Sunday, November 15, 2009

Escaping my hiding place - Chapter 32


“Speak from your heart and you will always find the words you were looking for!”

“Are you Jason?” Brad said to me in a tone suggesting that he didn’t want me to say yes

“Yes” I replied, perhaps stupidly

“You came and bought underwear from me didn’t you?”


“With your friend Hannah?”


“You said your name was JayJay, I remember”

“Well its Jason Junior….J-J…see”

“I told you stuff”

“I know”

“You said it was horrible, you said you felt bad for me”

“I meant it”

“Yeah fuck shit you meant it”

“I did….I didn’t know you were talking about Ellie”

“I said her name was Ellie”

“I know…..I meant I didn’t know you meant my Ellie”


“I know”

“Then why, how, when?”

“I just met a girl….a girl I liked…and she liked me too…that’s all”

“And she didn’t tell you about me?”

“She did…she didn’t say nice things though….did she tell you about me? I mean how did you find out?”

“You sent a fucking poem and flowers to my house; you didn’t think I would notice?”

“Your house, I thought you were gone”

“And what gave you that impression?”

“Ellie said…she said you were broken up….she said I could have her all to myself”

“She never mentioned anything about it to me”


“Yes fucking really”

“I’m sorry”

“I bet you fucking are”

“What the fuck is going on, why would Ellie lie to me about this?” I thought

“You know I came around here today to beat the shit out of some guy called Jason Domey….I was going to make him hurt like he had never hurt before” Brad said

“I don’t think you should” I hastily replied

“I bet you fucking don’t…fortunately for you I actually liked you when we met…I thought you were nice…I don’t know if I can hit you…I still can’t believe you’re the reason Ellie was withdrawing from me”

“Its not because of me….she was withdrawing from you because you treated her bad…she was withdrawing from you because she wasn’t attracted to you anymore…she was withdrawing from you because she wanted more from life than you could offer her”

Brad then swung a punch which crushed in the side of my skull like someone had just thrown a bowling ball into my ear.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that” I thought as I rapidly collapsed to the ground.

Brad came after me and reached down to grab at me. He missed me as I rolled away, he was too inflexible to get at me quick enough. However he was now in my apartment with the door now behind him. I jumped to my feet and moved quickly to the furthest corner of the room, which had me about six feet away from him. He charged at me, with another big round house punch. This time I was ready and ducked away from it and scrambled to the opposite corner.

“You don’t want to do this Brad” I said

“Don’t tell me what I fucking want to do” he said as he charged at me again, and I again managed to scramble away to the opposite corner. He was much stronger than me, but fortunately very overweight, unfit and slow. Each of these charges left him tired and out of breath quickly. However he was determined and tried again, and again I ducked under and got away.

“Seriously mate this wont make you feel better, this won’t get Ellie back for you” I pleaded with him

Again he charged, again I ducked to avoid his punch, this time however he was ready for my scramble, and he grabbed my shirt. I pulled hard to try and get away from him, but he was able to reel me in, and soon had me wrapped up in a tight, tight bear hug. I struggled back and forth to try and break free, but he was too strong. His arms were around my lower back and holding me too tight to draw in breath. I began to panic.

So I arched my head back as far as I could and drove it forward as hard as I could to smash my head into his. It felt like I was driving along on a motorbike and didn’t see an overhanging branch, which smashed straight into my face throwing me from my bike. Pain raced from my head to my whole body as I fell to the ground from Brad releasing his grip. I lay on the ground briefly trying to regain my breath, as I tasted blood on my lips. I looked up and saw Brad’s face, he had no blood on him, this blood was mine!

Before I could shake off my brief feeling of disorientation, Brad had grabbed me again, this time two hands on my collar and he lifted me clean off the ground, and proceeded to charge me back first into the wall behind him. He then backed off, still holding me, and again charged me into the wall. This time my head and my back were crushed up against the brick. He backed up again, this time further, nearly the whole way across the room, and with fire in his eyes charged for a third time. I reached out in vain hope of grabbing something, anything, which could prevent me from having my whole body crushed again. I snatched at air with my right hand, my left hand though felt the cold of metal, the bunk bed frame, and just as I was about to be a sandwich suddenly I fell to the ground, as Brad too fell to the ground, and the whole bunk toppled over. I rolled to my left, and then climbed over the bed, which was now lying like a divider in the room.

Brad lay on the floor. He was completely out of breath, breathing heavily and weasely, that real throaty breath that old people who have been smoking their whole lives breathe. Unfortunately I was on the opposite side of the divider from the door, so I couldn’t escape. Brad pulled himself to his feet, and slowly began climbing over the bed, which he struggled with the way I would struggle to climb over ..Mount Everest... I sat in the corner shaking, wondering how I could escape this time.

Then I decided, escape was the wrong game plan, I had to fight back, and I had to attack. As brad slumped over the bed wall, and struggled to his feet, I suddenly burst into action, and swung my hardest possible punch, right into his stomach. My hand was suddenly engulfed in a huge roll of fat, like some enormous bowl of jelly, and then gooped back out to freedom. Brad just laughed it off, then again smacked me in the side of the head. This time I remained on my feet and turned back to him drove a straight punch into I think his eye socket.

“You fucking cunt….god that hurts” He yelled

“Plenty more where that came from” I optimistically threatened back

Again I went for the stomach, with a rapid fire raid of lefts and rights. Then he shoved me to the ground, clearly unaffected by this barrage of punches.

I sprung back to my feet as he moved towards me, throwing another big hook, which I was able to avoid, just by arching my back, and watching it whistle by my nose. Then I countered with another straight one right into his ear. He grabbed at his ear in pain, and then looked up at me just as a left uppercut was hitting him under his chin, followed by a straight right into his nose. This one was followed by a splash of blood exploding out of his nostrils.

His eyes widened with his brow narrow in the middle, and his teeth clenched, and he just sprung towards me, not with a punch, but just using his body weight to drive me to the floor. I tried to stand, but as I got to my hands and knees my stomach was met with a massive foot hammering it. I fell to the floor again, and was suddenly plummeted with a series of kicks to the head and arms. The pain was immense and I couldn’t move out of the way at all. Then they stopped. Brad stood over me looking down, his breath all spent, breathing deeply and heavily again, like a marathon runner at the end of the race. He stood there staring at me, just waiting for the energy to attack again, while I lay in pain. Then I saw his eyes drift off me and to the other corner of the room. My chance!

I whipped my arm out reaching forward for my last hope of survival, towards the area which man has both avoided as a sign of respect for his opponent, but then turned to in desperation for as long as fighting has been part of our lives, the grand pole of adventure and his two side kicks, the jewels for which the kingdom was built, the three wise men, the bat and sports bag, the snake and its eggs, the friends to us all, the second brain, the most painful spot on human beings, the soft spot of vulnerability, the remote control and batteries, the rooster and feed bag, the seaman’s ship and his crew, the happy camper and his backpacks, the balls and penis, and I clamped my hand on there like a mountain climber hangs on to a cliff face while an unexpected hurricane blows though. I hung on like a vice hangs onto a piece of wood, like a child hangs onto his last piece of candy, like a pregnant women hangs onto her husbands hand while she gives birth to their triplets after he had said “don’t worry I’ve had a vasectomy”, like a crocodile hangs on to a zebra it has snatched from the river bank, like a vigilantly holds onto the piece of wood he is using to crush in the head of the filthy peeping tom before him, like someone scared of heights holds onto the railing of the bouncing bridge he is on over the rapids of the river during an unexpected gush of wind, like a bank robber holds onto his bag of cash as he runs from the cops as they close in fast, while his partner in crime lays in a pool of his own blood at the bank entrance door, I crushed them like grabbing a big ball of clay and squeezing it so hard that it starts to ooze through your clenched fisted fingers.

At first he struggled a little, he reached down at my head trying to push me off, but all his strength was being sapped by his testicles attempting not to explode. He tried to pull my hair, but couldn’t make a fist to hold it. Then he began to shake, and just swing his arms around. Then just as I could physically feel his balls begin to mush up like mashed potato he let out a scream. Not just any kind of scream, the kind that you make when someone breaks your leg so bad that the knee is bent to ninety degrees the wrong way, he screamed like an opera singer trying to break a glass cup. Then I let go, and he keeled over, and cupped his hands to his nether region, as I leaped over the bed divider, opened the door, and ran down the street like I was attempting to break the world record for the two hundred meters.

I think I had run about a mile as fast as I could before I turned around to make sure he wasn’t behind me, then I realized he probably couldn’t run that far in a whole day, even without having to carry a three times their normal size swollen scrotum bag.

I didn’t know what to do. He was in my house; I couldn’t just leave him there. I turned and began to walk back. I walked slowly, always weary that every person coming in my direction could be him, so I would pause, and wait as they got closer, while my heart beat faster and faster, then I would breath a sigh of relief when it turned out to just be an eighty year old women. It had taken me about five minutes to run the mile away from my house, but I took about thirty minutes to walk it back, still it felt way too soon before I was standing across the street looking at my door.

I couldn’t look in the window, some idiot had spray painted it black, and I was too scared to open the door, in case he was waiting for me there. So I sat and waited, across the road from my own house, for three hours, barley taking my eyes off that front door the whole time. Eventually I realized that he must be gone.

I slowly walked across the street, and put my head to the door, trying to listen for any movement inside. Nothing. Then I suddenly burst open the door, running into the apartment as quick as I could to try and surprise back anyone who was trying to surprise me, then I tripped over one of my milk crate chairs, went face first into the ground, before rolling over and looking up to see an empty apartment.

Something was strange. I couldn’t work out what at first, so I sat down on the sofa to survey the scene. That’s it. “The bed is back up where it is supposed to be” I thought. In fact the whole apartment had been tidied up; it hadn’t looked this clean in weeks. I sat there quietly just thinking to myself, trying to make sense of what had happened, when I realized there was a noise coming from the bathroom, it sounded like water dripping slowly.

I eased open the bathroom door and poked my head in to see a quite unusual site. Brad was sitting in my bath, sobbing.

“Hello” I said

“Hello, you can’t just fucking say hello you idiot” I thought

“Hello” He said back without even looking up

“Are you alright?” I asked, genuinely concerned


Silence, I couldn’t think of a thing to say, completely blank mind

“No I’m not….my life is ruined…I’m sorry, its not your fault….its not your fault I lost Ellie….Its mine…you didn’t deserve to be attacked in your own house….you didn’t deserve to have me come after you….its not your fault you love Ellie, Ellie is the most lovable person I have ever met….I can’t believe anyone would not love her….but I took her for granted….I treated her poorly….I argued with her….I should of treated her like a queen…I fucked up….I always fuck up….I deserved a lot more than what you did to me before you left….I just wish I had of gotten it three years ago….it would of woken me up….it would of made me realize that I had it all, and I was going to lose it, I was giving it away…how could I do that, how could I give away Ellie….Ellie, the best thing that ever has or ever will happen to me….I’m sorry….I’m sorry….I’m sorry….I’m sorry I am still in your house….I cleaned up, and I was going to leave, but then I realized….I didn’t have anywhere to go….Ellie is my home….I have lost her, I have lost my home, I have lost everything” he mumbled through a whimpering chin

“I’m sorry…I never wanted this”

“I know”

“There is only one thing I can tell you….Ellie still loves you…she told me….she loves you, just….just as only a friend though….it’s still love….she told me….she told me that the reason she didn’t break up with you earlier was that she couldn’t bring herself to break the heart of the person she loved most in the world….she couldn’t think of a way to lose you as a boyfriend and keep you as her best friend….I know it’s not much….but you haven’t lost everything….go to her, tell her that you still want to be part of her life…I promise you, you still have a home” I said

“That’s really the truth?”

“I swear to god”

“Then thankyou, I really mean that, thankyou”

He reached his hand towards me, and I put mine out and we shook. It was a very weird experience; I think we had earned each others respect. As we shook he pulled at my hand, and I pulled back to lift him to his feet. He stepped out of the bath, and walked gingerly out of the bathroom and towards the front door. “Maybe I shouldn’t have squeezed quite so hard” I thought to myself, as he hobbled like he had spent the past six months riding a horse. When he reached the door he opened it and turned to me, just looking at me with a look in his eyes I had only seen once before on anyone, a combination of sadness, and hope, and respect, but with that look of being beaten, the last time I saw it was on me, as I looked in the mirror, badly beaten and crushed, but I had made the decision then to improve my life anyway I knew how. I hoped Brad had made a similar decision. I hoped he would find something to help him. “Good luck” I said as he looked at me, he turned and hobbled away without another word.

Three hours later I had a knock on the door, it was Ellie.

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