A competition of the Worlds

Anguish

Ander

Raw knuckles scrapped against the pure white of the cotton shirt, red smudging it and staining the pearl color. The sour metallic taste washed away by stinging cold water, only to return a few seconds later. Muffled groans escaping into the harsh winter air as sweat dripped my face and chest despite the freezing temperatures.

My feet stumbled and dragged tiredly against the iced pavement causing me to loose my balance more than once. My eyes glazed over in the darkening black, unable to see through the maze of picked over trash, people sleeping under news papers and half dressed women and woman lining corners of streets hopping to pick up a few bucks.

I barley found my way to the beaten and uneven porch that I knew too well. My knees sunk to the scared, smoky wood, my head finding its way to meet them. My vision blurred then faded completely to darkness.

***

Nixon

Pulling the tattered curtains of the cracked window back to see the the black sky, there was a dark figure laying on my front porch. My heart leapt to my throat as I realized what it was.

Closing the curtains and rushing to the man crumpled on the porch, a gasp left my mouth as I saw him.

"Ander!" I wiped off blood from above his eye brow, I looked over his lean muscular form, smeared in blood. Although some of the blood wasn't his at first glance, the gashes and cuts still had my heart speeding. Bruises where already forming under his eye and along his rib cage.

I lifted him and carried him into the safety of my house, trying not to hurt him any further. He whimpered and moaned in pain as I placed him on the withered couch, I ran to the kitchen soaking a wash-cloth in warm cool water. Beginning to wipe dried blood off different areas of his body, my hands moving swiftly without much thought.

Allowing my mind to wonder back to the days when Ander and I would run the dock that housed the barnacle clad boats that people called homes. Ander would happily count off the water decayed boarding making the dock; 876 total. As we would approach the end of the way Ander would grow quieter in his consistent counting while I trailed behind nodding a hello to the oldies the glared at our childish behavior. 10 boards, always 10. Ander would stop, stare at the greening colored haul, saying a goodbye and shuffling to the lip, climbing on. He would go days sometimes after the dock without going to school or meeting at our secrete tree hideout. Back then I never thought to much of it but as the years went by I slowly started to make sense.

I sat on the ground beside the couch and began to doze off.

--

A sound from above me, startled me awake. I looked up at the beaten boy on the couch finding him in pain as he continued to sleep. Tears ran down his bruised flushed face, putting a hand on his cheek whipping away the salty liquid to quiet him. I wonder how many times when we where younger he cried himself to sleep, only to continue to cry. Ander hated showing anyone weakness, he never did. Even now as tears fell, it was a rare sight, but I'm the closest thing to family he has had. His eyes fluttered open revealing glossy lime-green eyes. Fear flashed across his face as he looked around hurriedly until his face softened.