I enjoyed watching Doug sell; his grin had the few women out there flocking. As the day wore on he started rolling down his socks and taking off his layers of shirts. By the end of the morning he had just a white undershirt left on, it was unbuttoned almost halfway down his chest. It glistened with a layer of sweat. I found myself staring at him whenever he was busy looking around.

When we arrived back at the meeting spot I saw Curly talking to the others. The loud mouth wasn't with him, and after a sneer in my direction, he left the group and headed back into a crowd. I followed the others as they headed to find food. We found a small place that wasn't as packed as the others. I looked at what they all ordered, and my stomach churned at the site of a sickly piece of gray sausage on a roll. I hated to waste my money on something so gross, but I didn't want to look poor, so I got one anyways.

The others started eating while walking, Blink taking a big bite of his as he walked next to me. He looked up and smiled at me while chewing. I brought mine up to my face and sniffed it. I could feel my stomach tighten as a wave of nausea hit me.

I saw the man in front of me stopping, and decided to bump into him. I fumbled the lunch around in my hands and let it fall to the street. "Damn" I whispered, glad to be relieved of that burden.

My ever-giving friend next to me immediately offered up some of his sausage My throat tightened at his words, along with other potentially embarrassing places located a little lower on my body. I heard Topper snickering behind me, and could feel the heat building in my cheeks. When I leaned forward to wipe my hands on my pants (and adjust my pants), I made sure to 'suddenly' lose my balance and step back onto his foot.

"Damn it can't move with all these people."

There was no where to stand where we could see the ring well. Especially not myself, being the shortest by several inches. I soon gave up watching. When Kid handed me his lunch, I ripped off a small section of it to eat.

I listened to Train and Jack talking about where they could find some cheap liquor. The leaders of Queens, Flushing and the Bronx were joining us later tonight, and they wanted something cheap but strong, so they could water it down and have enough.

Jumper and Topper sat their dutiful few inches apart on a crate writing back and forth. They liked passing the pen back and forth, and their hands kept making more contact than was needed to do so. They would never do anything obvious in front of anyone but the few Brooklyn boys who knew. Jumper had his head tilted in toward Topper as if he was physically resisting the temptation to rest it in its usual spot on his friend's shoulder.

I watched Kid as he gazed on to the fight. I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from him as he clenched his fists and tightened his muscles, twitching along with the fighters.

I kept smoking cigarettes while trying to choke down bites of the sausage. I had a pattern down to one bite, then one third of a cigarette. At the rate I was going, I'd need another pack.

I heard the bell ringing for the next match, and heard Topper shout out another of his typical Irish jokes. Since I didn't want to get another heated battle over it, I decided to solve two problems at once and chucked my remaining food at him.

"Ahh, Shut your mouth."

I headed over to Train, who had signaled me for some of my smoke. I handed it off to him as I listened to his conversation with Jack. As I listened in on them I heard Blink gasp from behind me.

"Jesus"

Everyone but Jumper hurried over beside him. I stood on my toes to look over their shoulders. I felt my heart stop. It was the face in my nightmares, the face that I saw every time I walked alone down a dark street in Brooklyn. I felt cold inside and heard my voice say "Brick", though I don't know how considering I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't look at him, I couldn't look at my friends, all I could see was the ground coming up to swallow me whole. I stepped back to get away from it, but felt myself sinking backwards. As I landed on my back, I felt a sickening remembrance of pain. I heard his voice in my head. I got up and I ran.

As I ran I could feel his hands on me. I could feel the pain in my shoulder as he wrenched my arm behind my back. I felt the crushing in my chest as he threw me up against the walls of the shower. And I ran faster.

I felt the pain in my knees as he shoved me to the floor. I turned the corner to get away from him, and I ran into a gate. I braced myself against it as I felt the searing pain behind me, and felt my soul dying. I fought to block it all from my mind as I heard a voice behind me. It was his voice, him grunting as I wept in pain, begging him to stop hurting me.

Then there was silence. I thought it was over; then I felt his hand on my shoulder, just before it was about to shove me into the wall and send my head spinning.

But this time, I was stronger, this time I could fight back. I wasn't going to let him keep hurting me every time I closed my eyes. As he put his hands on me, I spun around to fight him off. I felt my hand hit his face before he stumbled back away from me.

I thought it was over, but I felt him rush at me again, his arms around my waist. He was touching me again. He was back for more; he would hurt me, and he would kill me. And then he would kill My Doug. I kept swinging with every ounce of my strength, my lungs burned, chest ached. The searing pain behind me; the source of the pool of blood beneath me in my dreams. All I could see was that blood. Everything was red.

I felt hands grasping both of my arms as the grip on my waist lightened. I felt myself sinking to my knees. I couldn't breathe. I felt two hands grasping the sides of my face. When I finally forced myself to open my eyes, I saw Jumper. I saw tears streaming down his face, the face of understanding. I felt myself gasp for air, and it went back out in sobs. Jumper pulled me towards him and I felt the hands holding me back loosen.

Train began walking away from us, but I felt Topper's hand on my back.

A few moments later, I heard Cowboy come running down the street towards us. He stopped suddenly by a pile of crates.

"What did ya did ya do to him, you Bastard!"

I looked at where his gaze fell, and there I saw him. His one eye turning colors and swelling up, blood dripping from his nose, and caked into his blonde hair. I could see his chest rising slowly.

My Doug.

I quickly turned away from Jumper, flung myself to my hands and knees. I couldn't stop the waves of nausea, which continued into dry heaves. I wanted to die. I deserved to die. I hurt the only person in the world who mattered to me.