Discovery Avenue

Falling - Part 3

Peter came to a standstill at the illuminated fountains. Still spurting into the night, just as he was. He also wondered what that woman's issue was, there was clearly more to it than just knocking his ego over. The water created a fine mist and drunken party goers began to splash around in the square. He watched on, chuckling as one man fell over, soaking his suit. 

'I should go home,' he says aloud. To his surprise the drunken bloke gets to his feet and stumbles over, flipping his drunken suit wearing buddies off. The women trailing after them could hardly stand up straight. It was barely midnight, the town center clock still ticking over. 

'Haay, be--been busy?' the drunken man blurts, his lager tinged breath blinding. Peter pushed him back.

'Fuck no. I'm going home.' Peter nods respectfully, fully aware that the bloke probably didn't even know what planet he was on, let alone who he was talking to. As he walked away, now tempted to go home to Anna, he assessed the evening as a fail. If only he'd just stayed at home. Unexpectedly a thick chubby hand grabbed his right shoulder, swinging him around. The drunk bloke, he assumed

To his surprise it was a tall brunette woman. Vaguely familiar face, possibly from work. 'You hit on my girlfriend, yes?' she said. Her eyes were wide and Peter, despite being a couple inches taller, felt intimidated. For some strange reason he felt like running away, taking to the pavement, getting away from the water and sprinting home .

'No.' He had no idea who she was. Then he saw the drunk man sprawling around in the fountain like a child, pissed, stumbling toward the woman's back. Peter could see a collision and darted backwards. 

'Don't you have anything...' she was cut off as the suited drunk fell head first into her back. The pair tumbled to the wet stone floor. The group that the drunk man was with quickly turned, about ten meters away and started to hurtle towards Peter. 

'Get away from him,' they all chanted, slurring each syllable. The woman kicked the suited man on the floor, stood up and then lashed out at Peter. He was stone sober, flinched, and then thumped her straight in the jaw with his right fist. At that moment she screeched and the drunk group of men arrived. Seeing what Peter had done. His heart thudded and he trembled, what an awful mistake. He closed his eyes expecting a beating. 

'You fucking skank, get lost,' one man shouted at the woman. The drunk man in the suit who had stumbled into her suddenly grabbed her long hair and began beating her face. The other men, a total of three, joined in. Peter had no choice, he had to stop this brutal violence. 

Screaming and shouting ensued and a small crowd formed on the corner of the square. The woman was on the floor, being kicked. Peter had lunged into the group, throwing left and right punches, catching the men in the jaw, but being beaten and booted in his legs, knocked to the ground and then becoming the center of attention. It didn't last long, but when they finally stumbled away, blood on their fists, their suit pants, he lay in a small puddle of his own nose blood. The woman wretched and clawed at her hair. The on-lookers that Peter could see in the corner of his eye were laughing. 'What are you laughing at?' he yelled. The gathering drinkers departed. 

He held his stomach, then vomited into the water. All he could hear was the woman crying, and the fountains swooshing.