The First Memory

The first thing I realised as I emerged from the stairwell was that I was a lot higher than I thought. The towers height was actually quite deceptive from the ground, and as I moved over to the viewing balcony, I found myself able to fully appreciate this place for the first time. I looked out over the sprawling city and it took my breath away. Streets upon streets snaked their way inwards towards this spot as though I was at the centre of some giant spiders’ web. The city was awash with lights, and it looked truly amazing. In the corner of my peripheral vision I saw the beam of a bright white searchlight moving across the turquoise night sky in a lazy arc. I turned my head to follow its slow movements across the sky and began to remember - with agony - the times I had with the girl I had loved. Without a doubt they had been the best times of my feeble existence. 

I remembered the night I'd met her; she was sixteen years old and she was walking home alone from a friend’s house after a night at the cinema. A girl’s night out, she once told me in that warm voice of hers. She was so kind, so loving and so full of life!

I walked past her on my way to the shops, back in the days when my life hadn't been tainted by everything that had happened. Things had seemed so simple back then. Of course I couldn't help myself but look at her - she was breathtakingly beautiful as she always had been. I saw her smile at me and I'd smiled politely in return as I passed her in the small subway that had long been decorated with a variety of graffiti. A few minutes later, I passed a rough looking bloke who seemed to stare at me as though I was some sort of threat. Now being from Havant, I'd long been used to that kind of treatment from the occasional moron who thought he was god’s gift. There was no helping it; that was the way in Leigh Park. But this felt different somehow, and something deep within me told me that there was danger nearby. I stopped and turned, keeping my eyes locked firmly on him as his eyes tore away from my own - and reverted back to the distant figure that was Stacy. That had got me worrying of course, and before I'd even known that I'd made the decision, I was following both of them. In the moments that followed it became clear to me that this bloke was indeed after Stacy, however I knew I couldn’t react until he did. It unnerved me because any reaction would be cutting it fine, even more so when I couldn’t possibly tell what that bloke was planning. I picked up my pace, hoping to get a few yards closer in order to give me some small advantage. As I drew slightly closer he picked up his own pace and broke into a jog, aiming directly for her as the darkness enveloped them both. As I dodged onto the grass and broke into a run of my own, I spotted a slight glint of silver in the man’s hand and I couldn’t bring myself to think of what he was planning; even if I knew. I broke into a sprint as I heard her scream and as I got closer, I could see that he had caught up with her; he had a hold on her arm and was aiming the knife at her throat. She struggled back but he was without a doubt the stronger as he pulled her onto the grass. It only took me a second to reach them. The grass muffled my footsteps just enough that he didn't even realise I was there as I threw myself at him. My body made a satisfying impact with his as we barrelled to the ground. He released his grip on Stacy in order to fight me as I pinned him to the floor. The knife itself flew in a wide arc and disappeared into the dark as I slammed my fist into his gut with all the strength I could muster. 

“What are you waiting for? Get out of here!” I told her as I struggled with her attacker. For some reason she had scrambled to her feet and then she was simply rooted to the spot, evidently too scared to move. Her attacker managed to throw me off of him and sprung to his feet lithely. He brought his foot into my ribs as I scrambled up to meet him, sending me rolling on to my side. I managed to get back to my feet and we lunged at each other and grappled furiously. He was stronger than me, the bloke looked to be in his twenties, whereas I was seventeen, but the gulf in age didn't bother me. He had attacked a young girl, and this was the Warren. We protected our own. As we struggled, I managed to bring my left arm back and let it snap forward to connect with his nose. With a sickening crunch the cartilage split and he flinched out of my reach, groaning in pain as he brought a hand up to his face. I pushed forward and hit him a second time, putting all of my strength and my fury into the strike. He rolled with the blow and it was enough to send him crumpling to the floor. 

I didn't waste any more time. I sprinted over to Stacy and grabbed her hand. 

“Come on, quickly!” I told her as I tugged her hand. She remained rooted the spot, hyperventilating as she stared, transfixed, as the attacker struggle back to his feet. He charged towards us and she screamed again as I stepped in front of her, dropped her hand and aimed one final punch that sent him collapsing into a broken heap at our feet. I turned and put my bloodied hands very gently on her shoulders. I was careful not to get the warm blood that was welling from my knuckles onto her clothes or skin. It would just freak her out. 

“Come on, you’re safe now. I’ll get you home, okay?” I told her quietly. She nodded slightly, her whole body shaking with fear. I took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. She fell quickly into line beside me and I could sense that all she wanted was to get away. To flee for her very life. 

We walked quickly back to the lit up area. I kept glancing behind me to make sure her attacker wasn't coming back for more. I felt her shaking again. 

“Are you cold?” I asked tentatively. 

“A Little,” she admitted in a timid voice. She was a head shorter than me so I stopped and gave her my old jumper to wear over her blouse.  

“Better?” 

She nodded quickly and retook my hand, finding comfort in the feeling as she forced a slight smile as she looked into my eyes for the first time. 

“What’s your name?” I asked her as I returned the smile. 

“Stacy Ryan.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Stacy Ryan.” 

I glanced behind me quickly and winked. “Keep it quiet, but I don't normally get into trouble.” 

Stacy laughed at my poor attempt at humour. It felt good seeing her smile, I had to admit. 

“That was a terrible line wasn't it?” I groaned. 

She smiled again. And it knocked ten bales out of me. 

“Where do you live?” I asked her. 

“Erm, it’s probably not a good idea if I went home just yet, if my parents saw-” she murmured quietly. Her voice continued to shake violently, and I wondered if she was suffering from shock.

“No, you’re right. You look like you could use a hot drink. I’ll take you back to mine? That’s if you trust me, of course.” 

“I trust you,” she replied rather quickly. 

“Good,” I told her with another smile. “Let’s get going, its nippy out here, don’t you reckon?” I shivered theatrically and succeeded in drawing a bright grin from her that just about knocked me senseless. 

“Do your hands hurt?” she asked me suddenly. I glanced down at my hands then to see them cut and bleeding. They throbbed slightly, most probably due to the force I had hit that man with. 

“It’s nothing,” I assured her.  

“Here,” she replied, reaching down to take my left hand in hers and then fished out a packet of tissues from her handbag. She pressed a small wad of the tissue down to my bloody skin and applied just the faintest hint of pressure. I felt the throbbing ease and a weird sensation, like an electric current, shot up my arm and through my body. I looked up into her chocolate brown eyes. Stacy was unnaturally kind, for a Leigh park girl. As I watched her cleaning up my hands with gentle delicacy I felt as though the world had disappeared. I was lost in her eyes. They were alight with relief, and alight with safety.  

Author's Note

Possible grammar issues, mature themes. Reviews welcome.