Me, Myself and I

He was too shocked to scream right away, so I hit him on the head on his way down. Two stroke roll. Two strokes and he rolled.

I don't think he ever saw me.

I dragged his unconscious body to a dark spot between the houses that nobody was likely to look at, as I had found from my earlier investigations, and I beat him to a pulp. I don't even know what I broke and what not. But I messed him up good, real good. Then I left, watching for any onlookers. Saw none, and left.

I slept well that night. One gone, two to go. Then showtime for the motherfucker.

Next day, the school was in upheaval. He was found by his mom, she returned home a few minutes after I had left - lucky bastard I was! This was a parameter I needed to remember, not just their schedules, but most importantly, the schedules of their families.

He was in a very bad shape. Rushed to the hospital. His condition, stable. Many fractures, concussion. Most thought he was mugged.

I knew better.

I didn't show anything. But I sensed the lard-ass seeing me. I smelled his growing apprehension, like a shark smelling blood. I smelled the growing fear in his loins. He somehow knew it was me. He sensed it. He felt it.

I looked at him. Dead in the eye. No emotion.

He stared back. I could see the growing fear in his eyes.

And then I left to go to class.

Bob Haw was the larger of the two remaining goons. He was tougher to corner, as he was scared shitless from what happened to his friend John, so grew an extra pair of eyes on his ass.

They didn't help him much.

I hid right next to his house, in a dark corner, a Friday night that I knew his parents worked and would not be back for at least half an hour. This time I took no chances. As soon as he passed right by me without taking any notice, I quickly got off my cover and hit him on the head. He literally didn't know what hit him, and he was off like a light.

I dragged his sorry ass back, and gave him a good beating with the bat. Again, real good. Then I left, careful not to be seen. And after a safe distance, I ran home.

I slept even better that night. Two goons out of the picture. One more to go, and your time has come, motherfucker! The Angel of Vengeance has arrived. I'll take you to hell personally. Death. No mercy, you fucking piece of shit. No mercy.

It was a riot in school the next day. Policemen gathered us all in the assembly room and told us that Bob was mugged and beaten severely. He had multiple fractures and a concussion. He was the second victim in just a few days. Did anyone know or suspect anything?

Chris Efran, the lard-ass, so macho with his goons, was now scared shitless. He spotted me in the crowd and stared at me. Fear in his eyes. He knew it was me. I just looked at him. No expression. He was a scarred little puppy now.

'Just one goon to go and then You are next, motherfucker. You will die', I thought, my thoughts screaming at him, my expression unchanged. He flinched. He heard me loud and clear. And this time, there was no faking it: he was scared to the core. He soaked in fear. I felt it; he REEKED fear.

I never had the chance to exact my revenge on Chris Efran, the lard-ass fuck, or Jack Price, his remaining goon. As it seems, he was not a bully to me alone, but to the whole school. Now that I took two thirds of his protection out, he was easy prey; easy to corner. And he got cornered alright. Both him and Jack, his goon bitch. By a good-sized portion of his victims, which was half the school. The kids that he had mercilessly tortured the last couple years. And they, not I, did a good number on both of'em. Group kicks, punches, slaps and all kinds of tearing and beating all over. A regular lynching, very well deserved. Both were rushed to the hospital. When they came to, both claimed they fell, following the advice they were given by the mob that lynched'em. Otherwise, as was made clear to them, they would meet their maker. And that didn't mean their parents' genitalia.

Well, I was not destined to reap the fruits of my labor, but it didn't really matter in the end. After the shithead and his goon cunt left the hospital, his family left in a hurry, and I never saw any of'em again for a very long time.

Good riddance.

___________________________________________________________________

Then came Mary Collins. Since Emma, my second failure in self-preservation.

She came with moderate looks, not the best, not the worst. Promise of a fine-looking woman in the future, a promise she indeed fulfilled, but rather a lame Jane for now. Glasses, braces, a blonde ponytail, thin, creamy-white skin, not many 'girlie' assets. But somehow beautiful, in her own way. And, as I said, promise of real good looks later, if and when she blossomed. But who cared for later?

Still, the first girl to approach me since Emma joined the stars. Actually, make that the first human.

Her punchline punched me like Thor's hammer.

"I know what you did", she said.

Damn.

I knew what I did, and it was to kick the living daylights out of the two goons. A very punishable crime, on the police roster by the way. If what she knew was the same as what I knew, then I was screwed.

"What are you talking about?", came from my mouth, expression as unchanged as possible, fear hitting me like a tsunami. She knew?!?

"Don't play dumb with me, Mark Harrison. I know. I have seen you."

Shit.

"I don't know what you are talking about", came my reply. Expression still unchanged, fear escalating to new heights. How the fuck did a plain-looking girlie make me shit my pants, a feat the two goons never accomplished?

She exhaled. Half in frustration, half in something difficult to decipher. An inward reserve, perhaps?

She pursed her lips.

"So, you want to make me say it. Ok then. Yes, I saw you following them. You know who. I have seen you a few times around them, hiding. You were not THAT hard to spot, you know."

I held my breath. She held hers. Then exhaled, and continued.

"I think that you did the right thing, by the way. They deserved everything they got. And I know that Chris and Jack are not your doing. I saw that too. I was there."

Shit. Fuck.

Well, she got my number. No use hiding behind my little finger.

"Does anyone else know?"

"I haven't told anyone. But the whole school suspects, I guess."

Shit.

I am going to be arrested for this. Damn. As in Damn Fool.

"They all think you did the right thing. Nobody will give you away", she said with a faint smile.

"How do you know that?"

"'Cause they all thank you for it. You saved everyone. Well... everyone except the jocks and the cheerleaders. But they don't care anyway; Chris and his gang would never try anything with them, they would get pulverized. Trust me, you will be ok."

I held my breath, as if to show some sort of sophisticated inner contemplation or brain activity. In fact I was just trying to save myself from a heart attack.

"I give you my word", came from her mouth, her look showing something that I hadn't seen since before the accident.

Care. She showed me that she cared.

There was only one other person on Earth that I had seen having the same expression looking at me, and she had gutted my heart out. But at that moment, I felt her. I felt her presence. I felt Emma smile. I didn't want to do it, yet I couldn't resist; I felt her guiding my hand to find the key and reignite my soul.

And it came back from the dead. Rusty. Time-worn. Coughing, with plumes of smoke out of its exhaust pipe, choking. With an urgent need of a make-over.

But alive, nonetheless.

With life came all the hurt. It hit me like a guided, personal tsunami. Fast, accurate, swift, brutal. And devastating.

Damn it, Emma! Why did you do it? Did you hate me so much? Why did you leave me? Didn't you love me? Didn't you care?

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to...

Nothing. I did nothing. It all flashed by in a moment. I took a deep breath and assumed control. Survival is paramount, shithead. Get a fucking grip.

"I believe you, Mary Collins", I said, looking her in the eye. She smiled, her eyes smiled with her.

"I believe you and I trust you."

Her smile came from the heart. It showed care. And trust. And acceptance. And happiness.

She made it nice to be alive. After a long time.

We went to the English class together. And every class after that. She never left my side that day.

We never spoke of this again. Nor did anyone else. But I could see it in their eyes. They all knew. And their eyes thanked me.

The sidekicks, John and Bob and Jack the goons, never came back to school. Seems that the 'committee' that had persuaded Chris the ass-hat to stay clear of the school worked its magic again. Their families left town in a haste as soon as they left the hospital. Just like Chris.

This was not a simple coincidence. Something deeper must have been at play here, something involving adults. Kids alone don't scare families away, not like that.

Somehow, without any real reason, I felt safe. I felt Emma watching over me. Smiling, reassuring me.

I also felt something nice:

I was finally alive again.

I felt.

And it was good.