Out Of Desperation // Harry Styles

1

The breathlessness was really getting old now. I NEEDED a breath, for the love of fvck!

All I could hear was the scuffling of their shoes on the pavement, and the sound of my stomach and back (as I'd roll over the other way to relieve the pain for just a second.) being kicked and punched repeatedly. They didn't even talk the whole time. Just beat me.

I was pretty sure they were going to beat me to death.

No more Harry Styles. New singer. Whole career ahead of me. All that struggle. All that time. All that work...and now it would be over. If only I wasn't drunk. I'm sure I could have had a chance to defend myself. Quicker reactions. Able to run. Anything! This is killing me!

Suddenly in the middle of all the kicks  and punches, one of the men fell directly to the ground, right across my legs. I only knew this, because I caught a slight glimpse out through my arms, and felt his heavy body crush my legs. But for some reason, there was still the shadow of two people above me. Until suddenly another one fell to the ground, a few feet from me. What the....hell?

I saw one more person standing above me through my squinted eyes and protective arms.

The person bent down over me, and grabbed my face and moved it towards her.

Her?? Where did this woman come from? Where did those guys go?

And why does my face feel so warm and electric underneath her hands?

JENNA'S POV:

Two guys in dark clothes were beating the crap out of another guy. Right there. Almost behind the first dumpster. I didn't even process what I started doing. I just started doing it. I found myself creeping slowly and quietly against the brick buildings, TOWARDS the attackers! Why??? Why was I doing this? I didn't know. It just felt right. I just needed to do this. I didn't bother with 911, because last time I called them in this same section of town after seeing someone drop from a heart attack, it was too late by the time anyone showed up. I needed to stop this beating NOW. This poor guy wasn't going to last much longer. He was already on the ground, and they just kept punching him and kicking him in the stomach and on the back.

I finally arrived to my target. A broken metal office chair next to the dumpster. One of the metal legs was lying next to it, complete with the wheel still attatched and all. I could try using this.

I picked it up and managed not to make a scraping sound on the ground. Whew.

I had to pause and think exactly how to do this. The bad men were both facing away from me, so this was good. But after I hit one, the other could get me before I hit him, right? I didn't know. I just had to act fast.

And that's what I did. I ran on my tiptoes the last 10 feet past the dumpster, and swung the metal chair leg as hard as I could like a baseball bat, at the back of the head of the guy on the left. He immediately fell, across the beaten guy on the ground. The other bad guy turned as the other was falling, and was shocked I guess to see a woman, so that was my chance. And I took it. I swung again, even harder, having the feel of the metal leg now.

I got him right on the side of the head, with the tip of the leg and the wheel. I could hear the spinning sound the wheel made as the second guy fell to the ground a few feet from the beaten guy and the other bad guy.

Even in this life threatening situation, I still had a second of more mental laughter, thinking "I'm calling them bad guys?"

Then, still holding my weapon, I focused my attention to the guy on the ground. He was hurt. Moaning. Staggered breathing. I knealt down to him and checked hin out. I couldn't tell how badly or where he was hurt because he had on a red hoodie, tight black jeans, and silvery gray hightop Vans.