Guns and Roses

The Beginning: Gulf

Gulf is beginning to regret the idea of escaping from Mild's annoying clutches and his tendency to hover and nag.  All of it is rooted from a good place though, his family is overprotective and are on his ass 24/7. 

Everyone just wants to keep Gulf safe. The voice of his father, stern and firm, that's always laced with hard, unbending authority,

The city is not safe, Gulf. The streets are a dangerous place.

But Gulf's thick skull is not having it. Rules are put in place for him to ignore the fuck out them and do whatever the hell he wants and the amount of times he has had a broken bone or a bloody nose is too many times to count, but if Gulf is left on his own outside for a long period of time, bet you not he's going to come home with cuts and bruises.

Violence has a way of finding him.

The life of a thug isn't all that great to be honest, especially when you come face to face with a jab to your jaw or a knee to the gut. The aftermath of brawls usually end up with you experiencing the worst pain imaginable on the face of this planet.

Gulf Kanawut is having one of this days.

Where the pain is just so intense and excruciating that he feels like dying every time he inhales. Its likes every nerve ending on his body has suddenly been stripped open bare and is now exposed out in the world.

He has been running for a while, aimlessly, the adrenaline in his body working overtime to pump energy into his muscles.  Gulf doesn't give a shit where he ends up in, all he cares about is getting his legs to run as fast as they could, to get away as far as he can.

He knows he's only a few moments away from totally collapsing and kissing the ground beneath him but finally the threat of being caught and beaten to oblivion no longer looms over him like a noose around the neck.

Gulf's heart is still pounding madly inside his chest, violently,  he could almost hear his pulse ringing in his ears.

No one is chasing him now. The heavy footfalls have stopped. He could no longer hear the sound of boots on asphalt.

Gulf has stopped running. He sways and staggers until he hits a wall. He could vaguely feel his legs give out and he falls. Just a few moments ago the pain was eating him alive from the inside but now he feels numb. Its cold and freezing and Gulf does not know where he is. But he thinks, its okay, its fine. He is safe now, kind of, and if only he could summon just an ounce of will power, just a little, so that he could reach in his pocket for his phone and dial Mild's number. Mild could get him out of here, wherever 'here' was.

Gulf is in some sort of alley just off the main street. There are not many people in this area and its a bit secluded with a couple of private residences and high rise apartments and here Gulf was on the cold hard ground, possibly dying, he's not sure but he could feel that  one of his ribs, or maybe more than one are broken and might have somehow punctured his lungs.

There is a very high possibility that Gulf might be bleeding internally. Maybe or he could just have the worst concussion being hit in the head repeatedly tonight and is now having hallucinations.

At this point Gulf's fingers feel like they've turned to icicles and his breathing is so labored that his lungs are screaming at him for more air.

But Gulf is so tired. He has no strength even to breathe.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Are you okay?"

A frantic voice from somewhere.

A deep and smooth baritone that has risen an octave higher.

Someone is here.

Gulf's left eye is sealed swollen shut and his right eye is obscured by the blood running down his temples.  But he attempts, a very weak struggle to open, his one good eye and he sees someone kneeling on the ground beside him.

A man. Blurry features. Face unrecognizable. But the worry in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Oh God. Are you still alive? You're still breathing. Okay. Okay. Wait. Mew get your shit  together. Call 911."

No hospitals. No police. Gulf wants to say but his lips don't move and his mouth is dry and crusty from dried out blood. The stranger is on his phone, his eyes wild and in a frenzy. 

The fog clears a little from Gulf's eyes and he can see the man's face a bit clearly.

A handsome stranger. Very masculine. A strong jaw. Gulf's eyes travel lower and all he sees is SHOULDERS. Broad shoulders. Wide chest.

Holy shit. Gulf is definitely dying right? Here he is beaten bloody and bruised God knows where with a hot stranger and what does he do? Check him out that's what he's doing.

Gulf can't help but smile and the stranger looks at him in alarm.

"Oh God hang in there please. Stay with me now. "

The man lets go of his phone and brings his two hands to the side of Gulf's face, cupping his jaw.

Warm. So warm. Gulf closes his eyes.

Finally Gulf's lips move and he is barely able to croak out, a raspy ,

" P-Please, g-get me out...of..h-here. "

"Yes. Yes. I'm trying to call 911 but the lines are busy what are these people doing! I'm so sorry just keep your eyes open okay. "

Gulf gives a shuddering breath and manages to say.

"No hospitals...please...I..dad said..no.hospitals."

He can feel himself slipping away. Gulf is going to faint. He's so sure of it. He's fainted enough times in the past to know when that feeling is coming.

The man with him is saying something but it comes out like static, like background noise like someone has just blocked out his ears and the words are undistinguishable.

Gulf could feel some kind of warmth swaddle him but he retreats to his subconscious as the numbness of his body overtakes him, wrapping him in a cottony cocoon and he is gone.

Then nothing.

Just darkness.