Prisoner of Circumstance | ✔️

10 | Deathly

TEN - Deathly

The words that escaped my lips shocked me to the core. I didn't—couldn't conceive how profound my despair, say brokenness went up until that moment.

I had given up.

That's what I noticed—whether it be consciously or unconsciously, I had given up on all things life... I had laid rest to all intentions to redeem my once imperfectly perfect image to what it was before.

And even if I could, the million dollar question still remained; how? How was a supposed to fight the cruelly formidable actions of those who wish to see me vanquished for God knows what.

Deep down in my dark, anguished heart, I knew... I always knew that I was living on borrowed time. The hourglass was running out. My hourglass was running out. It was my time and apparently I had made peace with it unconsciously—without knowing.

I was one—alone and they were four. Four well-built dangerous hooligans that thrived from blood and fear. What were the odds? Me winning against four malicious blood thirsty goons, most probably incarcerated for murder or something equally gruesome with someone's life hanging in the balance...?

There was no way out for me and I knew it. Just like I knew this day would arrive someday. I always knew that somehow, in some fucked up way that somehow I will be caught at the cross road where my father's influence will not mean shit. Where I would have to fend for myself, for my survival but at that moment, nothing mattered, hence the jaw-dropping line than escaped my dried up, currently snarling mouth.

"Just make it quick..." were the words that left me astounded when I finally comprehended the meaning behind them. I was prepared. Ready to die, to kick the bucket and what even scared me the most was the fact, I wasn't afraid to die. I wasn't afraid to leave this Mother Earth without leaving an imprint that I was once upon a time alive. That I somehow in some twisted way meant something to someone. To them. To the ones I loved—love.

But like the twisted fuck-shits it—universe—was, I didn't—couldn't even finish that thought because before I knew it, I was a sputtering mess, gasping and fighting for air, leaving my lungs in fractured wheezes.

"Oh... you still think you mean something? Like, you're worth anything?" The goon on my left growled in my face as he delivered another right hook to my gut, literally bringing me to my knees, coughing up air and saliva. "You don't get to say anything bud..." another one sneered in my ears as he pulled me up from the ground with my arms secured behind my back in a tight gripped that hindered my blood flow.

My eyes were stinking, my lungs deprived of oxygen; burning, scratching. Overpowered by the un-required carbon dioxide. My legs a mere shimmying mess unable to complete its locomotive function, finally giving up on me as I felt the endless strikes.

"This is for everyone your father fucked over, over the years." Another one added with a gruff, enraged voice that sent unwanted, fear inducing chills through my body.

"Please stooppp..." I choked out. "I am n-not my f-fatheerr." I tried.

"You are our best shot at getting back at him." That's all I heard before I felt a left and a right hook to my mandible bone that sent me salivating and choking on my own blood.

After that blow or more like blows; I lost track of everything. My surroundings, everything. Besides the punches they were throwing which I welcomed with non-literal open arms.

Punch after punch. Blow after blow. A kick after kick. I took it all like a real man just waiting for that moment where everything was gonna stop. Where everything was gonna cease to exist. Waiting for that momentous moment where everything happening to me would finally make sense. Where everything that led up until that moment would... but nothing.

Nothing actually did.

The only thing that I knew... that I felt... that made sense... was the excruciating, deathly pain that covered my every body part, muscles, tendons and articulations included; the salty tears sliding down my cheeks, leaving a scalding trail in its wake mixed with saliva, mucus and blood... a lot of blood... that's what made sense. That's the only thing that actually did.

I don't know how I found myself on the ground, squirming and crying in pain, in a fetal position, hoping—praying they would stop or just end it all.

Everything.

But the end never came. It was prolonged. Slowed down to a pace where I would feel everything. Feel my body fading. My pulse pulsating, slowing down as it prepares to leave my body. Palpitations ringing in my ears making themselves at home before they finally leave.

Instead; punches, kicks, and the sound of my bones breaking were the only things that seemed to come. That I seemed to be gifted with.

My heart was breaking. Cracking into million irreplaceable pieces. Puzzle pieces that will never be able to be pieced together. Crack by crack, I felt it as my life started fading. As my heart started giving up, finally succumbing to almost three years of torture.

And I felt it all... the pain. The agonizing agony—affliction as it tormented me to my very tortured broken soul. And was it unbearable. Both physically and emotionally.

That's why I cried like I never did in my twenty-one years of life. I cried for myself, for my friends... for Xavier.. I cried because in some messed up way I felt like I deserved it all. The beating, being arrested for crimes I didn't commit...

I deserved it all and the only thing I had at that moment was to give it all up and pray that God hears my prayers and forgive me for all the fuck up shit I have done in my fucked up version of life where I am getting punish for the sins of my father. But the irony of the situation was; it's what it said in the scripture. ...visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth generation.

I was just living proof.

I don't know where I lost correlation of reality. Where I stopped feeling everything I was previously hyper aware of. Everything that was working a double shift just to submit me. The pain; both physically and emotionally that didn't allow be to get a breather.

It was all gone. Dusted. Wafted away. Numbed as I waited for that white, culminating light to take me hostage, seize me home to finally meet my maker... but the white light never came.

Instead it was the blackness that took me captive and relinquished me to a never ending pit of darkness void of everything and anything.

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