Chapter 1: The child

On a cold bitter monday afternoon, after a tiring day serving some of the less pleasant customers, heading by foot to the nearest starbucks after work, where I work isn't that significant, but if its interests you I work as a sales assitant at the local ford garage, the pay isn't too bad and the hours are flexible, which is a good thing on this occasion, as the time 3:04pm. The reason for leaving work so early is because I am meeting an old friend. This friend is a man of 21 years of, a year older than myself, who I haven't seen since he left college for university three years ago, he called me three days a go, organising a meeting with myself, as he has passed his course and got his degree. Whilst walking along the pavement passing a corner shop to turn down the street to my right, I see a large crowd, like vultures fighting over a dead prey, curiosity being one of my qualities, although sometimes considered as a flaw, I run straight to the crowd, however as expected I could not see what is going on. "What's happened?" I ask a middle aged lady wearing differant shades of green.

"Oh its terrible, these vicious men are attacking this poor little girl.," she weeps.

"Bastards!" I yell emotionally as I pry two people apart as I use the space to dive into the front of the crowd, where some members of the crowd try to pull some of the attackers away, however they are not fully successful in doing so. "Mark? Mark is that you?" Suddenly the man before me stops attacking the poor child.

"Jack, is that you?" He turns around showing his face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing attacking an innocent child?" However, he is unable to answer my question and continues attacking her, furied by his ignorance, I grab him fiercely by the neck into a 'head-lock' and drag him away, so I could going into the gap left over to take the child into my arms. As soon as I grasp her securely, I run through the crowd and her to safety, as for those men, the crowd prevents them from getting any closer. She is a pretty brunette young girl who looks as though she was about nine years of age, her face covered in blood, cuts and graizes with a broken nose. I put my hand on her chest to see if she gives any signs of repiration, before I am able to, she lets out a weakened groan, as though she was trying to say something, but her voice is too weak for process any sense of what came from her mouth. A reseviour of tears enriched with my empathy crawl down my cheeks, all blood from my face is vacuumed turning my face into an anaemic colour. She opens her eyes to let me know that she is conscious, her eyes shone with a blue innocence, covered in the salt water of her suffering, she lets out a second groan, this time more clear, I managed to catch those two words as "Thank you." Her consciousness and gratitude sent a joyous smile to my mouth and a saddened tingle down my spine as I held her close. What reasons would such people attack a young child, one, who's eyes speak an unforgetable innocence and purity, and why Mark? Mark, the person who I destined to meet over a latte catching up the last three years. Mark was person who would never hurt a living thing, he was like me, a person who desired a better world where we live under the ways of Gandhi and Martin Luther King, where violence was not answer, however from this moment, I could see that this was not his dream anymore. The woman in the green clothing approaches me out of her own curiosity, I passed her the girl, entrusting her with a maternal duty whilst I distance from her.

"Mark!" I yell, with a ferociousness that made the crowd disperse, "What the hell did you think you were doing? She is just a child, what has gotten into you?"

Still unable to say anything, he approaches me avoiding any eye contact, he shows no confidence in approaching me but knows he has no choice. This time my tone turns into a sorrowful way, "Mark, what is going on?"

He hesitates for a moment and takes a small glance at my face and looks away again, before I could repeat myself, he mumbles, "I..I..don't know..." Instead of exploding at the stupidity of his answer, I allow for him to explain himself with questions to guide him, "What do you mean that you don't know?"

"I..I mean, we, you see, these men with me are friends from uni...we were coming to see you...and well I over heard her say something...I can't remember what, then...it happened, beyond my own control, I just jumped on her, and they just followed, I tried to stop myself...but couldn't..."

The approaching sound of police sirens draws louder, which left me to say, "That is very odd, when the police arrive, tell them what you told me, they should be able to find out what it means..." Mark, returning to the person I befriended, complied, knowing he should do what is right, without any selfishness to the consequences.