ELI'S P.O.V.

I was considering driving straight home that night after dropping Clare off. No funny business. Just go straight home, to finish my homework, and talk to Clare. In fact, I was supposed to be going straight home. I had to watch Pete tonight so my dad and step-mom could go to the movies with their friends. There were going to leave around nine-thirty, they had said- so as it was only around eight, I figured I had at least a little while.

I wasn't going to go looking for him. I wasn't that stupid. But if I happened to run in to him, I was prepared this time. I didn't have a knife or anything, don't get me wrong. That really wasn't my style. But I was mentally prepared, ready to fight if needed, and even more prepared to smart-ass my way out of everything. I continued to drive around, slowly, gently moving my way down the empty, ominous looking streets.

You're not looking for trouble. I remained myself, trying to picture Clare's disgust if she found out what I was doing. But as the clock turned, minutes passing, my mind urged me to find him, my senses tingling.

Obviously enough, he wanted Clare. And it was unfortunate really for him, because Clare is the one thing that I'd never give up. I drove down the alley where we had first spoken, parking my car in front of the Dot. No way was it suffering damages here. I suppose my mind had settled this for me, that I was going to find him. It's not something I decided at any given time, but rather something that had come over me gradually as my anger replayed and replenished itself, reliving the scene that had unraveled earlier this evening in this exact location.

I wasn't surprised to see him there, still with those imbosols, their rock like features with their slowed faces. He stepped forward first, unshaken. He had obviously sobered up in those few hours, and while not fully recovered, he seemed fully aware.

"Eli." He said, acknowledging me. Nodding in my general direction with a satisfied smirk on his face. "I'm surprised you didn't come earlier."

"Well, I would've you see." I said, stepping closer with each syllable. "But I was with my girlfriend. You know, Clare?" I said, angering him to my satisfaction. "You know; the one that I didn't cheat on? That I didn't leave?"

This obviously was the first and final straw. He lunged at me, first swinging, pushing me against a metal dumpster, but I quickly retaliated, and threw my fist against his jaw. He tried to tear into my skin, a childish, and dare I say feline fighting tactic, but I threw his hand to the side. Even in his slight tipsiness, he was not as aware as me, and I quickly gained the upper hand, managing to throw him on the ground. His two friends hung back, watching the scene unfold rather than help their friend.

"You little SHIT!" He screamed, and tried unsuccessfully to break my jaw. I punched him the gut, throwing my shoulder into his, knocking him backwards. He rebounded off the back wall, and came back with his hand raised, finally making contact with my nose.

Crack.

My nose had obviously been broken, I could tell from the blood and the pain. But I kept fighting, because honestly- I was the one who had something to fight for. Something to prove. He was just a drunk little tenth grader. Nothing to me, and especially nothing to Clare.

And when I told him this, he seemed to lose some of his edge, and he finally backed down. I smirked at him, and turned around, walking back to my car.

It must be almost nine. I thought to myself, and groaned, forgetting that I had to watch Pete that night. I guess I could just, go to the doctors tomorrow, and try to reset my nose myself for the night. I slowly walked back to my car, satisfied that this had gone down. Teach that little shit to mess with me- I began to think.

Suddenly, I heard two sets of heavy feet, fuming, running. I spun around quickly to see the two rocks- the two seemingly harmless henchman, charging towards me. I almost laughed- but quickly regained my stature and began to prepare for them to come to me.

Suddenly, within an instant, I felt a sharp pain enter into my side, as if a thousand bees had dug into one spot on my body. I felt a warm feeling run down onto my shirt, a warm feeling run down into the crotch of my pants.

I had been stabbed.

I breathed in quickly, trying to remember something, anything I had learned about how to handle a situation like this. But I couldn't remember anything, I couldn't think about anything besides the pain. The two henchmen had run away, laughing, carrying on. There were even more drunk then KC, obviously full of liquid courage. I heard KC sick, twisted laugh in the distant, full of pain.

And then I heard car doors slam, the starting of an engine, and the screech of tires.

I was alone.

I was bleeding, and I was alone.

I started to scream.