On The Sidewalk Bleeding

The burnished, luminous sun blinded my watering eyes as he penetrated towards me. He was wearing a bright, fluorescent purple jacket and the lettering inscribed on back of his silk jacket read "The Royals." On the reverse side was his short but meaningful name, Andy, printed carefully in a bold charcoal like black. He had a sparkling glint in his eyes and his straw like hair stood up on ends like luscious grass swaying from side to side on a blossoming field. He halted suddenly as he had arrived at his destination. I sustained where I was and now we were face to faceÐ'...

My best friend, my brother, he had dropped the biggest bombshell on me; I felt as flat as a piece of fleshless paper. The memories I still carry, the memories I still share. The times we always shared together, our childhood memories. Identical twins from the heart but never from the eye. Helping each other through rough times and a helping hand from up above. The laughs, giggles and comical photographs I still cherish. He was a brother no more but now he was my dreading nightmare. This was a war of jealousy, a war of blood and surely blood would be spilt and if not mine it would undoubtedly be his. That delinquent defraud would certainly be haunted by his horrific actions.

Andy walked away at a very slow pace, almost as slow as an ancient turtle. I grudged my fist in anger and hatred. At this moment in time the climax had reached its full, effortless shine. I could hear the screaming, silence of his thumping heart beating faster and faster like a steam engine on tracks getting louder and louder. It was like someone had tarred a chunk off me and thrown it away as far as possible. An innocent and vulnerable soul had drifted further and further away from me. I felt as if someone had stolen my life's worth of prized possessions and I couldn't search for them. What was I to do? My vindictive rage had got the better of me, my thoughts were scattered in my mind and I was utterly confused. My corrupted conscience was making me focus on my "dreading nightmare," only. Now was the rightful time to strike and crush Andy's hopes and dreams like a helpless and pitiful ant. My unscrupulous, malicious and bitter, sweet revenge was now on the verge.

The 4th December 1997 at 08:30amÐ'...Andy was exiting his thatched front door. He was wearing his belongings and a symbol of whom he belonged to. He was heading for the haunted and abandoned Gateways Bridge where they always used to meet, where those treacherous people used to meet, those unworthy Royals. A legend was once told that who ever was to die there would be bought alive in sprit to get there revenge. I realised my job would have to be done now or never.

10:30amÐ'... I was rushing around trying to meet my momentous deadline. Finally I had reached my target, my goal. Suddenly I turned around and I was startled and disgusted. Those pernicious people, The Royals, surrounded me. A feeling of anxiety overcame me because I was enclosed in a restricted and narrow space. Had I shrunk or had the grown? To my relief my fellow Hawks had arrived and now i felt as strong as a gigantic and terrifying ogre. The gangs stood opposite each other, you could feel the opposite competitors breath smear against serious looking faces. We were that close to each other that you could hear the immediate sound of everyone's heart on life support. I couldn't think of anything but Andy, his name flashed like cloudless lights in my mind and all I desired was for him to vanish out the picture. Andy and I walked onward until there was no gap between him and I. The rest of them had gradually disappeared on Andy's and my command, they made a high-pitched creaking sound because of the mahogany coloured floorboards as they exited. Now the word kill was flashing like cloudless lights in my mind. My cunning and machiavellian plan was almost accomplishedÐ'...first I was to fake the most convincing apology, secondly I was to jab a sharp and lethal dagger into him and last but leastÐ'...death. My well-planned revenge was now in action.

I had betrayed my own blood; I had betrayed my own flesh. He had believed my fake apology. As I mentioned before he was a "vulnerable soul." He came closer and closer; I squeezed him and gave him an enormous hug. Last but not leastÐ'...relief! The job was done and dusted. What had I done? What was to become of this? He felt as cold as ice. The bullet like rain was jabbing into his fragile, velvet like skin. He couldn't see much as the marching rain had blinded his eyes. His open wound released a river of a red, thick flow of blood onto the rough pavement. I struggled to pull the bloody dagger out of his stomach but when I did, Andy sighed in great relief. He fell in slow motion onto the prickly and gravely ground. He was in agonising pain. His eyes started to close at a slow pace.

My whole life flashed before me. I was scattered all over the place. I had murdered my own brother. I closed my eyes then opened them. A droplet of refreshing water drizzled down my soft, tissue like cheek. I knelt down and scooped Andy into my weak arms and tried to comfort him. A distinctive and familiar noise had swiftly drifted into my sensitive ears. Sirens! Where had they come from? I was in a deep trance and I dint know how to react to this particular situation. I had two possible options switching on and off in my mind. I could leave my innocent brother to die, lead a guilt trip for the rest of my entire life or I could help my helpless brother, take him somewhere, where he could urgently receive medical attention and lead a normal, unique and non guiltily life. That wasn't really a difficult choice. He was family I had to help him. I rapidly scooped him into my boneless and frail arms. He was as heavy as an over grown elephant. I trudged along like a very slow train. The winds life like arms were suppressing me back but I had to carry on, my only brothers life was at stake.

...