There's a gasp, a sputter, a halting cough as the thin figure of a man lugs himself out of muddy waters. His hands claw desperately at the wood of the docks, pulling him onto the rough planks about halfway, his legs still concealed in the murky depths.
His breaths are sharp as he tries to get ahold of the panic that infiltrates his head, making his vision cloudy. No... no something else was the cause of the blur over his eyes. His eye. A hand gingerly reaches up, brushing over the skin of his cheek. He jerks his fingers back harshly, pain radiating from that side of his face. The skin felt marred, the flesh raw and inflamed. The chemicals in the water along with the recently inflicted wound still fresh.
A shudder ran through him, and a dizzy feeling took over. He needed to get out of the water before losing consciousness. If he didn't, he would slip back into the water and finish the job of drowning, himself.
With that thought, he did his best to haul his aching limbs onto the dock. It took all the energy he had, forcing him to collapse fully after successfully removing his legs from the waters.
Finally free from the immediate danger, the pain and panic slightly dissipate but with that comes the reality he had to face. A harsh feeling of hurt flashes through him, making him clench the fabric of his torn shirt in anguish. His knuckles turn white.
Betrayal.
Never did it cross his mind that his closest friend, his brother, would be the one to betray him. To attempt to murder him. To try and drown him in the chemical-infested rivers. If he couldn't trust his brother, then who could he trust? The answer was simple. No one.
Shaking, he turned his weak body towards the edge of the dock, heaving whatever was in his stomach into the river below. He squeezed his eyes shut, as best he could with his injured eye, trying to fight off another wave of sickness. Too many thoughts, too many pains, and too many emotions. With this betrayal, all that he knew would go crashing down. Everything he and his brother has worked to build? Gone. Every alliance formed? No longer reliable. Everything he had held certainty in? Now lay in shadowed questions.
But now was not the time to debate. For now, he just had to survive.
It took him an hour or so to gather the strength to stand. During that time he gained back enough sight to be able to find his way through the streets. His idle position made him even more vulnerable than he already was, and the dark was not a comforting thing around the lanes. Getting back home was the best he could do, then after that, he could decide what to do next. Easier said than done, his legs almost refused to support him for more than a minute at a time. The fatigue from the struggle and the river water eating away at his skin.
When he finally managed to get himself moving, he was faced with the task of trying to navigate the roads. People lurked around corners, a few passing him by as he half limped, half dragged himself home. Some stared with either concern or even amusement. Others, who recognized him, steered their direction away entirely.
No one spoke to him. At least, not until he was on the last stretch home. He was struggling to stay upright when a voice called through the haze of his mind.
He brushed it off as passing conversation at first, intently focusing on the ground a few feet ahead. But then, it came again, seemingly closer, and clearer this time.
This time he halted in his steps, confusion washing over him.
Once more, this time clear enough to hear.
"Sir, are you alright?" The words were slightly garbled in his water-logged ears. They must be speaking to him.
He turns his head up from the ground, looking for the source of the voice.
"Do you need hel-" the words caught in their mouth as he looked up to meet their gaze. He must look in worse shape than he had guessed.
"Do you need help?" They repeat once more, finishing their sentence this time. The voice is soft, almost sweet.
There is no answer from him, the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. He does his best to see who is speaking to him, whether he knows them or if it is a stranger. He can't see shit. Either way, he was not about to entrust another with his life. Not after the events of today.
"What happened to you?" The next words come in a hushed whisper. Pity, or maybe it was simply concern, laced their tone.
Too many questions. His head was spinning. He gave up on trying to answer. A hand reaches from the blurry figure before him.
A jolt of shock travels through his spine as the soft pads of their fingers meet the unscarred side of his face. The touch is warm. He didn't realize he was so cold.
And with that final thought, his body shut down completely, and he collapsed onto the ground before the stranger.
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wowow silco <3
i missed u guys eheheh, how are you all??
