It was hard business. Hitchhiking, I mean. You'd think that somebody would see a scared seven-year old child all alone and immediately offer them a ride, wouldn't you? Life isn't easy.
Throughout the first half and hour, no-body gave me a second glance, but after a while, people started giving me funny looks, like what is a child like you doing on the streets of London, on your own?But stuff them. I don't care for sympathetic looks. Eventually, some weird-looking dude decides to slow down and stop for me. Thankfully, he is not a druggie or an alcoholic, and is willing to take me as far as Arlington, which is about 5 miles from the centre of America.
This guy doesn't ask any questions, but does irritate me a little, because he keeps on staring at me and giving me looks. Pervert.
For the entire journey, none of us says a word to each other, and I'm relieved when we finally arrive at Arlington.
Thanking the man, I step outside into the fresh air, and continue my journey on foot. Despite the fact that I'm near death-exhausted, I keep going with fresh determination. But just as I'm about to turn a corner, a great wave of noise hits my ear drums. I make a revolted noise. "Pubs", I mutter to my-self. They're full of drunk, rowdy men. But despite my utter disgust, I couldn't resist to have a peek at what the noise was about. As I walked in, my nose promptly experienced the deep smell of alcohol and sweat. I wrinkled my nose but walked forward, nonetheless.
I scanned the room for the source of the noise, and realized that a boxing match was proceeding.
"Men", I thought. "They're all typical, wanting to show off in some disgusting sport."
"You all right, darling? Want some beer?" said an old wrinkler from the right side of me. Argh. So damn disgusting!
I moved forward again, wanting to see the results. My eyes fell onto the two boxers. One of them was a bald headed man with a tattoo on his left arm, and looked quite menacing. The other man had thick, black hair and was slightly smaller than his opponent. As the fight proceeded, I could tell that the first man was losing – and bad.
Dazedly, I watched the men as they fought. Suddenly, the smaller challenger whammed his fist into the other man's groin. The second man grunted in pain and fell down on the hard ground.
As the second opponent was declared as the winner, no-body made a sound. I frowned; there must be some sort of cheering…but there were only the flicker of rolled eyes and annoyed faces. A loud shout struck me back into reality; a man was asking me to move out of the way.
I glanced at the clock and sighed. It was getting late, and I was still standing in the stuffy pub. However, as I stood debating whether I should just wait till tomorrow to continue my journey or keep going now; my legs seem to grow a life of their own. I started walking towards the mini-bar.
From where I was positioned, I could just about make out a figure sitting at the bar. It was one of the opponents; the second man.
As quietly as I could, I sat down beside him. He turned his head at me, but didn't say anything. I guess he didn't actually look at me properly, because he glanced at me again, but this time he looked at me for longer.
I started to get uncomfortable with him staring. "Er, sir? Would you please stop staring?" I asked quietly, without looking at me. But despite my request, he kept on looking at me. I shifted around in my seat nervously. Finally, I sighed and bended my head slightly to look at him. The man made eye contact with me, and saw the uncomfortable look in my eyes. He stopped looking; "Sorry," he muttered.
I smiled thankfully. I was about to say thank you when he asked, "But can I ask why you are on your own?"
I gave another smile. "Well you just did ask," I said through my smile. The man just looked at me, waiting for an answer.
I stopped smiling and sighed. "My mother is here. She's just at the other side of the pub," I said bluntly. I could fluently lie through my teeth.
The fighter looked convinced; evidently, my story had been more than enough to satisfy him. But he still asked, "Where is she?"
With difficulty, I restrained from rolling my eyes, and instead I pointed vaguely in the direction of a group of women. My neighbour nodded and fell silent again.
Just then the bald headed man who was fighting earlier came up to us. He tapped his opponent on the back in a harsh manner and said, "I want a rematch. Now," His voice was low and deep.
I peeked at the black-haired man sitting next to me; he didn't seem at all bothered about this approach. In fact, he hadn't moved a muscle.
I tensed. The bald man stood impatiently, tapping his bulky foot on the ground. I knew that if this man didn't get his own way, he would be angry. And the conversation wouldn't end well –at all.
He opened his mouth to start yelling words of abuse, when the smaller of the two stood up. The bald man opened his mouth again, but instead of shouting foul language he tried a different approach. "I know what the f*** you are," he hissed.
His opponent raised an arm and rammed the bald man into a nearby wall. In the next second, he held his fist close to the bald man's face. "Do you want me to?" the black haired man asked. I frowned at the couple, confused.
The bald man leaned his head slightly away and gulped nervously. And then very slowly – but almost so fast, the smaller man slide long, sharp metal claws from his knuckles. I inaudibly gasped. I suddenly felt weird and sickened by what I saw. Of course, I had previously seen much more horrific things in my life, but they were all usually done by me. I had never, ever seen anybody else do something so…abnormal.
The bald man squeaked in response and shook his head wildly. It was an obvious choice.
The smaller man lessened his grip on his opponent and relaxed. The metal claws slid back into his knuckles, and he backed away. As he turned around and walked towards the door to the pub, I silently questioned whether I should follow him. Cautiously, I walked forward. Stepping back out into the fresh air, I was successfully able to breathe again. In the far distance, I could make out a blob shape that slowly turned into a figure, then a man. I half-ran and half-walked fast to the object.
Mid-way through running, I realized a perfect plan.
