Category Archives: Charlie Wade

Friday Night Fun

You don’t know why you didn’t get a taxi. You normally do. Something about saving money. But saving for what? It doesn’t seem worth it now.
+++++He’s standing there, staring at the bus timetable. You think his four brain cells are trying to work out what it means, when the next bus is due. You can’t stare though, that’s what he wants. That’s what he’s known for. Eyes down on the pavement. Your shoes are scuffed. Good night out, that’s what they’ll say. Did you get lucky in some alleyway? No, you didn’t. You got unlucky in a bus stop.
+++++He’s shaking his head at the timetable now. Probably can’t fathom it. From the corner of your eye you see his muscles tense. He’s only wearing a t-shirt. It’s freezing. Everyone else has a coat on, but he doesn’t look cold. Apart from his face, but that’s a different kind of cold. The worse kind.
+++++You sense he’s looking at you now, studying your face. You feel your cheeks burning. You want to look back at him but you don’t. You want to look at the bruise above his eye, the knife scar on his cheek, but you can’t. You want to smile. I’m just like you, you want to say. Waiting for the bus, that’s all I’m doing. But you know he wants more. You know he’s bored. You know how he entertains himself when he’s bored.
+++++There’s someone else sat next to you. About your age. He’s wearing a coat too. He could be one of your mates. But you’ve never met him. You can smell fear leaking from him. You can see him shift nervously in his seat. You don’t know him, you never met him. You wouldn’t ever want to harm him, but you want it to be him. If there’s got to be a victim, you want it be him.
+++++“What you staring at?” he says. You keep your eyes down. You notice the laces on your left shoe are crooked. They don’t match the right one. No symmetry.
+++++“Oi. I said what are you staring at?”
+++++The bottom of your trousers are frayed were they meet your shoes. You think you’ll buy some new ones next week. The man next to you is looking at his feet now. You think he’s looking at his own laces.
+++++He walks over towards you. Your heart misses a beat. He carries on past you. You can see his shoes. He stops in front of the other man.
+++++“I said, what are you staring at?”
+++++You sense look up. He looks at him, looks at the psycho. You tense your own muscles, you know what’s coming next. The punches start flying. You can hear them connect with his face next to yours. You feel a liquid hit your cheek. You know it’s blood. You’re still looking at the floor. There’s a piece of chewing gum trodden into the pavement. You wonder how long it’s been there and whose mouth it came from.
+++++The punches are still flying. He’s shouting no and please help but you still look at the gum. Blood’s trickled on top of the gum, right next to your shoe. You want to move away. But you don’t. What you really want to do is help, but you can’t. You’re frozen. You want to help him, to stop this, but you can’t.
+++++A flash catches your eye. You daren’t look, but you know what it is. A knife. He stabs him. You can hear the lunges penetrate the skin. You can see more blood dripping to the floor next to your shoes. Next to your clean but scuffed shoes.
+++++It stops.
+++++The knife clatters to the floor. He starts running. You want to turn and help the man but you can’t, not yet. You wait a few more seconds then turn. His head’s covered in fresh bruises and blood. Red’s gushing from a hole in his chest. Every breath pushes more blood out. You apologise. He tries to speak but he’s too weak. You’re convinced he’s trying to say don’t worry. You know he’d have down the same for you, he’d have done nothing too. That’s what you tell yourself as you stand up and walk away.