her leg at work and Don was forced to go to the hospital because his mom forgot her insurance card. “Shit,” Don shouted as he glanced at the clock and saw he had only five minutes to the show started with at least 10 minutes of driving left. Normally he could have missed the opening act and arrive just in time for the headliner, but not tonight. Tonight’s concert was not only featuring Skrewdriver, but also Aggravated Assault, Angry Aryans, Code of Violence, and Definite Hate. Tonight’s Bill was one that Don would only dream of seeing, until tonight. These bands were the raunchiest, meanest, and most racist hatecore bands that the earth has ever seen, and Don was about to miss the opening acts. The speedometer pointer crept up to ninety as Don began to curse wildly. The fit finally ended when his car phone rang.

“Hello,” said Don in a flustered tone.
“Yea, it’s me, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!,” screamed the voice on the other side of the line. It was Don’s best friend, Kevin, who was already at the show along with four other of Don’s good friends.
“My mom broke her leg at work and didn’t have her damn insurance card, so I had to go home to get it for her, did they start yet?,” Don said.
“ Not yet” replied Kevin, “but the Aryans are going to take the stage in five minutes, so hurry the fuck up!”
“Alright, I just got on Clark, I’ll see you in a few minutes” Don said as he rapidly spun the steering wheel causing the car to skid as it crossed the Belmont and Clark intersection.
“Park in the South Garage and then follow the sounds of screaming Jews to the show,” replied Kevin.
“Fucking Protestors,” muttered Don as he pulled into an empty parking space that a driver had luckily just pulled out of, which was located right next to the exit of the south garage. Don didn’t bother giving his goodbyes to Kevin as he opened his car door and began to sprint towards the Metro.
There certainly were a great deal of protestors at this particular show, but nothing could stop Don from entering the Concert Hall that was only seconds away from erupting into a two hour onslaught of some good old American Hate music. “Shit,” Don exclaimed as he saw the ocean of bodies screaming, pushing, and blocking the entrance to the concert hall. Although this obstacle was annoying, Don couldn’t help the feeling of excitement that had suddenly rushed over him. He knew that some old fashioned racially motivated violence was about to take place and he was going to be at the center of it all. Don loved to fight, he always had since he was a five year old bully beating up kids at the orphanage that were most of the time twice his size, if not bigger. It wasn’t just the fighting itself that Don loved, it was the whole experience overall. He loved everything from insulting the soon-to-be victims, to snorting vicodin at the end of each fight in an attempt to numb the pain. “An ultra-violent buzz” is the term that Don uses to describe his definite satisfaction for fighting, and he was soon to experience this “buzz” once again.
The crowd of Jews and protestors were now only 400 yards away and Don began to speed up his stride as the adrenalin started to pump through his veins. Now he was close enough to read the picket signs that the crowd was vigorously waving back and forth. “Down with violence,” Don read as he reached into his back pockets and pulled out a pair of shiny brass knuckles which he instantly equipped to his fist. Don was now 150 yards away from the back of the crowd and his fast stride turned into an all out death sprint. A few of the protestors saw him coming and screamed a feeble, “Watch out,” but it was too late. Don’s body was leaning forward and his fist were flying like a pair of flesh maces trimmed with just enough metal to crack three skulls open in one swing. Adrenalin was practically pouring from his ears and his eyes were popping out of his skull. He collided with the crowd as if he were a linebacker sent from hell. He hit the first three people all at the same time and with such force that their flying bodies knocked over the next six bystanders that were protesting in front of them. Don did not stop though. He leaped over the fallen bodies and continued to plow through the crowd using his elbows and metal-trimmed fist. An aisle of fallen protestors began to form behind Don as he continued with his brutal onslaught. He finally reached the police line that was protecting the doorway to The Metro and he quickly slipped his brass knuckles back into his pocket before one of the men in blue could see them. “LET ME IN,” he quickly shouted at a police officer that was standing just yards away from him. When the police officer turned to look at the voice he just herd, he saw quite a sight. Don was standing next to the blue police line in his blood washed t-shirt, panting like a dog, while blood ran down his face and literally dripped from his knuckles. He knew Don was there to see the show due to his shaven head and red braces that were dangling down from his hips. To the ignorant police officer it looked as if Don was in desperate need of help, but little did he know that almost none of blood that completely covered Don’s body was his, but rather it belonged to the obliterated casualties that still lay on the ground almost directly behind Don. Nevertheless, the police officer ran over and quickly escorted Don towards the entrance of the Metro.

“Thank you for your help officer,” said Don in an innocent tone.
“I should have let them kill you, damn Nazi,” the officer angrily replied.

Don casually smirked and gave his ticket to the huge bouncer who was guarding the small doorway along with five of his equally beastly friends. The music began to play just as Don walked into the club. The Angry Aryans were first on the bill; they were one of Don’s favorite bands and he wasn’t going to waste their performance by looking for his friends so he decided to join the mosh-pit and enjoy the truly gut-wrenching performance. The Angry Aryans were always a crazy band and they certainly got the crowd riled up. People began to literally fly through the air at one point and the band had to stop so the bouncers could settle down the crowd. During this time, Don decided to walk around the small auditorium to try to locate his friends.
Skinheads were everywhere so it was hard to tell who’s who because everybody had their head shaved. Most of the people were also wearing their infamous combat boots and braces (suspenders), which truly signify that they are a fan of the Nazi punk genre of music. Ever since the band Skrewdriver came out with their hit song “Boots and Braces,” if you had a shaved head, wore suspenders, and wore combat boots; then you were classified as a neo-Nazi. After a few minutes of pushing through a variety of drunk, stoned, and wired skinheads, Don finally found his friends.

“I guess they’re never gonna try this again,” said Don as he walked up to Kevin who was standing against the back wall by the tables that were selling hate music and Nazi literature.
“Hey you finally…WOW what happened to you,” exclaimed George, another of Don’s friends as he saw the blood drenched shirt that Don was wearing.
“I had some trouble gettin’ into the place,” Don replied with a mischievous grin across his face.
“It looks like you just executed the second holocaust,” said Kevin
“Heh, I know, like I said I bet they’re never gonna have another show here again,” replied Don.
“What do you mean?” asked George with a puzzled look on his face.
“This was the first attempt to have an openly promoted show in downtown Chicago, and by the looks of it, we ain’t gonna have another concert here with these bands ever again,” said Don.
“Yup, we better have our fun now, because after this were gonna have to start drivin’ back up to Rockford again to see our bands play,” said Kevin.

The music started to play again and the group of friends entered the mosh-pit once more. The rest of the show continued to get better and the bands continued to play. The mosh-pit would get more and more brutal until the bands had to stop playing and wait for the bouncers to settle everyone down again. It was the craziest show that Don had ever been too and he was loving every second of it. The protestors outside held their ground throughout the show. The fans inside the Metro would always get riled up when the music would stop because they could hear the crowd outside continually shouting things. This certainly didn’t help when the bands had to stop because the mosh-pit was getting out of control. Towards the end of the show, the bouncers were joined by some of the police outside to help keep things in order.
After all of the pre-headline bands played, Skrewdriver finally took the stage. They opened with an older, but well-known hit of theirs, “Anti-Social.” The crowd went absolutely nuts and Skrewdriver could barely finish the song before they were told to stop. They continued to perform and they finally finished their initial act. Now it was time for the finale, all the bands were to come on stage and join Skrewdriver in their hit song, “Boots and Braces.” The bouncers and policemen were on their toes ready to stop the crowd, but, surprisingly the mosh-pit didn’t really get that wild. Instead, everybody there just sort of pushed toward the stage and sang along with the bands. In mid-song, however, some of the protestors broke through one of the back doors and they started to rush into the building. Everyone was surprised, but they were also ready to fight. Within thirty seconds, the protestors were forced out of the building by the crazed Nazis including Don. He once again plowed into the oncoming hoard of protesters and gave them a beating that would certainly make them think twice before they ever approach a skinhead again. After the incident, however, everyone was forced out of the building due to the lack of bouncers and crazed mindset of the fans.
Don and his friends decided to go to a local bar to get some lager after they were pushed out of the Concert Hall and it was Don’s turn to drive. They always traveled together and in a single car because it was nearly impossible to find open parking spots down town, and they also needed to stay together because they always got into fights. Don went and got his car and came back around to pick up his five buddies. As he was on his way back, he got another call from his mother.
“Hello,” said Don
“Hi, Don,” replied his mother
“What do you need, now?”
“I Don’t need anything, everything is fine here at the hospital, but guess who called my cell phone today?,” replied Don’s mother in an enthusiastic tone.
“Who,” said Don curiously
“It’s Bill, he’s finally coming home today, you’re finally going to meet your big brother,” exclaimed Don’s mom.
“Oh my God, are you serious, this is great, when is he coming home?” asked Don, who’s now excited that he’ll finally be able to meet his big brother who is currently serving as a special operations officer in Iraq.
“He’ll be home around one thrity, he has to check in at his hotel room first and then he’s gonna take the train home,” replied Don’s mother.
“Nonsense, I’ll pick him up. What hotel is he staying at, er, why is he even staying at a hotel?”
“Heh, coincidentally, Bill has a dinner party tomorrow, which is being held at the Lake View Hotel. A few of his superior officers will be attending and he wants to talk to them about getting a promotion in rank. He figured he would reserve a room for tomorrow before he comes home tonight because he plans to talk with the officers for a long time tomorrow night,” replied Don’s mother.
“Alright,” said Don, “Call him and tell him that I’ll pick him up at one fifteen outside of the main entrance to the Hotel.”
“You got it son, I’m so happy your finally going to meet him,” said Don’s mother
“I’ll see you tonight, Mom.”
“Goodbye son, and be careful, I hear that there were a group of violent protestors outside the Metro. What kind of bands do you listen to anyways?” With that, Don hung up the phone in fear that he may have to explain his neo-Nazi beliefs to his mom, which she already suspected and after tonight he’ll have to explain why he was at the show.
It would break his mom’s heart if she found out that Don was a Nazi. She’s worked so hard for the two of them and Don would do anything to protect their relationship. He was not going to stop being a Nazi, though. He couldn’t, being a skinhead was a part of his life and he would feel incomplete without it. It started in his orphanage, which was more like a juvenile correctional facility. It was made up of mostly runaways and kids that were kicked out of all the other orphanages and like today’s modern prisons, kids had to join gangs to have a chance at survival. When Don was staying at the facility, these gangs, also like modern prisons, were mostly defined by your race, especially if you were white. The whites were always the hated minority, so they banded together as a single super-gang and took on Nazism as their trademark. The memories of the fighting and abuse done to Don and his friends stuck with him after he left the home. Now, every time he saw a person that wasn’t white, his blood begins to flow faster and anger slowly, or sometimes quite quickly, overtakes his body, whether he wants it to or not.
Don wasn’t thinking about skinhead identity, however, or his troubled childhood, he was thinking about meeting his brother for the first time tonight. Don’s brother, Bill, was taken away from Don’s mom when he was fourteen years old, before she adopted Don. His father was a photographer that traveled internationally and he took Bill everywhere he went until Bill turned eighteen when he chose to join the military. He visited his mom before he made this decision who at the time was taking care of Don, but Don and his mom were in a fight and he was living with one of his friends at the time, so he never met Bill. Don only had pictures of his older step brother and he truly did want to meet him in person. Not only because he was his older brother, but also because he served as a special ops officer, the militay career that Don himself wanted to take up in a few years so, naturally, Don had millions of questions. Don’s focus quickly changed, however, when he pulled up to his friends, who were waiting about two blocks around the corner from where the concert hall to avoid the protestors.
They hopped in the car and started for the “Beer Tap,” a nearby pub that served as a social safe haven for the local skinheads. It was extremely crowded due to the concert and they had to park in a lot that was located five blocks away from the pub and it was conveniently only a block away from the hotel where Bill was staying. They got out of the car and started for the pub.
When they got there, the place was even more full then before and they just got in before the bouncer came out to monitor the number of people that left and entered the pub. Although it was crowded, the pub was still relatively clean. Soon enough, however, puke would begin to splatter the floor as a result of people drinking too much. The Beer Tap did not have a limit on how much a person could drink and as a result, the air inside the Pub always carried the stench of stale vomit and air-freshener. Although, it was annoying, it was also very helpful because it kept unwanted guest from entering the Pub. The old pub was the holding ground of many drunken parties, but tonight, Don would have to take it easy.
Don’s friends did the exact opposite and they started the night off with forties all around. After Don finished his initial forty, he limited himself to three more beers which would give him a light, but satisfying buzz. After Don hit his three beer limit, he continued to talk with the other skinheads and neo-Nazis that were in the pub. After an hour and half of talking and conversing, Don decided to leave because Kevin was kicked out of the pub, when he decided to start a random fight in his drunken haze. The two of them left the pub and began to walk back to the car.
Kevin was really out of it and Don was struggling with trying to keep him from going back to the pub, where he would surely start a fight and possibly get arrested. Don decided to take the two of them through a narrow alley as a short cut, bad decision. The two of them walked through the dark alley that would lead them to Richmond Avenue, the street in which the lot was located. They made it through the alley okay, but at the end, they ran into a group of three, young, black men who were simply passing by on the sidewalk. Nevertheless, Kevin had to say something that pissed them off.
In a drunken voice Kevin said, “God Damnit, you fff-ucken coooonss, get out of MY town.” Kevin screamed in a drunken manner, but before Kevin could take a swing, one of the men threw a sharp left hook to his stomach, knocking the wind of him. The other two jumped at Don with flurry of wild punches. Don raised his arms in defense before the punches could land and he quickly began circled to the right forcing his attackers to come at him one at a time. The first attacker, who was the bigger of the two, came at Don with a deadly, but wild right hook witch Don blocked, then countered with a straight left jab to the black’s upper lip. He caught him perfectly and the large black man ducked away from the fight in a confused panic. The upper lip contains a cluster of nerves that when hit hard enough, cause extreme pain and possible blindness. The second attacker immediately threw a hard right towards Don’s nose, but Don was able to deflect the punch just in time so it skimmed the side of his face. The first punch was followed with a quick left to Don’s chin, but Don caught this punch and quickly pulled his attacker into the side of his body allowing him to twist his hip and flip the assailant down towards the ground, which he hit with a loud thud.
With both of Don’s attackers temporarily immobilized, Don raced over to his friend who was on the ground, rapidly being kicked by the third black guy. As the attacker turned his face he was instantly met by Don’s hard right fist. His head snapped sideways from the blow and he fell to the ground unconscious. “You stupid fucking nigger,” Kevin shouted as he realized his attacker was now lying on the ground next to him. The other two attackers were starting to recover and Don sprinted towards them in order to finish them off while Kevin sat on the ground shouting racial slurs at the attackers that had just beat him up. Don kicked one of the blacks as he was beginning to get up again, but before he could get to the second one who was already standing up, he felt something hit him hard directly in the kidney from behind him. Don dropped to his knees only to be met by this random assailant’s knee which hit him in the back of his head. Don quickly raised his arms to protect his face after he hit the ground. Somebody had intervened with the fight.
“Get out of here!” shouted an unknown voice and the three African American’s ran away.
Looking through his arms, Don could barely see the outline of the new attacker’s body in the dark alley. The attacker continued assault with blow after blow, each one to fast for Don to see.
“Your dead you fucking Nazi,” shouted the attacker.
Don was helpless lying on the ground while this attacker continued to beat him to a pulp. Suddenly, Don felt the attacker trip over his body and fall to the ground behind him. The brutal onslaught had temporary stopped and Don dropped his arms to see what happened. He looked up and saw Kevin pressed against a wall trying to defend himself against the attacker. The sight of Kevin being mutilated by this attacker caused the adrenalin to erupt through Don’s veins. Don quickly grabbed a lead pipe that was lying next to him and got up.
“Hey!” shouted Don as he ran at the attacker.
Just as Don wanted him to, the attacker jerked his head sideways and Don swung the lead pipe as hard as he could right down on the attacker’s temple. The assailant instantly dropped to the ground with part of his forehead smashed into his skull. Although Don was in a great amount of pain, he quickly slung Kevin over his shoulder and ran as fast as he could back to his car.
When he finally got to his car, he immediately called his mom to tell her that he would be few minutes late in picking up Bill because he had to drive one of his friends to the hospital due to a vicious brawl at a bar. Although Don was in a great amount of pain, he didn’t have any large gashes or cuts that needed to be stitched and he didn’t have a headache either, so he knew his was probably okay. Kevin, however, looked pretty bad and it was a miracle that he was still awake. Don had no choice but to take him to the hospital and that’s exactly what he did.
When he got there, Kevin was barely awake thanks to Don who didn’t let him fall asleep on the way to the hospital. He carried Kevin inside and then left when the paramedics put him on the stretcher. The only thing he said was that Kevin was drunk and that he got into a fight because he didn’t want to talk to any of the doctors about what had just happened. He ran back to his car and cleaned himself up as he drove to the Lake View Hotel.
Don’s face looked surprisingly okay outside of a few bruises along the sides of his jaw and a few scratches on his forehead. He tried to calm himself down as he pulled into the entrance of the Lake View Hotel. His brother wasn’t there however and he called his mom to find out where Bill was and she said that he wasn’t picking up his cell, so Don just waited, and waited, and waited.
Three hours pasts and Bill was still nowhere to be found. Don had walked into the hotel and asked anyone there that might know where Bill was, no one could help. He eventually drove home to his mom who was now confused and worried. When he got there, his mom was pacing back and forth wondering where her son was.

“He didn’t call at all,” said Don.
“No, not since this afternoon, and he’s not picking up his phone either,” replied Don’s mom. “Are you sure you looked everywhere and asked everyone in the Hotel?” asked Don’s Mom.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Then I guess all we can do is wait.” Said Don’s mom.
They waited in the family room until the next morning, calling Bill’s cell phone every so often, but not get getting any calls from him in return. Don’s mom eventually called the police and told them about Bill. She also gave them the most recent picture she had of Bill, which was one of him smiling, while standing in his combat uniform. The officers left the house, but within six hours, they came back again.
This time the officer took his hat off before he entered their home…
“I’m afraid that I’ve brought you two some very unfortunate news…” said the officer in an overly calm tone.
“What happened,” Don’s mom asked with her eyes already starting to glaze over with moisture.
“You may want to sit d…”
“Just tell me what happened,” Don’s mom exclaimed, her body now shaking.
“We found your son, he was brutally murdered in alley off of Richmond Avenue, Downtown,” said the officer who was now looking at the floor.
“Wha-what happened,” Don’s mom said trying to fit her words in between sobs.
“He was most likely mugged and then killed by a hard blow to his temple. There was convenient store nearby and the cashier said that your son purchased a pack of cigarettes around one fifteen a.m. Do you know…”

Before the officer could finish, Don realized who the mysterious assailant was that attacked him and Kevin last night. So this was the final result of living a life of hatred and violence, Don thought to himself. His brother was dead and he was no closer to achieving his life long dreams of serving in the military. The sudden epiphany and the grief that came with it made him vomit before his mom and the Police officer.

“All that pent up anger that goes pouring through your head,
Street fight, in the city, someone’s gonna wined up dead!”
-Skrewdriver
© Copyright 2004 Lord_Nexus (lord_cthulhu at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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