"No! Crutchy! Scram!" It was Racetrack's voice that caused me to look up.
I looked around, suddenly aware that my comrades were scattering. I quickly stopped dismantling the newsstand and attempted to get my crutch under me. Newspapers were still drifting lazily to the ground as I hobbled to the gate. I can skip along at a pretty smart little clip when i need to, but never as fast as the other fellas.
I think I can make it...uh-oh...
Mounted officers surounded the exits, blocking my escape. I was getting scared, I could see the last of my pals dissapear around the corner. I tried not to let my terror show on my face, without much success. Then I heard a voice behind me. Oscar and Morris. I turned. Start talking, they's no turnin' back now.
"Heya, fellas, how ya doin?"
Evidently they didn't want to talk, because a second later, i found myself without my crutch, and being dragged roughly toward the alley. I started to struggle, still talking a mile a minute, but now unable to keep the fear out of my voice. As soon as we were out of site, Oscar brought his club down hard on my back, sending excruciating pain up my spine and down my bad leg. I gritted my teeth, determined not to cry out. I closed my eyes as Morris delivered three smashing blows to my stomach, but when Oscar twisted my bad leg, I nearly blacked out.
"How d'ya like that, ya crippin' son of a-"
I choked, "C'mon, guys, I-"
Slam!
I smacked up against the wall, the back of my head cracking loadly against the brick. I wasn't gonna last much longer...
"No...please, fellas, I...can't...I..."
Darkness.
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A/N. Wow, this was random. Poor Crutchy. I was thinking about this scene today during school and couldn't get in out of my head. I will probably write about three more chaps for this one, depending on feedback.