A couple of weeks ago, I went for a walk in my neighborhood. You may ask why I wasn’t running, but I’ll tell you, it wasn’t by choice. I had previously hurt my knee and was on week three of recovery, so walking seemed to be the best thing for getting the blood flowing throughout the body. Knowing that I was going to be out in the dark, I thought to protect myself as I normally do: I brought my pirate sword. I don’t like assuming that there may be trouble in the hood, but one has to take precautions in today’s society.
On the third mile through the streets, I caught sight of a shadow, off to the right. Not wishing to be caught unawares, I immediately began scanning (cautiously, of course) the surrounding area for signs of trouble. Panning my vision around, I noticed that there were, what appeared to be, three shadowed figures following me.
My mind was racing! What was I to do? I don’t consider myself to be particularly adept at fighting, but I was determined to put up a fight and not go down easily. As I turned the corner, I found a place in which to hide. This seemed to be a perfect spot for an ambush, if I could just calm my breathing as they passed by. I quickly headed for the spot, but as I turned to back into the shadows, I noticed that my plan had been found. One of the shadowed figures was swiftly walking in my direction and I had no choice, but to defend.
Faster that I thought myself able, I drew my sword in defense. The ring of steel leaving the scabbard was distinctive – not only mine, but three more! Trying to remember my training, I set my feet and awaited my attackers.
The first exchange was exciting. The rush of blood and adrenaline surged through my veins. I was in the moment and the battle ensued. Cuts, bruises, blades, shoulders, kicks, sweat – everything around me erupted into the forceful game of skill and wit. I managed to wound one attacker, getting him out of the way, but the remaining two charged on with continued determination. Every second that they pressed was another that I grew weak.
Finally it happened – I felt the piercing blade of fire in my side. At first I was able to shunt the pain, but the throbbing under my ribs increased rapidly. I knew that I had to end the battle, but I was at a loss for direction. In an instant, it came to me. With one sweeping motion I arched my blade around, taking both assailants down with the cut.
Then I was running. Holding my side, I couldn’t chance looking backward. I ran like I have never run before toward the nearest clinic that I could remember; but, something in the back of my mind would not release my attention. What was it about those men that seemed so familiar?
Not wanting to chance capture, I changed directions and headed to a friend’s house – a man who I could trust with my life. When I arrived at his house, I found it dark and no one inside. I knew that I had to avoid looking suspicious, so I hid in the backyard until his return.
I must have passed out, because I only remember waking up in his spare room. I was told that he found me unconscious on the back porch when he was taking out the trash. He had no clue how long I was lying there, but he dragged me into the house as soon as he saw me. The rest is just medical jargon that I don’t understand.
I’m grateful to be alive, because from what I can tell, I lost a lot of blood. And, if any of you readers actually think that this story is true, please note that I’m really fond of writing fictional pieces – whether about me or others J
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