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It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to defend himself.
Sharp stabbing pains pierced his skin in flares of agonising heat. His hands were stained crimson with his own blood as he clutched his stomach; the pain only worsened with the simple action, but his body had curled in on itself like a vulnerable animal, making him scramble for any form of relief. The erratic drumming of his heartbeat was mixing sickeningly with the ringing of his ears. He felt as if he was underwater; the commotion around him was drowned out by the sound of his unsteady breathing. Quickly, he blinked open his eyes – the blue orbs glancing around him in a pitiful attempt to reboot his senses. Defenceless. He felt defenceless – more than he had ever felt. To feel safe was something he couldn’t quite remember the sensation of. He couldn’t quite remember anything. “-ack, can you hear me? Jack?” A soft voice swam into his ears, the deep rippling of the speech barely audible over the waves of torture from his abdomen. Nevertheless, he focused on channelling his sight, to see something – anything, over the black spots swelling in his vision. A blurry figure, he could see. But it was dark; barely visible at all. Sudden blasts of aches from his stomach interrupted him, his legs cowering to fold against his chest and his eyes clenched shut. He couldn’t feel anything apart from the needles penetrating his torso, the dramatic heat like fire prickling his body. Desperately he let out a strangled whimper not unlike that of a crying puppy. “Help’s on it’s way, okay? Stay with me Jack.” The previously calm voice had swiftly become highly distressed, raised louder and with undertones of aggression. But it wasn’t aimed at him, he could sense that. Slowly he cracked open his eyes, the hazes easing slightly as he fixated his gaze onto a spot on the concrete. He felt a warm body move him so that he was sitting on the person’s lap, protective muscley arms wrapping around his chest so that he was pinned securely, unable to move. “Don’t look at it, don’t look at it.” The man whispered, his voice strong and confident despite the hot blood pouring from Jack’s stomach. Jack ignored the voice, drowsily tilting his head down to analyse the dark red liquid surrounding his body just above his hips. His white shirt was torn open and, in its place, a painful tear of his skin. The laceration was deep. Too deep. He dropped his head onto the man’s shoulder, leaning into his build weakly. His arms had dropped to his sides like he was gradually melting, his legs no longer pressed against his chest but spread across the concrete as he sat in the embrace of his best friend. “Jack – hey, keep those eyes open! The ambulance is nearly here – they’ll fix you. And they’ll find who did this. Did you see his face? I didn’t see his face!” The voice bellowed; Jack felt the sturdy chest behind him vibrate against his back with every livid word. He turned his neck slightly so his head was tucked into his best friend’s neck, the scratchy stubble of a growing beard becoming oddly reassuring despite the fresh blood from his wound coating his pale skin more and more with every shallow breath. “Freddie…” Jack strained to speak, immediately coughing; the harsh movements intensifying the agony. Tears began to stream down his face, leaving silver tracks across his cheeks and falling from his chin to blend with the metallic liquid that had puddled around the two men. “Don’t speak, Jack.” Fredrick’s voice wobbled, hugging Jack tighter as if it was his last hug ever. Which it might be, Jack thought. The distant clamour of sirens could be heard over his raspy breathing, nearby buildings flashing red and blue in the inky canvas of the night. He tried and tried again to keep his eyelids open. To let his ocean blue eyes light up in excitement as he would finally spot the tennis-ball coloured vehicle that would take him to safety. He tried. But he failed. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to defend himself, even though he’d never been in a fight in his life. Simply, he knew that, when it came down to it, people often act with a knife.
