Guts Over Fear

Uncouth

A scene from "The sea of tranquility" flashes in my head. The part where she confessed, in the brink of death, at that moment where the lines between death and life were blurred, she saw a garage, the garage that turned out belonging to Josh, who years later was proved to be her other half and soul mate. That is, if one is to believe such things.

But unlike what happened with Nastya, I wasn't at the outskirts of being no more, neither did an image of a place fill the screen of my subconscious.

The next several years of my life start unfolding in my head. Nothing too specific, relevant details, as expected, veiled. The unaccounted for assault on my brain threatens to swallow me whole, a fracture about to shatter everything that makes me who I am. But that doesn't happen, instead I watch, mesmerized as different locations, scenes, people and emotions are displayed.

It's a precarious situation. They are like flashes of light, too sudden to be sure if they really happened. The appeal isn't slightly degraded by the fact, though.

A certain constant. A single thread. Everywhere, at every turn of time, something remains. Unchanged. Till the end. Until finally I jolt awake from my...whatever that was, and a realization settles. With a blink signaling my alertness, I decide on exactly what to do.

          /

"Not much of a man when daddy's not around, huh?"

The light that shines from the various bulbs in the room seems to really pierce into my eyes, making it difficult, at least for a while, to distinguish my surroundings, my sense of vision unwilling to co-operate. As for audition, that was a totally different story. It was as if it was working overtime, filling in for my loss of sight.

"Your brother didn't seem to think so. His whimpers of pain were music to my ears, his cries of pain a blessing all by themselves. The sight of his insides..."

A grunt of pain, which followed the undoubtable crunch of breaking. The sound of a nose breaking. A gurgle, of blood accumulating, accompanied by spitting, of fore-mentioned blood no-doubt.

The last moments before I passed out resurface. 3 scary guys showed out of nowhere and started circling us, like wolves do a prey. Jospeh alone wasn't going to get us out of the mess, which I have no doubt he put us in in the first place, so a mental pep-talk was imminent.

"What's the plan?", I had slowly whispered in Joseph's ear, thinking maybe he had a plan.

A chuckle had followed my inquiry, first Joseph's, then that of our aggressors. Maybe I was louder than I had originally intended, but still, I didn't like the look of incredulity all 4 guys were wearing on their faces. And the next thing that happened pissed me off to no bounds.

Joseph's plan, the pompous moronic demon that he was, happened to be knocking me out before the action started.

Two scenarios were quick to form. Either he thought I was a liability or ...well, or he was in on the whole thing. Luring me out of my den, away from campus, into an alleyway, for purposes too numerous to address all one by one. The flaws in the latter were obvious, that it was still done in broad daylight, and the  roads adjoining to the alley were not even abandoned.

But what can I say? Logic wasn't what was leading to my decisions at that time. Fear was. Crippling as fear was, the fact that I was even capable of coherent thoughts is an ordeal all by itself.

"Motherfucker... when I'm done with you...owww, you'll regret the day you were born!", blah!blah!blah! How original!

"How ...original!", purrs Jospeh.

Great minds think alike. Or suicidal ones in this case. I shake my head. Again, a stupid move.

"Look who decided to join us? How's that head doing sweet thing?"