A Life Rewritten
Chapter 0: Prologue
It hurts…
It hurts so much… Fuck.
But I have to hold him. I must… “aGhAHHH!” I scream out with a tangled tongue, a sharp pain blooming bellow my shoulder blade. The bastard stabbed me again. God…. Damn it. That knife's edge is way too damaged to cut cleanly, and I hate it.
I don’t know how, but I still have him in my grip. I am… NOT letting go. Even if it kills me. Not until they get away.
“Let me go, you piece of shit!” The dirty bastard screamed in rage, bearing his twisted yellow teeth at me. His eyes are bloodshot, his mouth is foaming up.
Like hell I will!
I tried to scream that out but nothing will come out of my lips, other than gurgles and wheezing sounds. And blood. Plenty of blood… I’m pretty sure he stabbed my lung through my back that last time.
The floor is cold, and wet with blood. Mostly mine. Though I did manage to give this fucker a bite that is making his shoulder bleed pretty damn good. Or is that the neck? The... trape... Trapi... the Trapezius muscle?
Hah. Good. I hope you bleed out with me. That way they’ll be safe.
I look up now, past the struggling arms of the man that keeps stabbing me, though more weakly now than before. Moving his arm must hurt a lot. I bit him good.
… It hurts.
Never mind that though. Are they safe?
I spot Alana trying to support a bleeding Johan with one arm, while constantly shouting at a phone. It feels like it has been forever since she called the police. They better get here fast. She can’t carry him far like that, and the edges of my vision are going black.
“AHHHGHrk!”
I think that was me shouting just now. Fuck that hurt. I can feel that knife lodged in my spine. Damn… It hurts! That knife is abnormally painful. It hurts so much I see spots of light appear and fade away in my eyes. All those blues and reds dancing in front of me… pretty.
No, wait… there is sound too. High pitched, screaming sirens... Those aren’t just lights. Those are police cars!
Ha. Too late, ya bastard. I win.
“Let go, let go, LET US GO!” The man screams and squirms frantically, but I cling to him anyways. He is twisting the knife that’s lodged on my spine, trying to pull it out. This piece of…. I bite him again. Hard.
“AGHfhack!” He curses and cries at the same time.
What a sweet sound. Him screaming I mean. Though it is getting harder to hear, well... anything. I feel like my heartbeat is drowning out other sounds.
“You… bastard. You-you monster!” He screams at me. I can hear it more clearly… I wonder why?
Ah. My heartbeat is quieting down. Good. I want to hear him scream for trying to hurt my family.
“How the fuck… are you still able to move! Why won’t you let go!? WHY WONT YOU DIE!?!” He screams. I can’t see his face since I’m biting on his arm as hard as I can. For some reason I remember Ruffus, with his big square head, shaking his toys viciously. It was a fraction of a better memory, but its all I need.
I do my best to mimic him, and shake my head as hard as I can, and feel hot fluid land over me as the scent of iron fills my nose. Blood. And I think its his blood this time. Its satisfying but tiring. Just doing it a couple of times drains my energy more than I care to admit. The rest of the energy in my body goes into clinging onto the man viciously. I can't even hold my head up anymore, I can only stare at a piece of sidewalk right in front of me. But I hear the panic in his voice. Serves him right.
“Put your hands up where I can see them!” I don’t know that voice. It’s a nice voice, but it sounds serious. Sounds like a woman.
Ah shit… I can barely see now. It’s like freaking tunnel vision.
He stops twisting the knife on my back. He is trying to move his arm… I won't let you.
A polished black shoe comes into my field of vision. It must be a policeman. No need to bite anymore, or hold on to him by the waist. My arms ease up. It’s done.
I let go.
I can’t really stand. It all hurts. I hurt everywhere. I can only collapse to the side, like a ragdoll. But I can now see the twins, though they seem kind of blurry. Alana is crying, her pretty face looks so sad, but at least someone put a blanket on her shoulders... I think it’s a blanket. Johan is being sat down on something, and they are tending to his stab wound on his arm. I can barely focus on them now, darkness fills most of my vision. They are both looking at me. Even as the colors of the world smudge and blend, I can some how tell how sad and tired they look.
Don't be sad. You are safe now. The bad man cant hurt you now. Neither of you.
I try to verbalize these thoughts, but I can't. My lips and tongue wont listen to me properly. Instead, I can feel a smile forming on my blood coated lips. It takes a lot of effort to move my arm, but I manage to turn my wrist to the side as I give them a feeble thumbs up. I wish I could comfort you two more, but I am so tired. A thumbs up and a smile, that should be good for now, yes?
You are safe now. Now let your brother rest a bit.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I close my eyes, and my vision finally goes black.
-0-0-0-0-0-
A poor family, living on a wasted apartment, located in a poor, trashy, and dangerous neighborhood.
What’s this?
There are six people in the family. Mom, dad, a teenager, a young kid who is only a preteen at best, and two babies.
I’ve seen this before…
The boy looks around. He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like at all. The walls are damaged; there are only two small rooms and a small washroom with a half-broken mirror. The place is bad and dirty. It looks like it could fall around them at any moment. But his older brother doesn’t seem to mind.
Ah… the boy is me. I remember this.
The boy looks at his parents and at his baby brother and sister. The twins. He doesn’t want them to be here, not in this apartment. Mama and daddy tell him to look after them. He nods. He loves his little brother and sister.
He asks his mother why they have to live there. Mother tells him its because they don’t have money. He asks her how to get more money. She tells him you need a good job to get more money. She also tells him that if he works hard at school, one day he can have a very good job that lets him earn lots of money. It’s the same answer that she has given him before.
The boy nods. He is good at school. He is the best in class. If he works hard, he can get a good job and help mama and daddy and the twins! He needs to be the best for the twins. His brother said he didn’t need help though. Brother is tough.
I see… these are my memories.
The scene changes, colors and shapes blurring like a landscape speeding along. It’s the kid walking back home from school. He looks a bit bigger. A moment latter he is attacked by other kids, who look older than him by a couple of years. It’s not the first time this happens.
His older brother told him it was okay to hit people that were trying to hit you first. So the kid fights back. He is good at this too. Dad taught him a bit of self-defense, and he is in the wrestling club. He can handle it. He is used to street fights.
In the end, he is bruised and battered, and his shirt is a bit torn… but he is standing and three kids are not. He keeps walking home.
The memory distorts, blurring, and again the scene changes.
The boy looks quite a bit older now. He is a teenager. He must be about sixteen. He is working really hard at school. Every day he sturdies like he is possessed while he is at home, and at school, he does his best at every club he has joined. He must be the best to get scholarships, since mom and dad can’t afford it. He doesn’t want to worry them, so he doesn’t tell them about the street-fights either.
His brother looks tired lately, and smells of alcohol and cigarettes. But he is still a good brother. He somehow is making some money to help out. No one asks how he gets the money. He still cares for the twins, even gets them a tiny puppy for their birthday. Ruffus he calls it
The twins are doing okay. They are growing fast. Looking at them smile makes him work harder.
The colors and shapes twist in a whirlwind.
The boy is not a boy anymore. He is twenty now, getting close to twenty-one. He was accepted into a high-end, prestigious university. He is half way through his third year in university, and he has the best grades in his year. The professors are all very impressed.
He gets a call on the phone of the dorm-room. It’s someone he has never heard, but he sounds very serious… somber even. He says he has to tell him bad news, so he should take a seat.
His parents are dead. Hit by a car while walking to the grocery store.
Next day he drops out of university and heads home.
Once more the scenery changes.
He has a job now. He studies a little when he can, hoping to one-day return to university. But he works a two full time jobs. He needs to help the family. His older brother has been in bad shape since their parents died, and slowly he seems to be getting worse… Ruffus seems to help hold him together, such a sweet Pitbull, gentle as a bunny. His brother somehow he still makes money. No one asks how.
He and his older brother have an agreement. Somehow make enough money to pay the twin’s for their university degrees. They must protect the twins. They are only twelve years old.
The scene changes again.
It’s a funeral. A cheap one, but a funeral nonetheless. The older brother is dead. He was a drug dealer it seems. He got shot by a rival gang. He got shot five times. But the shots were taken at point blank range, the first two shots where right into his skull. The police said that the evidence pointed at an execution more than a drive-by shooting.
But the second eldest brother doesn’t cry during the funeral. He wants to. He really wants to. But he has to be strong for the twins.
The poor twins... They are crying their eyes out.
He hugs them and they hug him.
He needs to work harder now. That’s all he knows how to do anyways.
The scene changes again.
Something tells me that the scenes will end soon…
This time, the young man is now much older. He is thirty. His body has grown much stronger, thanks to all the heavy jobs he has done, but he wears the eyes of a man far older than him. He looks very tired. It’s as if he is carrying the weight of world on his shoulders.
The twins are in second year-university now. They are doing well. Alana is studying to be an environmental scientist. Johan is studying to be an electrical engineer. It’s going well.
He smiles to himself. In two years when they graduate… things will finally be better. Everything will be fine.
The scene changes for the last time.
The twins are back in town. They have graduated. It’s smiles, hugs, and jokes all around. They are happy to see their older brother, though a bit shocked at his appearance. But the fire is still in his eyes. He laughs and smiles, gives them, as a gift, a cellphone to each of them. The first cellphone either of them have owned. They are very happy. They even talk about getting a dog once again.
Ah… That happened this morning…
They walk around town, and go out for dinner. Their older brother is paying this time. It’s a special day after all. They could afford to go this one time.
Besides, soon the twins would have jobs, and then his burden would be reduced. And then they could all be happy.
…Or that’s what I thought…
It’s nighttime now. It’s dark. They are heading back to their decrepit apartment… the same apartment where they have had to live in for years. Soon, they would be able to sell it and get something better. Everything was finally shaping up.
But when they enter the poorly lit street that leads to their home, a crazy looking man with a knife in each hand jumps them. The twins jump, scared, but he remembers the face from the news. He is that suspected serial killer the police are after.
The killer lunges at the twins.
The twins scream.
Johan gets stabbed in the arm.
Johan’s brother leaps against the man without thinking. Tackling him to the ground and rolling with him. He screams at Alana to call the police, and to help Johan too.
And that’s all the time he has before he is stabbed for the first time. From that point on, it’s a one-sided fight. The only upside is that the killer lost one of his knives thanks to the initial tackle.
Over and over again the elder brother is stabbed as he tries to hold the killer in place, until the police arrive.
And then the film of his life finally ends. Thirty-two years of life conclude.
Ah… I died, didn’t I?
Everything goes white.