The Big Fight 2

We quickly met up and wasted no time, sprinting towards Darjan's school. Arriving at our destination, we discreetly waited for the school break to begin, ensuring a moment of privacy for our mission.

With a confident smile on my face, I approached one of the teachers in the school building.

"Excuse me, do you happen to know which class Darjan is currently in?" I asked politely, trying to appear innocent.

"He's in Class 108. Are you his friends?" the teacher inquired, unaware of the true nature of our intentions.

"Hahah, yeah, something like that," I responded with a sly smirk.

Having obtained the information Eman and I sought, we made our way to the classroom where Darjan was located. As we opened the door and entered, all eyes turned toward us, curious about our unexpected presence. Eman's frustration finally erupted, and he shouted out in anger.

"Darjan, give us our fucking money, you piece of shit!"

"What money, bro?" Darjan responded, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

"You fucke-- Huh, Dionis?" Eman's rage was halted as I intervened, stopping him in his tracks.

"Darjan, you may think you're clever, but you have no idea how screwed you are right now," I said, grabbing him by the hair and delivering a punch to his face.

He retaliated, attempting to strike me, but Eman pushed him away, causing Darjan to stumble and fall to the ground, reduced to tears.

"My father will kill you, fucker! Hahaha, you're dead!" Darjan threatened, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperation.

"We'll see about that," I calmly replied, asserting our dominance as we left the school premises.

Determined to reclaim what was rightfully ours, we decided to pay Darjan a visit at his home the following day. We rang the doorbell, and as it swung open, a look of sheer terror washed over Darjan's face. Without delay, Eman threw a punch at him, and we forcefully entered his house. Our objective was clear: find the money. After searching meticulously, we finally located it. I retrieved the stolen funds and just as we were leaving the house, Darjan's father stormed into his home from the store.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house!?" he shouted, his fists clenched in anger.

In a moment of shock, he let go of his groceries and swiftly sprinted towards us, his fists clenched and ready for action. Observing the situation, a thought crossed my mind, reassured by the numerical advantage of our 2v1 position, "This should be easy," I silently reassured myself.

That's what I thought but of course nothing ever goes as planned in life. While we were fighting his father, from behind Darjan grabbed a knife and ran to Eman stabbing him in the back. reacting quickly, I grabbed him and threw him onto the dinner table, landing a powerful blow to his face making it crooked. With only his father left standing, Eman, now injured, found himself overpowered. In a split-second decision, I jumped onto his Darjans father back, applying a chokehold. He retaliated by slamming me against the wall, taking the air out of my lungs. But even in the midst of my own suffocation, I refused to relent. Eventually, his strength waned, and he collapsed to the ground, defeated.

"Shit, Dionis, help me! I'm dying! Call an ambulance!" Eman pleaded in desperation lying in a couch.

"Fuck, I can't call an ambulance. We'd end up in jail," I replied, torn between the urgency of the situation and the consequences we would face.

"What the fuck are you going to do then!? Leave me to die here!?" Eman's voice quivered with fear and pain.

"No, I'll do what I can. Lie down on the bed and let me take a look at your wound"

Carefully, I assessed Eman's wound. He was lucky it didn't hit any vital organs. Aware of the limited resources at hand, I retrieved a bottle of vodka from Darjan's fridge and poured it over the wound, causing Eman to wince in agony.

"AHHAJADGKAD FUCKKKKK!!!!! IT HURTS LIKE A BITCH AAASHJKAAA" he screamed at the top of his lungs, through clenched teeth.

"FUCK JUST HOLD ON FOR A MINUTE, LET ME WATCH A YOUTUBE VIDEO ON HOW TO OPERATE ON A STAB WOUND"

"YOU'RE FUCKING CRAZY, DIONIS I'LL DIE HERE WHILE WAITING FOR YOU, FUCK I'M SCARED"

I was scared as well, but I didn't show it. I watched an Indian talk about medicine for 5 minutes on YouTube and gained some basic knowledge about stitching wounds.

Searching Darjan's house, I was relieved to stumble upon a pack of stitches. Without hesitation, I began the delicate process of operating Eman's wound.

"AHASHFJAKGHA" his screams shook the room, making it even harder for me to concentrate.

I could understand his screams, he was being operated by someone who doesn't have the necessary skills, and to make matters worse, he was operated without any anesthesia.

Eventually he passed out from the combination of exhaustion and agony. When he finally regained consciousness, I had completed the operation, and it had been a success. As he stood up from the couch he saw me on the ground sweating and with bloody hands. All of this had transpired within an excruciating half-hour, leaving the father and Darjan still unconscious but soon to wake up.

Taking a deep breath, I sprinted to the bathroom. Once there, I quickly washed my hands and the sink, ensuring I left no evidence behind. Then, i took the stolen money and collected any valuable items I could find in the house.

With Eman's injury hampering his speed, we dashed back home as quickly as we could, despite the slow progress, but I couldn't blame him since he was stabbed. After a while of sprinting, Eman went to his home, and I went to my own.

Upon arriving home, my parents immediately noticed the bruises that adorned my face.

"Why do you have bruises again?" my mother asked, her voice laced with concern.

"I got into a fight with my friend," I lied, concealing the true nature of our activities.

My mother warned me about the dangers of associating with such individuals, oblivious to the fact that I was the mastermind behind it all.

Yearning to find comfort, I locked myself in my room, the stolen money spread out before me. I was surprised at the fact I made 3000$ from the weed and an extra 500$ I stole from his house. However, any glimmer of happiness was quickly overshadowed by a sense of emptiness.

"Fuck, this shit sucks, man, I don't know why tho" I murmured, without realizing that the path I had chosen was one of darkness and despair.