The Last Fight

(Nine-Eleven, from We Soon Be Nigh!, 2011)

YOU BIG DUMB IDIOT YOU MAKE THE WORLD AROUND YOU MELT INTO PUTRID TRASH, THE SAME TRASH AS YOU.

DO YOU REALIZE THIS?

My heart's a-racing, I can't remember the last time I was this pissed, it's not my fault. I lived most of my life as a passive, fight-avoiding-at-all-cost citizen, I considered myself polite and nice, but every so often some jerk, no, some big old idiot comes around and ruins the harmony of life. Deep down inside of me my nasty vocabulary is ignited, I say all kinds of things, most of which don't make sense and are completely negative, I become negative. He's yelling at his girlfriend again, she's crying, struggling to carry on, he has his hand on her arm, grabbing it hard, carrying the pace for the both of them. Every now and then he yells at anyone within 30ft of him. There's a woman with a small dog, bark bark bark goes the man, a mother with a scroller, another bark, a skinny guy with headphones, bark again. I wonder what makes him so mad, how can anyone have a reason to be that insanely furious, did his mother, after struggling with cancer for many years finally die, with him at the bedside, holding her hand? No, I doubt that, you'd be sad, at least I'd be sad if that happened, rage would be the last thing to come to mind. Did the world seriously fuck with this guy, no, in my guts it did not feel that way at all, this was different, he wasn't just rotten. My driver's license says I weigh 147lb, I'm 5' 11'', but closer to 5' 10.6", I hadn't been in a fight since middle school, and my demeanor would never work to prevent fights by appearing to be threatening, I was quite the opposite, I looked sweet and nice. I never got mugged or given any trouble, maybe I did look tough, or maybe the half-asian in my appearance gave others the suggestion I may or may not know kung-fu, whatever it was, I was both friendly and non-targetted, a happy medium. This happy medium of mine was now engulfed in the spit of an angry idiot. I keep as calm as I could, I even look him in the eyes. My eyes naturally get a little glassy when being yelled at, it's loud sounds, at concerts if I'm too close to the drummer each snare hit makes my eyes blink, if I'm with a pretty girl I fight each blink, keeping my eyes open, each snare hit, ranging from a 90-130bpm drum loop, irritated my eyes or more precisely something deep in my mind that didn't like loud sounds. I also had exceptionally sensitive ears, able to hear high-pitch rings that only people half my age could hear, I often thought that attributed to my sensitive disposition.

He was 15ft away, his girlfriend's eyes adverted, I knew she needed me, ego aside, she was looking for some brute to shut him up, and perhaps this sort of thing happens with them a lot, that he'd go on a blind rampage through the street, and eventually he'd bark at the wrong fella or lady, and he'd get shut up. I wondered if I was the one, the fella, the lady, the character born to aid this task. I felt a rage growing in my belly, I looked as mean as he did at this point, I could sense his doubt in his brief pauses he'd take, like we was thinking things over in his head, can I take this guy, he might thinking I know kung-fu or some chinese shit. I told him I did with my eyes, piercing his soul, giving him this message, I am very much not one to be messed with, now am I going to have to show you a lesson. I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows and soon realized that the bulky veil they produced over my thin forearms were now defeated. I tried to keep my cool, I was still winning this fight, or at least I thought I was. He stepped closer, I stood there, chest out like Superman.

"COME ON, TOUGH GUY, YOU AIN'T SHIT", he spits out.

I say nothing looking at him without a blink. I stood there with an invisible wind blowing my invisible cape, I swear for a moment I was invincible.

He comes closer, I don't budge, I hold my ground. Closer and closer. Before I knew it I could see the insanity in his eyes, for a flicker of a moment I saw fear in myself, I quickly collect myself, keeping it together. I lower myself, keeping my knees bent, legs fluid, moving, arms ready to grab, his fists were drawn, I should cover my face but I figured I could dodge or take a blow and let the adrenaline take over as I lock this prick and throw him to the ground. I waited for that chance, all I needed was one opening. He left go of his girlfriend and came at me faster than I'd imagined, I realized I wasn't wrestling someone but going against a fist-throwing maniac.

A punch thrown, kissing my ear, I raced to his body, swung my arms around his neck and catching underneath his armpit, I locked my hands together and squeezed in the gap, swinging my whole body to the ground taking him with me, his legs gave resistance so I move to the side, he stopped yelling, just grunts, which sounded even more threatening over my shoulder, out of sight not out of mind. Eventually I brought him down to the ground, he was a lot stronger than me, I felt my body give to the force a few times, and each time I struggled to pin him down. Eventually he subsides, he seems as calm as belligerent fool could be, and after a minute of listening to his girlfriend tell me to let him go, and him telling me to let him go, I do. The tables turn so fast that all I could remember is the sensation of falling when I was perfectly confident in standing, as if the carpet beneath my feet was pulled, a white-out and a ringing noise followed, nothing broken just me on the ground, and in shock. When was the last time I was punched. He started to kick my stomach, and I hold myself together, tightening every muscle in my body like armor. Some people run over to the site, I can't see them, just hear them as this whole commotion unfolds, I feel like I was watching a movie with my eyes closed, imagining what this and that character looks like, what expression they have on their face, where they were, what they were holding, eventually I hear the idiot's voice, it is farther than before, I hear it echo down the street, my body still curled together. I feel more embarrassed than anything, I just got beaten up, I mean it happens but it's probably the most degrading thing ever, worst than having your pants pulled and your underwear goes down with it, and everyone sees your penis, strangers and a lot of them, and you're blind with embarrassment. At least then you can run away, but where I rest, I have to first get up, and face those who saved me before I can do anything, then I walk away in shame, face all messed up. I decide to stay there, looking at the world through the gaps of my arms, I see bodies, no faces, just arms and waists, I could read their body language, they're losing interest. I just want them to go away, I'm thankful but I just want to be alone right now.

They don't leave, eventually I get out of my conscious coma, and face them, they help me up, I'm not sure if that makes it worst or not, but I figured at this point my balls could be out for all to see and it wouldn't matter I'm a mess and most pathetic sight for sore eyes. I pick up my glasses, they're all scratched up, and I thank them and take none of their offers, I just want home. I walk home, think about a lot of things, and try to ease my nerves. I could really use a woman right about now, make me forget about this night, or rather the night I had before meeting up with her, we could do whatever, just take me away from my thoughts, just give me that much. I reached my apartment, looked up, my light was off, why would it be on, I decided to walk passed, I walked and walked, across a bridge, passed a neighborhood, into a park, into the sea, into the abyss, into the darkest regions known to man, into hell, and back again, raising from the sea covered in seaweed, looking swampthing, looking like a something, I walk endlessly until the sun kisses the horizon, I looked down at my feet, they ache, I limp on, and eventually falling on a bench, sit there looking at the sky, the same sky that I've seen a million times, transform, the same transformation I've seen half a million times, I look endlessly, I shiver, I'm not cold, at lease physically, no, I was cold deep down inside, too far for any comfort blanket. I swallowed my thoughts, I look on, and can't remember the last time I saw dawn. The craziest of nights always end like this I think to myself, I try to think of something profound to say, to encourage myself, to rebuild myself, but instead I just looked on, not thinking about anything. Blank, for the first time in a long time.