Reflections of a swimming bird...
Chapter 1: The night before


This is funny...I never knew it would come to this. I've sat here so many times, and thought of her, but I never realized how much it'd hurt. I feel...broken; It really hurts. And to think, yesterday was just another day...except that the girls were now out of our hair. I still felt ok. You know, 'whatever happens, happens'...but now...fuck it, I'll just start from the beginning...

I never knew what to think of my life, I mean I've never really thought about it before, you know? It's just...there. My mother was killed in a gunfight, and I was too young to care. I used to wonder, if I could feel the loss of her, what it'd be like...((sighs and chuckles slightly))...that's irony for you. As for my father, he taught me what he could, while he could do it. And the rest...Mao kind of filled in for him on that. So if I think back, Mao and Annie were really like my parents. I didn't mind it though; they did a good job, and so it wasn't much different than it could have been.

Once I could really function well and make good choices, Mao started teaching me how to survive. I can remember my fifteenth birthday. Mao gave me the best gifts I've gotten to date...my dad's old Jericho 941 automatic, and a book...The Tao of Jeet Kune Do, by Bruce Lee. He knew I idolized my father, so the gifts were perfect to help me finally get over the loss, and grow from it...you know, feed off of it, and get stronger. That's how Mao was...he knew life had tragedies, but always made sure I was able to sit back, smile, and move on, and still somehow grow from the experiences I encountered. He started to show me the ropes of the business, and began taking me to work with him. I quickly got good at fighting, and my life began to take shape...Bruce Lee had a lot of good ideas, come to find out. Even so, Mao told me not to take it as the universe though...one man's experience cannot shape another man's life. I took what Lee and Mao had given, and began to apply it to my universe. By the time I was eighteen, Mao had decided to let me work under him. He still didn't like putting me in danger, but he quickly learned there was no use; I seemed to find it no matter what the job was. That's when I met him...

Mao and I had been on a collection run to meet with a local butcher who was late on his payments; a routine thing for the others, but rare for us. Since this butcher was a close friend of Mao's he wanted to hear the reason for the delay straight from the man's mouth. After an hour, we left...only with 10,000 woolongs and some nice peking duck in our stomachs. On the way back, we happen to see a fight in an alleyway; a young man was getting the shit knocked out of him by two thugs. Mao hated to see that type of thing, plus I wanted some excitement bad, and an excuse to try out what I had learned, so I leapt in to help.

"You want a real fight?" I said, "Or you want to keep proving to me how manly you guys are by ganging up on an injured kid who's not even fighting back!?"

Pretty impetuous, I know...but that's the only way I like to live.

The thugs took that as a great chance to test out their knives, which was good for me, I needed real combat situations to train in. We took the boy back with us and helped him recover. Come to find out that those thugs had been going at it for ten minutes when we arrived, and the boy had been scared half to death. When he finally came to, and was all healed up, his hair was now completely white. When we asked him how he got to pissing off those two assholes so much where they'd stand there and beat him for that long, he just replied in a scratchy, gruff voice, "One of them sneezed on my sushi the day before...so I cut off his nose. I didn't think he'd have enough blood left to get his friend from the Blue Snakes to find me...Oh well." The boy said it with such passiveness it was hard to believe he was so calm about the whole thing...I felt he was cool enough to be my friend, (even though he was one year younger,) and I gave him his new name, Vicious.