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The Decision A Short Story


Lao

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Posted

this follows on from my short story the wedding bouncer.

 

 

The Decision

 

 

“Danny, you in here?”

 

“DANNY YOU IN?”

 

“Yeah I’m in the Bathroom”

 

“Great, its me Leigh, Steve’s gonna come round and pick us up in about 20 minutes so get a move on”

 

Shit! I shouldn’t have left the backdoor unlocked. I’ve been avoiding the lads for a few weeks now. They have been trying to drag me out since that night a few weeks ago, but I just can’t. You see a few weeks ago my older brother Ian was best man at Joe’s wedding, Ian and Joe have been friends for years, and they own and work in a small back lane garage fixing up local motors. It was only natural then that Joe would ask Ian to be his best man, and for me and the family to get an invite. Everything changed for me the night of that wedding. I can’t stop thinking about what happened to me, and so I have made a decision, but first I’m going to have to get rid of Leigh.

 

I put down the Razor.

 

“Listen Leigh, I’m not going out tonight”

 

“OH FUCK OFF!, you’ve been saying that for weeks. Stop moping around here and come out with the boys on the pull. Nothing is going to happen to you, we’ll keep any eye on you. We’ll stick together”

 

“No listen Leigh, really I can’t go out tonight, I’m sorry mate.”

 

“Come on”

 

“sorry mate”

 

“OH FUCK YOU, DON’T ‘SORRY MATE’ME! WHAT KIND OF FRIEND ARE YOU, IM GOING, DON’T KNOW WHY I BOTHERED”

 

I hear the sound of footsteps going back down the stairs, but I know he hasn’t really gone, this is just a ploy to get me to open the bathroom door, he knows it will be harder for me to say no to his face. I’ve know Leigh all my life, we were in the same class all through school, we have fallen out plenty of times, we both know the routine, but we dance the steps each time, going through the motions. So I wait.

 

“Look Danny, I didn’t mean what I said, I’m just worried about you that’s all”

 

“Thanks Leigh, I know I haven’t been out much, I promise thats all gonna change soon.”

 

“well why not come out tonight?”

 

“I’ve got something to do tonight, somewhere to be. What about a couple of drinks Sunday afternoon, after a spot of fishing.”

 

“You’re on, im gonna hold you to that”

 

“Look if you need to talk mate, just give me a ring”

 

“Ok”

 

I know he means it, but talking isn’t going to help with this problem. How could I talk about this problem to anybody? How could you admit to anyone that you are a Coward? No this requires action; the time for talking is over.

 

“Ok mate, Sunday then”

 

“Sunday”

 

I hear Leigh leave this time for real, the creaking of the garden gate, and now I’m alone again. So how did I come to the conclusion that I’m a Coward? Well it happened the night of the wedding, one of the local bullies was giving the girls a bit of hassle on the dance floor and one of the girls said that someone should tell him to stop. I jumped on the opportunity to do my knight in shining armour routine and went over to him to tell him to calm it down, tapped him on the shoulder and that’s when my world changed, he turned, I started to tell him, and then headbutted me full force.

 

My nose exploded and I went down quickly, he just turned around and kept on trying to dirty dance with increasingly uninterested girls as if nothing had happened. I ran to the toilets, feebly trying to keep the river of blood that was pouring out of my nose from spilling out of my hands and onto the floor. After a few minutes Paul came to check on me, he told me that Big Dave was going to sort it out. I had to go and see.

 

I poked my head through the function doors, toilet tissue stuffed up each nostril and blood drying on my white shirt, as I watched Big Dave got close enough to this thug to grab him, he started running him towards the fire exit, bouncing him of a table as they went, somehow they got split apart and the guy took a swing at Big Dave, Dave obviously took this personally because he changed tactics, no longer interested in throwing him out the exit he threw him to the ground and choked him unconscious instead. I was in awe of how Dave handled himself.

 

Most men think that they can handle themselves in a fight, in fact we all do, we might back down when the opportunity to fight presents itself but 10 minutes later we will be sat in a pub saying how lucky the other fucker was, if there had been a fight he’d probably be dead by now. We all have an idea that we are invincible, that if it came down to it and we absolutely had to, we would find the strength from somewhere deep inside to fight 100 men if need be. People like Dave have it easy, they just don’t know it. They don’t feel the fear; they never have to face the realisation that they aren’t invincible because they can have a scrap and come out of it ok.

 

So how does this make me a coward? Ever since that headbutt brought me crashing down to earth with the realisation that I can be hurt, and that I can’t hold my own in a fight, I have come to realise that I would no longer act the same in such a situation. I cannot rely on myself to do the right thing for fear of getting hurt. Before the incident if I had come across a couple of lads assaulting a young girl down a back street somewhere, I would have leap to her rescue, safe in the knowledge that right was on my side.

 

But now? Now I would call the police but I wouldn’t dare tackle them. That headbutt took something from me, and I hate myself for it, I can’t live with the shame. And so I must do something about it. And this has brought me to tonight. I haven’t got much time left. Better get on with it.

 

I pick up the Razor.

 

Soon, I am ready. I am dry from the shower, clean shaven and dressed. If my friends could see me in this attire they would probably take the piss, which is one of the reasons I haven’t told them where I am going. Another is because as good as their intention are they would go from work to the pub to bed for the rest of their lives, if I want to change that rhythm in my own life I need to see less of them, to stop them from pulling me down. I look in the mirror to see how well this new clothing looks on me. A pair of shorts not unsimilar to a surfers and a rash guard, a tight fitting top.

 

You see tonight is the first night of the new me, unable to live with the shame of my cowardly thoughts I have decided to join a mixed martial arts gym. With time I will learn to fight, much like Big Dave, and I will never have to let fear control my actions. I will be able to act and will have the strength and skill to back up those actions.

 

I look in the mirror “wish me luck” I say to my reflection.

 

I think I may need it.

Posted
A story sponsored by MMA? :D

 

think i should try and get some money out of myself for it? :D

 

this is part of a series im doing over on the cagewarriors forums, i wanted the stories to cover the reasons for and the outcome of violence. mostly people just want to hear more about the adventures of Big Dave.

 

i thought i might as well post them here too.

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