Vulnerability

The first time I stood up to a bully was in 8th grade. His name was Harry Styles, and at the time, I had always pictured him being in a street gang. Today, I don't know where he is, or who he became. But the day I stood up to him was the beginning to who I am now.
I remember the day clearly, it being exactly a month after my mother had died from a rare brain cancer. It was supposed to be just another normal day. A day where I would just sit back and look at life pass morosely before my eyes, grieving my mother's departure. But it turned out differently. On that day, I decided to do something with my life, starting with protecting the weak.
"She told you to leave her alone." I had said bravely to the older guy, who was pushing a girl in my grade into the lockers.
"And what are you going to do about it?" Harry had retorted. He let go of the girl, advancing predatorily towards me. "Huh? What are you going to do about it?" he repeated. I had thought of something quickly, but dumbly.
"This." I rapidly kicked him where the sun didn't shine. He fell down to his knees in pain.
"You're gonna pay little bitch." He muttered.
And I did. The next week or so, I was beaten up by him every day until I started really fighting back, taking multiple classes of self-defense and martial arts of all kinds as after-school activities.
After maybe a year, I was the stronger one. I was the one who made him cough up blood, and come back home with a black eye and multiple bruises. He finally left me alone, and never bullied someone under my watch. Nobody dared in fact. They were all scared of me, but I didn't mind it much. Last time I heard from Harry, he was moving across the sea back to his hometown near London. I felt triumphant. I knew I had protected the people who needed it, and I had absolutely no guilt kicking the ass of people who deserved it.
A year later, there wasn't a single sign of bullying at school. Having nobody to protect, I took my skills to some darker parts of town, doing small things here and there. That was in 11th grade.
Then I went to college. Things changed drastically after that.
♣○♣○♣○♣
"Where are you going?" My father asks as I try sneaking out on another of my nightly escapades. These last few days, people were tense around the city and I had a feeling there was some new street gang involved, but I wasn't sure. I needed to check it out to make sure they wouldn't cause too much damage.
"I'm going to hang out with Gabrielle." I lie fluently, turning the doorknob. He stops me as I open the door.
"Again? You girls do a lot of hanging out don't you think? And at night..."
"Dad... We're girls." I sigh, shutting the door. "Of course we hang out. Bye now!" I start heading out but he stops me again.
"Come back here Brooke."
"Dad I'm almost 19, I can make my own decisions now." I groan, sitting at the kitchen table. "And why didn't you believe me when I told you I'm going to hang out with my friends?"
"Maybe I would've believed you if I didn't know you so well. Your ‘friends', are actually the people you beat up, therefore not really your friends."
"So you do agree that I have friends?" I grin.
"Brooke... Friends are friendly. "
"What if I told you tonight would be different and I'd do what normal teenage girls do? I'd go hang out with my friends at a bar, find a guy, make-out, and then have a one-night stand with him. I could do that."
"Brooke you're not a regular girl, so your argument is invalid." He continues doubtfully, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I am a regular girl." I protest.
"Oh really? Regular girls are black belts in every martial art possible, and they come home bruised regularly?" He enquires, cocking his eyebrow upwards.
"Some of them are," I shrug.
"Clearly you don't know what the word regular means then."
"So are you gonna let me go or do I have to sneak out?" I question bluntly.
"You're going to have to try to sneak out."
"Pfft. You said that the five million other times and I succeeded anyways. Dad, why don't you let me leave using a normal door? You know I'll end up making it outside anyways."
"Well what's one more try? Maybe you'll change your mind by the time you're on the roof."
"Not likely."
"Well it's worth a try."
I let out frustrated groan, before storming up to my room.
"If you do get out, be safe!" My father yells from downstairs.
I roll my eyes and cross the length of my room, opening my bedroom window. Sliding under, I place my feet on the windowsill and reach up to the roof, before hoisting myself up.
I stand up easily on the tiles, and walk to the other side of the house, stopping at the edge. I look up at the sky for a few seconds, admiring the white reflection of the moon on the backyard pool. My mom and I used to hang out a lot together on warm summer nights, on the edge of the pool, and we'd just talk of things together.
Pushing the memory away, I grab the branch of the big oak near the house, and climb it down to the solid ground. I take a deep breath and start walking behind a few neighborhood houses, following the path I'd made from walking the same way so many times before. I stop after about 3 miles, being on the outskirts of the city.
I bend down, and reach in the inside of my boot, making sure I still had my knife placed at its correct place, before doing the same with the one placed in my pocket, and the one on my belt.
"So what's it gonna be tonight Chicago?" I challenge, looking fearlessly at the city lights. "Hopefully something good." I smirk, before strolling to the riskier parts of the city. Whatever tonight had in store, I was ready for it. Like I always was.
♣○♣○♣○♣
The cold November air was particularly humid tonight. I didn't like it much. My jacket clung to me like a second skin, and it wasn't very comfortable. I could feel sweat building up in the sleeves. Why did I wear the jacket again?
I grimace, rolling the sleeves up a bit while I walked through yet another dark alley. These last few nights had been eventless, much to my disappointment.
I look at my watch. Almost two in the morning... It's getting late, even for a Friday night.
I walk through a couple other narrow alleys, and sigh regretfully. Just as I'm about to leave, I hear a dimmed speech, followed by the clear sound of a person being hit. Bingo.
Feeling the familiar adrenalin pumping through my veins, I follow the sound through different pathways, as quiet as a cat. I come across a group of three men. Crouching behind a nearby giant garbage bin, I observe the scene silently. It looked like the bald guy, was being menaced by the very broad-shouldered brunette, while the man with bleached hair just looked at the scene carefully, hands in his jacket's pockets casually.
"We told you Max. You had to bring the fucking money by Friday!" The British accent booming out of the brunette makes him ten times scarier.
"Well I-I-I-" The bald man, Max, stutters.
"Liam."
It's as if the blonde one gave a signal, and a couple punches we're thrown in the man's face. The whines of pain sicken me. I'm about to stop the two men, when the brunette, Liam, suddenly stops. Tensely, I stay poised at my place.
"You have absolutely no valuable reason." The blonde shrugs. His accent is almost like his partner's but not quite...Maybe those two are the ones that have been causing such mayhem in Chicago these last days... They're obviously not from here.
"Y-y-you didn't give me enough t-t-time!" Max stutters, coughing up blood.
"Two weeks was more than enough you fucking bastard."
"Niall I'm sorry but-" The man gets kicked in the chest. I'm about to leap in any second now.
"My name has absolutely no reason to come out of your filthy mouth. And I don't give a shit about your sorry excuses. They won't give me my money back." The blonde one seethes. "But maybe your head on a plate will?"
I shudder as Niall suddenly pulls out a gun from his leather jacket, pointing it at the man's head.
"Please no I-"
"Leave him alone." I speak fearlessly, stepping out of behind the bin.
The three heads spin in my direction.
"Get away from him." I repeat again, trying to sound as menacing as possible.
Niall chuckles.
"Well well you're a sneaky little thing."
"Niall should I-"
The blonde stops Liam from advancing towards me with a shake of his head, before gazing at me.
"Why don't you mind your own business Cupcake hmm? It's quite late for a delicate flower like you to be strolling around in dark alleys," Niall coos, keeping the gun pointed at Max's head.
"Don't call me Cupcake." I say between clenched teeth, balling my hands into tight fists. "Leave that man alone." I repeat. "He deserves to live."
"No."
My blood freezes in my veins as he pulls the trigger, my heart beating madly in my chest at the deafening sound. I watch without flinching, as Max's dead body drops to the ground.
"See what you made me do?" Niall reprimands, placing his weapon back into his jacket. "Oh well." He shrugs. "Aren't you gonna go Cupcake? I just killed a man. I'm dangerous." He eyes me up and down, his look calculative.
"I'm dangerous too. And I told you not to call me Cupcake!" I hiss, before tackling him. I've had more than enough with his pleasantries.
We both fall on the concrete ground, but somehow I'm the one who gets her back smashed into the asphalt. Quickly ridding myself of my surprised state, I start tapping into my self-defense knowledge, and succeed into making him topple under me.
Out of the blue, Liam fist collides with my stomach, and I fall onto the ground, momentarily breathless.
"Are you done yet?" Niall chuckles, standing up and dusting himself off as if nothing had just happened.
"No."
My leg swiftly crooks under his, making him topple to the ground. Liam grabs my shoulder, but I easily shove him off, using his weight and strength against him as I threw him to the ground.
Niall uses my moment of distraction and locks my right arm painfully behind my back, kicking in the behind of my knees so I'm kneeling on the floor.
"What about now?"
"Still n-"
I'm not even finished saying my sentence that he rapidly sends my three years of martial arts in the gutter, pressing my face onto the ground while Liam held the rest of my body down.
I groan, feeling Niall's knee pressing deep into my back.
"You're cute." Niall whispers in my ear.
"Fuck you." I snap, tasting the slight copper of blood inside my mouth.
"And you're dirty mouthed. What else are you not showing?" Niall laughs.
"The fact that I could kick your ass easily if you had been alone." I seethe.
"Hmm weird I doubt that. But you'll have plenty of chances to prove it alright? Because I know losing sucks and all...I've decided to keep you, and give you the chance to prove yourself as many times as you want." He says it like it's a great idea.
"I'll pass." I bite back.
"Unfortunately for you, it wasn't an option."
I struggle underneath the boys' weights, making Niall's hands tighten painfully around my biceps. Ignoring the pain, I keep writhing, trying to get at least one of them off me.
"You're one perseverant lass aren't you?"
I start squirming more vigorously not wanting to give him a verbal reply.
"Of course you are." He laughs. "This is perfect... So, love, since you're so keen on fighting me off, I have a challenge for you ... Liam can you pass me that?"
There's a short pause.
"You sure about this?"
"Yeah. Here Cupcake try resisting to this."
A damp rag is pressed against my mouth, and I immediately identify the substance. Chloroform. I stop breathing.
"The longer you wait to inhale, the longer you'll be passed out." The blonde sing songs from over me.
"What exactly are you planning on doing with her?" Liam enquires.
"Keep her to myself. I can think of a few things she could be a good use of..." Niall trails on. "Ain't that right cupcake? You'll be able to help me with all my little problems, won't you?" The blonde continues, caressing the top of my head.
"Never." I gasp.
"And you just made the dumb mistake of breathing. Oh well. We'll just have to work harder on your weak feminine brain then won't we?"
"I'll fucking kill you," I mumble tiredly, feeling the chloroform clouding my senses.
"We'll see. Sweet dreams Cupcake."
I want to scream out in rage as darkness starts wrapping me into a tight envelop of nothingness.

Notes

Soo... Should i continue, or should i stop? XX Please leave a comment!