My Own Hands

When Nate came to, everything was blurry. It was pitch black out, save for the dim flicker of lamp posts set up on the curb of the nearby sidewalk. He was leaning against something. No, someone. It was warm, and Nate could feel their heart beating. He was breathing heavily. Why was that again? A pain shot through his head, splitting every thought in half. Clean and fierce like a fiery tiger leaping through a hoard of animals, hopping to and from each, tearing them apart without remorse. Nate clutched his head, but stopped, realizing that hurt more. At the very least, his vision was clearing. Foggy shapes could now be made out, and each color and reflection didn't glare as brightly, blinding him. He placed his hand back down on his stomach. A stain slowly spread throughout the cloth, moistening the skin underneath. Nate looked down. Red. It was blood, probably his own. He looked around some more, yes, that's right, bodies. They didn't look dead, their chests were still rising and falling peacefully and steadily. Nate studied his own wounds, examining the cuts on his face through a puddle of blood at his feet. He looked pretty bad, but no worse than any of the other boys. He was awake, after all. Oh right, of course, someone was next to him. Leaning on him in a way only a comrade in battle could. Who was it again? He glanced over, and gasped.

"Lucus? Lucus! What happened? What are you doing here? Wake up, come on. Wake up! Tell me what happened. I think I blacked out. What the %&#$ happened?" He slapped Lucus's left cheek repeatedly. When nothing happened, He checked his pulse. It was steady. Good. That was safe. Nate slumped back down, sighing and attempting to remember the night before. Thinking too hard only made his head throb, but he pushed through anyway. "Come on you useless idiot. Think. This was obviously your fault. Look what happened because of you. You ruined everything again. Just like you always do. Useless. Useless, useless, useless." Nate banged on his head, dodging the bruised and cut areas. A small target, so he did end up hurting himself a few times. Still, he persisted. What had happened, that everyone had been knocked out, left to their slumber in puddles of blood. Lucus rolled over, he mumbled something before going back to rest.

"Did we, did we win?" It was quiet. Little more than a whisper. That was all he spoke before rolling over and passing out again. Those words were enough for Nate, though. He had fought them. This much stood true. His old gang. The one he had left when he was arrested and the one he abandoned when he got out. He attacked. Reasons were unclear, but it was obviously something on his phone. He still felt pissed off. They were all clearly beat up, but he never could have inflicted so much damage on his own. That was obviously the work of Lucus. Nate laughed bitterly, for some reason. It was cold and steely. Of course it was Lucus. Of course he needed his help. Of course Lucus fought his battles. He didn't want to think these thoughts. He knew he should feel grateful, eternally grateful, yet he just couldn't. Why was he always behind? No. It wasn't just him. Lucus was so great, always so kind and brave. It was infuriating. And Nate wasn't the only one. But it still wasn't Lucus Nate was mad at. It could never be Lucus anyone was mad at. He was right, only the beholder could be the one to blame. The one who stood witness. To bear gratitude, and Nate was grateful. So grateful. But so annoyed at his own helplessness that it drowned it out. Couldn't Lucus see how great he was without looking at his miniscule flaws? Who had won, though? If Lucus was there, they had won, most likely. Nate gasped, as the memories from before flooded back. Foggy, still, but manageable.

He had fought them alone. Just Nate against, 15, maybe twenty guys. It was a big gang even if the numbers didn't reflect current times. They had obviously ditched the rest of the group and would no doubt be punished for it. That's how life in that gang went.

"The way I made it. The rule I created." Nate muttered under his breath. He didn't want to look at the leader's face. The ruined face of a boy he once knew. A name rubbed raw but never faded. Jonathan. A kid who could change, just like Nate was trying to do, only this kid couldn't ever run away. Nate only held a little blot on his record, but Jonathan bore a scar of countless rumors. It had seemed better at the time. Good even. When the world was all a darkness. A ruleless darkness that nobody had ever felt the need to emerge from. Nate had spent the next month washing his hands to remove the stain only he could see. When he thought back, the reason was so dumb. So silly. It was because he broke a rule. He had talked back to Nate. Jonathan had always been taller, so when he refuted something Nate had said, something Nate was wrong about, his insecurities got the best of him. He snapped. Grabbed a pocket knife his friend had been playing around with and lashed out.

"Anyone else wanna tell me I'm wrong?" He had shouted to the crowd. So devastatingly terrifying, and he had prided himself in it. How weak he was now. Only knocking out about half on his own. So much lower than it used to be. Growing soft. A cheap shot from behind was all it took. All it took to bring Nate down. They started ganging up on him. Kicking in a circle, just like he had taught them. You reap what you sow. He had actually started laughing as he thought this. Pain and all, laughter making him numb. They were stupid and young like Nate, bitter and dark. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate them. Not at all. But then Lucus came. Pushed them off, taking so many hits on the way. Oh well, any scars and bruises wouldn't matter to Lucus, still, that was no reason to negate the bravery he held. What a beautiful thing it was. Together they won, fighting over unconscious bodies and blood. So much blood. Yet, they had won. They passed out soon after, but they had won. Nate placed his hand on the moist, hard concrete below him. It wasn't very sanitary, it could be blood, sweat or even some other less than kind fluids, but it was comforting. The imperfections of the world. Nate passed back out soon after getting up and dragging Lucus over to the hospital, but suddenly, growing soft felt like a good thing.