Excerpt from the fast selling urban thiller, In Times of Violence.
"Yeah, let’s finish the bitch," she said getting up.
I stood up and faced them, bracing myself for what I thought would be the finale. Blood was dripping down my face, and the headache I was suffering from, had to be the worst I’d ever experienced. My vision was clouded and fuzzy and I felt sick.
The three of them were in front of me, waiting to finish the onslaught. I wasn’t going to make it. Nevertheless, I was going down fighting.
Two of the women walked towards me. I tried to hit at them only my fist didn’t connect to the target and I punched air. I roughly make out their shapes and shadows, but couldn’t focus on them properly, not that it mattered then. They shoved me against the wall and pinned up my arms. I struggled, but my movements made no difference. Monica’s shadow descended upon me. I only felt her first few punches. Reaching my pain barrier, my body became numb. Too weak to register any more pain. I knew I was going to lose consciousness. I hoped it was sooner, rather than later.
Eventually she stopped. They let go of my arms and I collapsed to the ground, only the battering didn’t stop. The three of them kicked me; every strike hit its mark. I lay helpless, sensing what was happening to me. However, physically, I was unable to feel anything. There was a loud ringing in my ears, as one boot found its target (my head.) I could just about hear, every word shouted, came out as a slow boom. Breathing became difficult and I started coughing out blood. I knew I wouldn’t be able to take much more. I thought I was going to die. Giving up, I laid on the ground unable to move, feeling nothing. I don’t know how long the beating went on for, for time lost its relevance. I sensed they’d stopped, although they were still standing over me shouting.
A year ago, I would never have dreamed I would leave my dreary, tiresome, village and head for the bright lights of London for a visit, let alone reside there. As I lay still, drifting in and out of consciousness, the last month flashed before me. Could I have changed the situation? Would I want to? I reflected.
I suppose it all started on my eighteenth birthday. Yes, let’s start from there. It’s as good a place as any. I decided the best way to celebrate, was to go down the local with my current boyfriend, David and his mates, get pissed, stoned, and basically chill out. I didn’t have any friends at the college I attended so a party was out of the question; not like mum would have let me have one anyway. Unfortunately, it turned out to be the wrong decision. Something was in the air that night, and nobody was in a great mood. The atmosphere felt strained. I didn’t try to force myself to have a good time; it was obvious it just wasn’t going to happen.
By the time I reached home, I was depressed.
Start as you mean to go on, I thought. I needed to sit down and think. I’ve got to do something with my life. There must be more meaning to this? Some reason why I was put on this earth? There must be more to life than this boring life I live, and it’s up to me to change things. That was the beginning. That’s when it all started.
I’d been dating David for just over a year, nothing serious though. I can still remember the first time we met. I’d just come back from the village store, when David first attempted to chat me up. I knew him from around the village; even so, we’d hardly spoken to one another. I refused to go out with him at first, and gave the excuse about my mother. In fact, I told him what life with a drunk was like. I assumed the truth would put him off, and he would leave me alone. Boy was I wrong. He took a bottle of sherry round to her and wormed his way into my life.
I was using him, not in the least attracted to him. He possessed a car, his precious black XR3. Money wasn’t a problem, and he came with a large circle of friends. Don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy my time with him and gained some happy memories. The only times I felt truly relaxed and free was when we enjoyed a smoke, just the lads and I.
The first time I ever got stoned, I was alone. In the beginning, it made me feel relaxed and sleepy, only then I felt more depressed than I did before the joint. From then on, I made sure I smoked in a group, with the lads.
When we were all together and high, we felt as though we didn’t have a care in the world. Nobody gave a shit about anything. Suddenly nothing mattered.
One bad side effect was paranoia. We’d get so thirsty after a joint that we’d nip into the local. Only all eyes would be on us, watching, or so we thought. We would try to act inconspicuous, but that just made it worse. We felt sure everyone knew that we were high, and that we’d been smoking cannabis. However, the paranoia would soon pass and we would be sharing our little secret once more, one that only we knew. Oh, and the munchies. I would get such a craving for food, yet it wasn’t that I was hungry. My tongue would crave for texture, and my taste buds would come alive. Food would taste so strong, which often wasn’t such a good thing.
I suffered an embarrassing side effect when I smoked dope. I became very randy. I just couldn’t help myself. I would flirt appallingly with David’s friends, but David would just laugh it off. Not that I was attracted to any of them, most of the time I would be too stoned to care. Poor old David only got laid when I was high. He didn’t realize I wasn’t in love with him.
I remember a couple of the other lads almost got lucky once. It’s still embarrassing to think about that night.
It happened on a summer’s evening. We were driving around aimlessly after having indulged in a few drinks and a couple of strong joints. I was gone, totally out of it. David parked near the local reservoir, and as it was a warm evening, I came by the ridiculous notion that it would be cool to go skinny-dipping. I was on top form that evening and the guys seemed to hang on to every word I said. Thinking about it, I vaguely remember being funny. David was so stoned; I don’t think he realized what was going on.
I can’t even remember walking into the lake. Nevertheless, there I was, stark naked, kissing David’s best friend, but not conscious of what was happening. His hands were everywhere, touching and caressing in such a way it didn’t occur to me to be wrong. It felt exciting, thrilling, a real turn on. I was so out of it, I didn’t realize everyone else was watching. Someone else touched me, their stroke slightly different from the others. I could feel hands all over my body. I remember feeling aroused by it all. It was so erotic.
I don’t recall why, perhaps it was the dope wearing off, or the coldness of the water, but all of a sudden I came to my senses and stopped everything, there and then. I ran out of the water, and just in time as the others were stripped, stark naked, and were just about to jump in. God knows what would have happened that night if I hadn’t come out of my daze. I’m not a slag, and I’ve never slept around. David was my first. It was just that one night. After that incident, I was careful how much I smoked and made sure I knew what I was doing. Luckily, they allowed me to forget. No one ever spoke of that evening.
I needed to smoke. It was my way of leaving everything behind and going into my own world. Just for a short while, I didn’t have to think about anything, not even myself. It was as if I was in another place, nothing around me except peace and calmness. Only then, the effect would wear off and reality would come crashing down on me like a tone of bricks, causing an urgent need for another release.
It wasn’t difficult to get my hands on the drugs. I had my own supplier, and if he were out of stock, then David would have some. I think most of the juveniles in the village dabbled with drugs. We needed it. We were bored.
I had a laugh with David and his friends. Sadly, up until then, they were the best moments of my life.
In Times of Violence is a fast paced, enjoyable read.
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