Missing The Mark ✔

3

Bird and I lived together in a small house; nothing huge and extravagant. There are two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen, and a living room. I had met Bird back in high school, when he crashed into me in the halls, while his then-girlfriend yelled at him for something I didn't even care for, and from then we were inseparable. To be frank, I don't even remember when the 'inseparable' part came into play. After that incident, we somehow began noticing each other -- it started with a 'hey' in the halls, then a 'what's up', then a 'what's your name' and for our following interaction we were already friends. He was cool, and so was I, and that was that. Everything I got myself into, he was there for me, and I decided I wasn't supposed to lose a friend like that. We dropped out together at the beginning of the senior year. Bird got us a place, this one, and we're still here. I've never done anything illegal illegal.. just very small scams. Nothing too crazy, nothing too serious. Nothing that would put me in jail, I think.

Today, Bird is out. He claimed to be going out with his girlfriend, but part of me doesn't believe that because well, he's Bird. Girlfriends never actually stick. And since he's been talking about this 'girlfriend' for a while now, I don't believe it. So he's out doing whatever he's out doing, and I'm at home.

I walked around the house naked for a while, not really sure how to spend the day, then I finally put on a pair of pants and squatted down in front of the television. The knocking on the door had me looking away from the television in confusion. I stared behind me at the door, simply because in this neighborhood no one knocks. The only people who actually knock on your door are either the cops or someone from out of town, and since no one from out of town ever comes to us, it's obviously the cops.

I got up slowly, trying my hardest not to make a sound, and ran up the stairs. The thing about our place is that there is no back door--we were supposed to install one but we never actually bought the door. Upstairs, however, there was a door and an old rickety staircase made of woof. It's absolutely dangerous and would never stand my weight, especially if I run, but, at least I won't be face to face with cops. Despite the obvious warning signs telling me not to go down those steps, I decided it was the only way to get away from the cops, so I ran toward the door. I tugged it open and rushed down the stairs.

Just as predicted, the old, wooden, beaten-out stairs went crashing down, while I was halfway down them. There was an obnoxious loud crash as we fell and I cussed softly--half in pain, the other half in annoyance that I didn't think about the noise it would make when it fell. I managed to get up from all the broken-down wood and limp my way out of the yard. Then suddenly I heard someone shout after me, and without even looking back, I knew I had to run.

Despite the throbbing pain in my ankle from the fall--and the slight pain in my rib and my arm--I found myself sprinting down the road. I heard the voices calling after me and as I ran, it felt like either I was getting nowhere or their voices just grew louder. I thought to myself, Am I even running as quickly as I think I am?

My question was definitely answered, because not long after, I was on the ground and some larger being was on top of me, trying to get me to stay steady. I flailed my arms and legs about, then turned around so that my back was to the ground and I could see who was attacking me. It wasn't a cop. It was a blonde guy with angry grey eyes. I rose my knee to his crotch with all the strength in my body, which I'm certain wasn't much, but it distracted him long enough for me to get out of his grip. I slipped out like an eel and quickly got back up and started my run again. However, just as I reached the corner to run into town, the guy from yesterday popped out of nowhere, grabbed me around my waist, and threw me backward onto the concrete.

What the hell is he doing here? They beat his ass yesterday! Why does he look so healthy and strong (and sexy)? He wore a white top, which was slightly damp with sweat, along with a pair of jeans. His hair looked wet as well, and I noticed a transparent bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. His face looked beautiful. Angry, but beautiful. His jaw was prominent, his eyebrows furrowed and his brown eyes only held hatred as he glared at me. I was definitely afraid, but kind of turned on as well. 

Why is he here? Where are the bruises? Where are the bandages? I am 100% certain the way they took him down yesterday, that there should be no way he's up and running. That's insane. What is he? Superman?

His blond friend came up to us and so I was trapped. I could run off the pavement and into the street to go across the road, but they probably might catch me before I even make the first move to the left--with my busted-up ankle and whatnot.

"What the hell, dude?" I got up to my feet, with no help from either of them and a lot of struggling. I couldn't step back from him because his friend was right behind me, so I was stuck.

"How are you here?" I asked him then glanced back at his friend just to make sure he wasn't going to hit me in the back of my head with a club.

"We should kill you," he said in the most vile tone.

"Now why would we do that? That won't really benefit any of us. You'd go to jail and I'd die and I don't think either of us want that. Don't kill me." I need to get out of here. I'm almost certain this guy would kill me. His friend looks hungry for blood, just as hungry as the two guys did yesterday when they almost committed murder.

"You don't deserve to live after what you did to my brother." He took a step closer to me, making me want to step back and away from him, but I didn't want to be any closer to his friend. 

"Brother? He had a brother?" I spoke mostly to myself. I stared at him and furrowed my eyebrows. Oh shit. He's got a brother. I got the wrong brother. And just then it hit me. The picture I found of the family in their kitchen. Two of them were identical--and this angry brute was one of the identical twins. My eyes widened for a split second but then I realized I couldn't stand there and stare all day. I have to do something.

Why is the street suddenly empty? Where is everyone? Can't anyone see these two guys ganging up and me? Shit, I guess this is how his brother felt yesterday...

I zoned in just in time to see his fist rising and ready to punch. I ducked, even though he hadn't yet moved his hand. "Wait, wait, wait! Stop. Dude, what are you doing? You can't punch me."

"And why not?" he asked, his fist still up. I swallowed as I stared at it. What the fuck am I doing? I raised my hand to grasp his fist and tried to put it down, but it remained, unfortunately. "Because I already feel super guilty. I have to live with myself and my conscience. I feel like an asshole. Isn't that enough?" I wasn't lying... exactly. I mean a part of me kind of feels a bit terrible -- they assaulted an innocent guy. But the other part doesn't feel as bad because I didn't do it. I didn't lay a hand on him. Honestly, if he wants to take it up with someone he can take it up with those two semi-murderers that Bird calls friends.

"No. I want to see you hurt just as much as my brother is hurting right now."

"I am. Look, I sprained an ankle while running from you two clowns." I said and looked down. And my rib and my arm -- so I would think we are even. He clearly was not interested in my words and he rammed his fist forward, making me duck just in time. Just as I was going to run off, his friend grabbed me around my waist again keeping me in place. Okay, now I'm screwed.