For all those who've left feedback - you all rock like a big slab of igneous.

The lyrics at the beginning are from the song "Le Disko" by Shiny Toy Guns

I've written better, but meh, posting and all, so you know, badoombah(!) here it is.

Chapter 9B

Hello little boys, little toys
We're the dreams you're believing
Crawling up the walls
Running down your face
Razor sharp, razor clean
Feel the weapon's sensation
On your back...
With loaded guns

My feet smack down on the pavement as I unthinkingly run towards the source of the scream, my heart pounding in my chest, fear for Ashley making my lungs convulse, I know I don't have to go far, but every second I'm not there is another second for something awful to happen.

I reach the alley and my body freezes, the soles of my trainers glued to the concrete, there's a man, about six foot tall, the alley is too dark to see what he looks like or guess his age, but he hold a knife in his hand, it keeps catching the moonlight as his arms wave around, almost manically. He's nervous, that or he needs a fix or something, his movements erratic, his voice as unsteady as his hands, he's shouting at Ashley, he wants her money, her valuables, anything she has that's worth more than ten bucks. She's not moving, I can see the fear in her eyes from where I'm stuck, she's petrified, she wants to comply, but she can't. And I can't let him hurt her.

I want to do something, anything, something useful. I want to leap forward and rescue my damsel in distress, I want to assess the situation, I need to choose the best form of attack, but my mind is covered by a thick fog-like fear, which really fucks me over.

My feet finally move, my body aimed at the assailant, pushing into him, trying to knock the knife from his hand whilst shielding Ashley.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" my voice wavers with fear and an uncertainty, my choice of words horrible.

Ashley falls away, and I pray that she's run off as fast as her legs can carry her; I just want her to be safe. Her attacker seems surprised before focusing his attention on me, knife still very much in his hands. We scuffle, it's confused, hands and legs tangling, trying to gain the advantage, I want to get the knife away from him and he probably just wants to get what he can and then run away from this disaster.

He knocks me backwards, my back colliding with a brick wall, which to be fair, hurts like a motherfucker – I've never been thrown against a wall and I hope never to be thrown against a wall again, aside from managing to bruise the entirety of your back in one fell swoop it also really knocks the wind out of you. It's a major distraction, and when you're fighting a knife-wielding attacker the last thing you want to do is loose your concentration.

I try to recover and grab hold of his arms, unfortunately my attempts and unsuccessful and he shouts something at me. I can see the nervousness in his eyes; he's a good guy who's made some bad decisions, now he's broke, his got a wife and two kids to feed, but with barely any money coming in. What's the harm in jacking a rich kids wallet? His children can eat and a snooty teenager gets a new purse, there's nothing wrong with that right? I can see it all in his eyes, he's disgusted with himself, holding a teenage girl at knifepoint, but he doesn't see another option.

He wants, nay, needs money, and I take pity on him. We're still scuffling and I'm trying to reach into my pocket, he thinks I'm reaching for a weapon, it's instinctive, attack is the best form of defence, I can see it written over the back of his eyes. It happens so quickly, blink and you'd miss it, our bodies are shrouded in the darkness of the unlit alley, but for a brief moment his blade stops shinning, it disappears, out of the reaches of the moonlight. It's so cold and so sharp, sharp enough to puncture and pierce my flesh without force, and it hurts; it slices right through. The blade sits deep within my abdomen for what feels like an eternity and he can see it in my eyes, the muted agony. He can see my pain and I can see his remorse.

The knife rips from my body, it catches the moonlight once more and he thrusts it into his coat pocket, but this time the blade is sheathed in blood. My blood.

My hands shake, thin green bills falling from my opened fist, his eyes are wide with regret and fear as they shift to the money flitting to the ground, he reaches down, grabbing the notes and he doesn't look back as he runs away. The soles of his shoes fiercely smashing onto the pavement, his hurried footsteps getting quieter and quieter as he gets further and further away.

My body lies flush against the wall, pain rocketing through my tummy, and that's when I hear it. A soft sound, it's to my right, her eyes catching the moonlight, she's thanking me, her knight in shining armour, I saved her.

She's hugging me, her body still shaking with fear, her arms so tight around me, I can barely breathe. Every inch of her upper body is pressed against mine, and the pain is almost unbearable, her stomach so firmly pressed against my own, blood still pouring from my stab wound.

She pulls away, thanking me again, but she starts to frown, her hands reaching down, pressing against her own stomach, her fingers coated with blood. My blood. Her eyes widen with fear, mouth opening in horror, and I run, I run as fast as I can for as long as I can. Which in actual fact is neither far, nor fast, my legs getting heavier and heavier as I try and get away.

-----------------

Present Day

By some twisted luck, I managed to make it to the hospital, having lost far too much blood for my own comfort. It was easy enough for the doctors to just get me sewn up, making sure my blood was restocked, they let me go two days later.

My fingers are still tracing the wound. Ashley doesn't take that short cut anymore, and I don't really blame her.

Sometimes I wonder if she knows, part of me thinks that she recognised me, but I know no matter what happened between us, if she had known that it was me who had saved her, I shake my head at my own reflection – she would have found me at my locker, she would have thanked me in person. I know it. I just know it.

The one thing that I learned that day was that I loathe violence and fights, I'm useless in them, I can't defend myself to save my life, internally I roll my eyes – bad choice of words – either way, I can't stand the pain.