The chain link fence clanked loudly, blending in beautifully with an involuntary cry of anguish as a body crashed into it and a hand gripped tightly to keep from falling. Another fist pounded hard into the left side of their head and the tight grip on the cool metal of the fence was released as the body was thrown sideways to the ground.
The ground was as cold and unforgiving as Detroit itself. Things weren't looking to good for the young girl as her attacker administered blow after blow to her ribs. Some kicks were enough to lift her into the air and each one sent her flying into the chain fence behind her. Each crash of her body elicited the clanking of the fence and a sharp cry that wouldn't be held in. No matter how hard she bit her lip to keep from crying out, small noises of pain escaped. He momentarily paused when he heard the telltale crack of a broken bone and his victim suddenly gasped for breath and began to pant and whimper.
"Don't forget what I told you, bitch!" The assailant warned, sending the young girl one last kick to the lower stomach before he ran into the night. Tears of pain had been pooling in her eyes on and off for duration of the attack. She had breathed her way through the pain like her mother had taught her to do, and now being left alone on the ground with a possibly broken rib; she allowed the tears to fall.
Sobs wracked through her body, only administering more pain. She tried to stifle them and master her pain so as to not inadvertently inflict anymore on herself than needed to be. She knew that getting up again was going to be a challenge and a painful one at that. She didn't want to even think about trying to walk to where she knew she had to go. This wasn't just some random attack, but in Detroit things like that aren't uncommon, that man had a reason for bringing this seemingly innocent girl harm.
That didn't mean that she wasn't going to lie here for as long as possible until she was in control of herself. It wouldn't do any good for her to be a right mess when she finally arrived. She knew that her appearance was going to bring hundreds of complications and she needed to prepare mentally for a mental showdown between herself and the holder of her heart.
As she experimented with different breathing patterns (to find the least painful one) she thought about how her life had become so dangerous. She came to the conclusion that it was around the same time that she programmed a drug dealer on her speed dial. This drug dealer just happened to be her boyfriend and he was essentially the reason that she had just been pounded against a fence for the past fifteen minutes. Of course the assault had felt like it had lasted a lot longer than that.
The girl rolled onto her stomach and grimaced as pain shot through her body in convulsions. With a steadying breath she pressed her palms flat against the icy ground and proceeded to push herself onto her knees. The small effort set her back to square one, a mess of tears and gasps for breath. After a brief resting she hooked her fingers into the fence and pulled herself up with her arms while pushing with her feet until she stood hunched over. She leaned heavily on the fence and gently ghosted her fingers over her stomach only to cringe from the waves of pain that crashed down on her.
Touching wasn't such a great idea, she thought to herself as she attempted to stand up straight. Groans became the soundtrack to the once stagnant noise of the cold Detroit night. Resolutely she put one foot in front of the other and slowly descended the stairs. Each step bought a new onslaught of pain and tears as her body shook from impact. Her legs were trembling, the muscles straining under her weight. She knew that they would be decorated with an array of different bruises, both in size and in color. The slight breeze felt like sharp needles prodding at her sodden cheeks.
On her hour and a half long endeavour she saw all that Detroit had to offer. Gangs were haunting the streets; the sight of their unsheathed guns didn't faze her whatsoever. They called out to her and probably made some obscene comments about her mother but she completely blocked it all out. She was a girl with a purpose; to deliver a warning.
When the African American boy had approached her at the park she had immediately felt uneasy. It had nothing to do with racial discrimination but the question he asked her.
"Hey, you hang around with that Mercer kid, don't you?" There was a chilling threat hidden underneath his light and friendly demeanour. He was trying to act as if they had been old friends, completely at ease with a smile that should have been meant to make her feel welcome and familiar with him. She gave a hesitant nod, not wanting to let her paranoia border on rudeness. "Hey next time you see him can you give him a message from me?"
The moment he said that, she knew that she was in deep shit. His eyes told her that this wasn't the kind of message that was relayed verbally. She was going to be the message. Survival instinct kicked in and she attempted to run, she didn't make it too far before he grabbed a handful of her hair and threw her into the fence. He pulled her face back and slammed it into the fence once and revelled in the sound the fence made.
"You tell your boy that he's in deep shit. He fucked up! He better fix it and fucking pay up quick, before innocent people get hurt." His mouth was pressed to her ear and his warm breath made her recoil though she had no room to move at all. He kicked the back of her legs swiftly and twisted her arm behind her; he then turned her to face him with her arm pressed between her back and the fence.
The possible sprained wrist wasn't even a thought compared to her other injuries. The cold air had soothed the cut she had acquired when he had smashed her head in the fence. She wasn't sure how much blood there was and she didn't care to investigate.
She passed by bar after bar, processions of sober and drunk people passed through the doors and none asked her if she was alright. In Detroit it's every man for themselves, regardless if that man was actually a teenage girl considered a child by society. Cop cars drove by idly and none offered assistance, people watched through their windows and no one asked her if she was going to be okay. The most attention she received was from a girl not much older than herself near the bus depot.
"Hey honey, do you know where a working girl could make some money?" She asked softly.
"No, sorry," she lied. She knew where this young girl could make some money. She wasn't sorry at all; she was doing this girl a favour.
The relief felt when she passed by the desolate basketball court and darkened corner store nearly drove the pain away. It wouldn't be too far now. She resolutely continued with her arms wrapped around her middle to preserve body heat. She hadn't expected to be caught outside this late at night. She was usually home right after school unless she was with her boyfriend or at a friend's house.
Today had been different, her boyfriend hadn't been at school and she had gotten detention for being flippant to an authority figure. He would have been proud of her. She had left school at half past four and had missed the bus that would have gotten her on home in time. Going home now was futile; she would be turned away from her own home. Things had changed drastically since her father had gotten out of jail.
When she finally arrived at home it was half past quarter to six. Dinner was late, because she hadn't been home to make it. She had been late and not told anyone that she would be late. She was turned away from her home by her father and her mother watched with apprehension. When this happened her mother tried to ease her guilt with the thought that if he wouldn't let their daughter come home that there were at least three places her daughter was always welcome.
One was her grandmother's house, the second was the Mercer household and lastly there was always church. Their doors were always open.
She wanted to get to her grandmother's house before her grandma had finished dinner. The quickest and most risky way to do that would be to cut through the park where a lot of thugs and wannabe thugs hung out. A lot of dead bodies turned up in that park and a lot of showdowns took place on the field. That's where she had been approached and beaten up, by the tennis court. That event had changed her course to halfway across town. It would have been easier to take a bus, but she didn't have any money for that luxury. Shit if she had bus fare she would have just taken the bus to her grandma's house and walked a block.
The Mercer house loomed up ahead looking more heavenly than ever. Her uninjured hand gripped the railing to the stairs tightly as she pulled herself up. She wanted nothing more than to collapse right then and there on the front porch, but she had to warn her boyfriend. She knocked feebly on the front door and leaned heavily on the wall beside the door.
Light pooled out of the open door and illuminated her. Her eyes, so familiar with the darkness of night, shut in pain before they adjusted to the brightness.
"Julia," she gasped, "did your father do this to you?"
"No Ms. Evelyn, is Jack home?"
"Jackie, come here!" Evelyn Mercer called over her shoulder distractedly for her youngest son. "Come in baby girl, come in." She gently ushered Julia into her home.
"Ma, what is it?" A shockingly deep voice asked from the top of the stairs.
"It's Julia and she's hurt, Jackie go and get the first aid kit and meet me in the bathroom." Evelyn helped Julia begin her descent up the staircase. It was a slow and painful process and when they got to the bathroom Jack was already in there with the first aid kit.
"Jesus, what happened to you, Jules?"
"Not now Jackie, you can grill Julia for information later. Here sweetheart, sit on the edge of the bathtub and let me look at you. Jackie, pass me the disinfectant and a cotton ball, will you baby? I need to clean this nasty cut." Jack handed his mother two cotton balls in his rush and the bottle of disinfectant. Evelyn crouched down in front of Julia.
"Jack," Julia whimpered, he wordlessly let her grip his hand as his mother applied the disinfectant to the cotton ball. Julia flinched as Evelyn cleared away the dry blood and the disinfectant began cleaning her cut. Julia could be weak now, she wanted to be babied and looked after. There were very few times that Julia could be vulnerable and with Evelyn she was always able to let down her facade and be scared and flinch when she was in pain. Evelyn wouldn't judge her. A band-aid was pressed to the cut and Julia released Jack's hand and let out a slow breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
"Jackie, can you go downstairs and get something from the freezer for Julia's eye? We'll want to get that swelling down." Evelyn said this last sentence to Julia, since Jack had taken off to the kitchen at the word 'freezer'. "Where else?"
Evelyn was such a smart woman. With a sigh Julia stood and pulled her fitted t-shirt over her head to reveal a multitude of purple, green, blue and yellowing skin around her stomach. A large bump interrupted the smooth skin of her stomach looking vengeful and angry under the cover of the largest and darkest bruise.
"Honey, we have to go to the hospital. That could be a break." Evelyn murmured, her fingers moving through the air around the bruising. She was scared to touch Julia for fear of causing her more pain than needed.
"Please Ms. Evelyn; can you take me tomorrow morning? I don't think ten hours could hurt too much. I just want to sleep, please."
Evelyn stared deeply into Julia's shining light hazel eyes and made her resolve.
"I'll go get the tenser bandage so we can wrap you up. We're going to go to the hospital first thing tomorrow morning. I'll go call your doctor and see if we can't just book you an x-ray appointment instead of waiting around for lord knows how long in the ER."
Evelyn pushed herself back onto her feet and disappeared into the hall, leaving Julia alone in the bathroom. Jack arrived a few seconds later with a bag of frozen vegetables.
"Here," he muttered, pressing the bag to her eye gently. Julia lifted her hand and pressed it over Jack's. He couldn't drag his eyes away from her stomach and the bruises that marred her fair skin. He paid no mind to the fact that she was before him in a purple lacy bra. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Hold me, please. Kiss me; stop looking so tortured and angry." Jack slipped his hand into her layered burgundy hair and trapped her bottom lip between his lips and then turned his attention to her upper lip and gently sucked on it. Julia's hand gripped his shoulder tightly and slanted her mouth under his as he pressed both his lips to hers. She was suddenly aware of how moist his mouth was compared to hers and how tense he was under her touch.
Jack pulled his mouth away from Julia's but allowed his fingers to stay tangled in her hair.
"Tell me what happened."
"This guy came up to me in the park and he asked me if I hung out with 'that Mercer kid' which I could only assume meant you. I didn't know what to do so I nodded and he told me to deliver a message to you. He said that 'he fucked up and he has to fix it and pay up before innocent people get hurt.' Jack, what's going on?"
"Julia, I-" Jack began.
"Alright sweetheart, let's get you wrapped up. Are you hungry baby? Jackie will go make you a sandwich if you are." Evelyn offered, entering the bathroom. Julia tore her eyes from Jack to glance at his mother and then back to her boyfriend.
"Grilled cheese, please?" She asked softly, Jack jutted out his jaw and nodded stiffly. He placed a chaste kiss to her lips and Julia allowed him to pull his hand free from the frozen bag pressed to her eye and he gently freed his hand from the jungle of soft tresses. He stalked out of the bathroom toward the kitchen and Julia knew that their conversation would be far from over.
"Alright honey, try and stand up straight while I wrap this around you. It's going to hurt because it has to be tight to keep your ribs together."
"Ms. Evelyn, there's one more thing." Julia gasped as Evelyn had almost finished wrapping her chest.
"What is it?" Evelyn asked while pinning the tenser bandage.
"I think I might have sprained my wrist."