Mark burst across the football pitch and effortlessly dribbled past multiple defenders. The goalkeeper rushed forward out of his box, much to the coach's dismay who shook an angry fist.

“No, stay back!”

The ball soared over the goalkeeper, forming a perfect arc, and rolled into the goal. Players cheered and laughed as Mark performed a classic celebration, dashing before sliding his knees against the grass.

Leland grinned from the sidelines. If he could give one word to sum up his best friend it was football. Since they were kids, Mark had spoken about his dream of becoming a professional footballer and, truthfully, Leland believed he had a decent chance of becoming one.

The football team trained for longer, doing various passing drills, and when they finished, Mark finally realised Leland’s presence. He gave an understandable look of surprise before jogging over.

“Didn’t you say watching football was like watching paint dry?”

Leland smiled sheepishly. “Y-yeah. On the TV.”

“Of course,” Mark replied flatly, clearly not convinced.

“W-what’s wrong? I can’t support a close friend in his endeavour for greatness, f-for the sport that he l-loves so much?”

Mark laughed. “No, you can. I appreciate it. It’s just… let’s face it. This is unusual. Do you need help with something?”

“No. W-well, yes, actually. R-recently some w-weird stuff happened to me and I wanted to talk to someone about it.”

“I’m all ears. Shoot away.”

----------------------------------------

The two friends took two bus rides which took them to another part of London where Mark lived. On the second ride, Mark’s eyes squinted as he summarised Leland’s story to confirm that the story was indeed crazy and he hadn’t misheard.

“Yeah, that’s p-pretty much it,” Leland confirmed. “Well, almost–”

“There’s more?” Mark interjected.

“Yeah, so this part g-gets a bit weird. B-before Staress left, she said that I should…”

Mark elbowed Leland in the ribs. “That you should what?”

The bus stopped and four passengers entered the bus.

“This is a weird… q-question but, do you know anyone that m-might want to harm you?”

“Um, no? I wish I did. That would make life more exciting.”

“I-I’m serious!” Leland hissed.

Mark’s typical smile vanished. “You’re spooking me out now. No, I don’t. Well, apart from my ex, but I wouldn’t call her an enemy. That’s extreme. Plus, with a little charm, I think she will—”

His voice cracked on the word “will” and it was so squeaky that for a split second Leland thought someone else had spoken.

Mark cleared his throat. “We might need to run.”

Leland followed the fearful stare. His heart dropped. Standing in the centre of the bus, leaning against a pole and folding their arms, was a bulky, blond-haired student, one which they both knew. Two of his friends stood next to him.

It was Zalen, Alexa’s brother.

Mark didn’t need to explain the predicament. Leland connected the dots.

The two shrunk in their seats, trying their best not to draw attention but two minutes before their desired stop, Zalen swung once around the pole out of boredom.

“What’s up!” he boomed. “How are you today?”

Almost everyone on the bus looked at Zalen, who himself stared coldly at Mark.

“Pretty good man,” Mark said, throwing a thumbs up. “You know, it’s a pretty warm day for winter. Crazy, right?”

There was a brief, awkward silence and Leland almost fooled himself into thinking there was no beef, until Zalen spoke once again, this time, quieter and cool as ice.

“You hurt her."

Leland cringed from second-hand embarrassment, screwing his face up as if he’d tasted something extremely sour. They were in a public area. If he was a director, he would not shoot the scene at a bus stop. Maybe somewhere isolated instead, where no one could see them.

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Mark said.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“So she lied?” Zalen asked quickly.

“No, not exactly. This is hard to explain. Hear me out.”

Leland glanced at his best friend, one eyebrow raised. What could he possibly say to diffuse the situation?

The bus slowed to a halt again, and Mark bolted out of the vehicle as soon as the doors slid open. Zalen and his friends chased after him. Leland exited too, scratching the back of his head as he watched the pursuit from afar. For a brief moment, he hesitated because of one simple fact, something he’d known his whole life.

He wasn’t a fighter.

Unless it was a game of chess, he wasn’t really the aggressive type and he’d never thrown a punch before in his life. Could he really be of much help? He quickly simulated a three-on-two fight in his mind and it didn’t end well.

Nevertheless, Leland burst into a dash and followed the pursuit for at least three minutes, crossing roads congested with traffic and blasting down sidewalks. He halted in an alleyway just in time to see Mark’s body smack against the pavement.

Zalen and his two friends froze.

The crunching sound was unmistakable. Sickening.

Mark sprawled in an awkward position. Crimson leaked from his head.

“I only pushed him,” Zalen said, eyes wide with shock. He took a few steps back before darting down the alleyway, his friends close behind.

Leland ran. He crouched down and gasped when leaning in to get a closer look at the injury. Mark’s head was split open. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, gory enough to only be found on the darkest corners of the internet.

With a trembling hand, he grabbed Mark’s shoulder.

“H-hey… w-wwake up bro. S-stay with me.”

There was no response. The micro puddle of blood expanded.

“M-mark-'' Leland stopped himself, suppressing the urge to vomit and closed his eyes. How? He only fell over. Why is this happening?

He reached for his phone and called the ambulance and moments later, a woman with a calm voice picked up.

“Hello, this is an emergency ambulance. How can I help you?”

“M-m-my friend is…”

“Emergency ambulance. How can I help you?”

A vein bulged from Leland's neck. His limbs, body and face tensed as he tried to force out the next word.

Seconds passed. No words.

More seconds passed. Still no words.

“Hello? Is this the wrong number?”

Leland took a deep breath, his lungs begging for oxygen. “I-i-njured! M-my f-friend fell over! H-he hit his head!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite hear that. Can you repeat that?”

The question was like a slap to the face. Leland repeated the words. The stutter was less aggressive but still drained another precious twenty-five seconds.

“Understood. Is he conscious?”

Leland stared at Mark’s pale face. His eyes were closed. Blood spilled. Brain matter was exposed.

He looked dead.

“Is he conscious?” the woman repeated.

Leland couldn’t respond. The impenetrable brick wall waited for an attempt to speak that never came. Tears welled.

It was too late. Surely. Even if he was able to force out the words and give the required answers, the ambulance wouldn’t get there in time.

Leland ended the call and sobbed. He hung his head low.

You can’t even call to help your friend. How useless! Why can’t you just be normal? Why can’t you just speak properly? You’re a joke! You’re a clown!

The self-loathing thoughts multiplied. For a moment, he froze like a statue but then suddenly lashed out with his right fist, which crashed against the pavement. He immediately regretted the decision, cursing loudly as a sharp pain erupted.

“P-please don’t die. Y-you’re too talented to die like this. You need to become a professional footballer. You need to inspire others and chase your dreams and all of that soppy stuff.” Leland sniffed. “You’re especially not allowed to die in such a pathetic way. T-h-his is almost as bad as dying on the toilet. Come on man.”

“You can’t die like this.”

Leland frowned. Every inch of his body tingled. Those last words spoken… Even though he had said them, they felt foreign. The sound was bassier, somehow packed with authority and power. It was difficult to explain without sounding nuts but one thing was very clear…

He hadn’t stuttered. In that very short moment, the brick wall was obliterated and his mind was free from any shackles, free like the pigeons he envied during lunchtime at school. The tingle intensified to a burn, but it lessened as soon as it came. Leland felt the power leaving and instinct told him he had drifted into a narrow gate of opportunity.

It was now or never.

Leland gripped Mark’s shoulder.

“Reverse injury?”

The pool of blood and protruding brain matter re-entered Mark’s skull, and he soared into the air.

Leland’s jaw dropped. The accident was being reversed. Instead of falling over, he sprung in a spectacular, almost superhuman fashion, before landing on his feet. Leland chuckled, then laughed loudly. He couldn’t help himself. The miracle was incredibly goofy with Mark’s arms wildly flailing about as he defied gravity temporarily.

From observing the accident reversed, he now understood why the accident had been so brutal. Mark was an incredibly fast runner. Already travelling at a quick speed, Zalen’s push had sent him flying, causing him to smash his head against the ground with tremendous force.

Mark stood with his eyes closed and eventually opened them. He jolted, looking to his left and right. “Leland! There you are! We’ve got to run!”

“W-we lost them somehow.”

“Oh.” Mark let out a sigh of relief and Leland watched his head incredulously because just a few seconds ago, it had split open like a coconut.

“Why are you so shaken? Wait, Lee, have you been crying?”

“No. Let’s just go b-before they find us.”

Mark shrugged. “Whatever.”

They walked down the alleyway. “C-can you promise me something?” Leland asked.

“Maybe. Depends on what it is.”

“Become a professional footballer.”

Mark stopped, turning to face his friend. “Okay, what happened? You’re acting strange.”

“I c-can’t be supportive? I can shit on your d-dreams if you want! I d-don’t mind!”

Mark cackled. “No, no. I appreciate it. All I’m saying is you were acting strange. Thank you. Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee you success Lee, but I’ll try my best to make it pro and you can bet I won’t give up easily. I can promise you that.”

Leland nodded curtly. Hearing his friend's determined voice and seeing him not on the brink of death almost made him cry again.

“O-okay. That will do.”