Cold air rushed past his ears and neck. The brutal winter had finally come, yet he wouldn’t complain, he’d stick it through, do his job and get on with life. Even if that life wasn’t what he’d wanted.

The buildings towered above him left and right, yet the wind still managed to creep its way into the centre of London, blowing this way and that, down the allies, through the back streets and coming to a full blown storm down Oxford Street. His usual customer sat in the doorstep of an unimportant shop, hood up, cap on, his trainers sparkling white, the aluminous purple Adidas sign shining. The figure with the shoes in the doorway stood up, he was big. In comparison to his dealer he was massive. His head hung slightly, keeping from hitting the pillar above him. As the dealer got closer, he nodded his head in a jolty motion.

‘Cool. What you got for me?’ The tall boy questioned moving slowly towards his dealer, he pulled his hood and hat off leaving them hanging at his back, stroking his shaven head and shivering he held out his hand. A small bag was dropped into the open palm,

‘Peng,’ The dealer replied, a smile appearing on his lips, ‘got it just for you.’ he lied shaking the boys hand and puling him in for a hug. ‘I got to breeze, but bless, yea?’ he lied again turning slowly back around and leaving the figure in the doorway.

Life - not the life he wanted. Shane rubbed his hands over his face pushing down on his temples. It was dark, yet the lights of the continuous traffic lit up the large road. He wanted to be anywhere except there, in the centre of London - making his living from dealing. His normal rout home would have taken him up back allies, past a couple of broken down pubs and houses, up the staircase with graffiti plastering the walls and into his flat. That night however he didn’t want to walk that way, in fact he didn’t want to go home to his smelly, mouldy, smoke filled alcoholic inhabitant flat at all. You could hear the people two floors down having sex for Christ’s sake.

The houses were huge, white, black picket fenced, four floors, and detached. Alone, no one else could invade their privacy, and Shane could have betted that the owners didn’t live of benefits and down a bottle of jinn every couple of hours. He stood at the black gate, looking up towards the big oak door imagining his life there.

He would awake in the morning to the smell of tea and toast being made, a smile already on his face. He’d jump out of bed and leap down the stairs, kissing his mother on the cheek as she butters his toast, ‘what would I do without you!’ He’d sigh, she’d laugh. His tie would be on and his suit pristine. Work that day would not involve being out until god know’s what time in the morning dropping off for a man who could easily stab you, or worse.

‘Hey!’

Shane woke from his fantasy, the cheesy smile and tilted head retreating, and fast, he began to run away from the white house with black picket fencing, the bag on his back dug in. As he turned his head get one last glimp’s at the life he was never born in to, a girl stood there, pyjamas on, and a book held in her hands; she looked nice. He turned back and continued to run.

Rubbing his hands on his head and pressing harder on the temples and eyes, Shane awoke, still tired. He threw off his slightly damp covers, and looked over at his brothers bed. He wasn’t in, he was never in. Lifting himself from bed he staggered to the bathroom, the door was locked and water was flooding onto the landing. He banged loudly on the door,

‘Shut up! Stop that racket!’ A heavy gruffled voice shouted from the room directly behind him, Shane knocked again louder on the bathroom door, ‘I said shut the…’

‘Mums locked herself in the bathroom again!’ Shane shouted angrily back, turning to face his dads bedroom door and knock loudly on that one instead. Before his dad had time to get up, Shane went back to his room, pulling out a pair of jogging bottoms and a hoody. Two doors down, his nana lived alone, she never minded a visit from her grandson.

‘Nana?’ Shane talked to the light blue door, knocking lightly. Moments later the door slowly opened and a pair of eyes peered through the small gap made by the pensioner.

‘Who is it?’ She asked wearily peering her head round the door, enough to see her greying hair and walking stick.

‘Nana, I told you, don’t open you door without the latch on.’ Shane laughed pushing the door open a little more and kissing his Gran on the cheek, ‘Can I use your shower again?’ The old woman began retreating from the door hitting her grandson around the ankles with her stick,

‘No ones getting through this door lad, I’m to quick,’ with that she poked Shane in the stomach making him keel over, ‘Oh! Oh!’ She began to fluster, but a quick smirk from the young lads face taught her that he was fine, ‘You…!’

He laughed again pulling the frail woman to his side where she barely came up to his shoulders,

‘What about that shower nana?’

That night was the same, Shane wondered the streets, his little bag on his back containing even smaller bags inside, he’d do his job, get his money, do his job, get his money, do his job, get his money, and then do his job again. The repetition of the streets and people around him, was frustrating. Each boy, man, kid, hoody, tracksuit, trainers, ’Cool,’ ’Safe,’ ’What’s it saying?’ Yet each night he’d end with the tall boy in the shop doorway.

‘Do you get fed up Tee?’ Shane sighed to the tall boy that evening. They were sat in the unimportant shop doorway, passing the spliff to and throw.

‘Nahh,’ smoke escaped his lips leaving a heavy smog in the doorway, ’nahh,’ he repeated handing it back to Shane.

‘Nahh, me either.’ Shane replied sighing and looking down at his drug, taking another couple of tokes. As he handed it back to Tee a black polo was rolling slowly up beside them, the already busy road became busier as police car sirens blinded the street with their blaring noise and flashing lights. Shane swore, threw down the spliff and pulled the bag tightly onto his back. The black car continued to drive slowly up to Shane and Tee in the unimportant shop window,

‘What are they doing? Do they want to get us noticed,’ Tee exclaimed, wondering if he should stash his weed down the side of the shop, surely the police wouldn’t be after him? Shane stopped moving and stared at the black polo, he recognised that car. Then it hit, it was his brothers mates and he could bet his brother was in it and the police were after them. Thanks to the traffic holding the police up Shane had time to jog up to his brother and knock on the car window,

‘What do you think your doing Jack? What the…’

‘Shut up and get in,’ his brother shouted through the window back at him, you couldn’t see Jack’s face but Shane could picture it; thin, bags under his eyes, stubble around his chin and short dark brown hair, yet nothing prepared the younger brother for the look in Jacks eyes.

Once in the car Shane realised the seriousness of the situation, they were all drunk, the smell of Jack Daniel’s and smoke laid heavily in the air. There was only one thing that was sober. He was small, blond, innocent and around the age of thirteen. Shane pointed to the boy speechless,

‘What?’

Jack looked around from the front passenger seat, and there was that look. The, ‘I’m in rouble Shane and I need you to do something for me,’ look. His eyes had a deeper rim of purple around them, the whites of his eyes could barely be seen and Shane could have almost seen a blood vessel pop. Please don’t let this be about the little boy. Please don’t let it be about him.

The sirens continued to blare in the background but Shane couldn’t hear them. The polo continued swaying to and throw through the busy traffic, almost hitting a business man and his girlfriend walking across the traffic lights. The streets were packed with families, couples and groups making they way home from the west end performances, yet the black car didn’t take notice of them, continuing on their escape from the police. Shane sat in the back squished between the young boy and a drunken friend of Jacks, listening intently and petrified at what his brother was asking him to do.

‘Shane, you’re my brother, you gotta do this. I need you bruv more than ever,’ he repeated in his drunken, drug related stupor, ‘He was there at the wrong time, if he says anything I’m locked up blud.’ The young boy began to cry, the sound of his pain and worry tearing through Shane’s heart, one look at the terrified kid and Shane could have cried himself. What did his brother expect him to do about it? ’Shane, your ready.’

With that, the younger brother knew what his sibling meant, his initiation had began.

‘Jack, I cant do this.’

‘What do you mean you cant do this?’

‘I cant do it, man.’

‘Bruv, your gunna do it.’

‘No.’

‘Yea, other wise your be the one going down for the death of the prick I stabbed, your be the sorry twat who gets bummed in prison. You will do it.’ Shane knew his brother wasn’t lying, he was known to have done it before, frame someone else for his wrong doings. Shane nodded once, looking back down at his hands,

‘Give me that booda,’ he shouted at the youth sat next to him, sparking as he spoke. He took two sharp draws and looked back to his brother, ‘what do you want me to do?’

The black polo escaped the police, and Shane walked back home alone wondering how he was in this mess. Tonight was nothing he had expected, his brother had killed someone and Shane didn’t even want to know what for. Yet he was the one being forced into taking an innocent young life away, for what - to keep a sick man out of prison, keeping a murdering scum from the pen. Shane was livid, frustrated, fed up, tired. But most of all terrified. He again, didn’t want to go home that night, he would rather go back to the black gate and think things through.

As the gate approached and the inner city dimmed and only a few cars slowly left their pollution behind, he leaned against the fence, his head in his hands. If he ran, the boy would be left to die for sure, Jack wouldn’t let him go, one of his boys would do it. Stab him to death, shoot him - murder the poor blond boy. If he stayed, he would have to do it. Or he would be stabbed a couple of times himself, could Jack do that to him?

‘You look worried,’ The voice startled Shane, he jumped up pulling the bag hard onto his back, standing up sharply and taking a step backwards. A girl stood their, her hair hanging down her back, long and blond. Big blue eyes peered at him, she blinked. Her eyes were huge. ‘are you going to answer. What’s wrong?’ She shifted her position, and pushed her long hair back, it shimmered in the moonlight. Shane, took another step back.

‘Nothing.’ He replied leaning back on the fence an turning away from the girl. She sighed,

‘I’m worried.’ She stated, following Shane and leaning next to him so their faces were close.

‘Weren’t you ever told its dangerous to talk to strangers.’ Shane spoke unenthusiastically looking her strait in the eyes. They engulfed him, wide and intelligent, the blue was like no other blue he had seen, like an ocean full of secrets and no fear. She laughed a little, whispering,

‘I don’t think you’re a stranger,’ He looked at her, his eyes focused on hers, ‘I’ve seen you around here.’ She said a little louder, leaning back away from him. She had a subtlety about her, she was slender and her voice kept the tone of secrecy her eyes would never move away from his.

‘Nahh, your thinking of someone else. This is he first time I’ve bin here.’ He lied running his hands through his hair and pushing down on his temples again - he should cover his tracks now, just in case he does kill the blond boy. Shane jumped. The blond boy, with big blue eyes. Surely not, surely it couldn’t be.

‘No, its definitely you.’ She nodded encouraging her theory, ‘I saw you hear yesterday.’ Shane nodded vaguely, they looked alike. ‘You looked deep in thought yesterday, I didn’t want to disturb you but I was intrigued. I must admit though, you look more worried today.’ What was she, Shane thought, a stalker. She was distracting, he needed to think things through, could the young blond boy be her brother - did things work out that way, was the world really that small? They stood in silence together for some time, although Shane’s worries wanted him to move on, go somewhere else away from the strange girl, he felt her presence comforting.

’My brothers missing.’ She confirmed. Shane’s world began to spin, so it was her brother. ‘He’s only eleven, my mothers worried even though its only been a couple of hours. London’s a big place you know.’

‘Not big enough,’ Shane cringed, eleven. Eleven years old, how could Jack think he was a threat, beat him up, scare him, anything. But why kill him. He looked up at the girl tears welling in his eyes, her eyes were glimmering too. He brushed them back, and the sight of one of hers spilling over the edge gave him the oddest urge to brush that back too, she got there before him.

‘Your right, its not big enough.’ She repeated making Shane wonder what she was on about.

‘You have nothing to complain about.’ Shane aimed nastily at her, ‘You don’t know what it’s like out there.’ He pointed furiously to the streets behind him, ‘You live behind these walls, locked in your perfect life, with your perfect family.’

She nodded in agreement, ‘Locked, is the perfect word,’ she laughed, her smile showing beautiful white teeth, her lips making the perfect heart shape. He couldn’t resist, he smiled. She made him happy, she made him forget. Yet every time he looked into those wide blue eyes an echo of the small boy flooded back to his memory. He had to get away from her. The smile stopped and immediately hers followed, ‘your leaving?’ She questioned glancing towards her mansion. Shane nodded slowly pulling his bag onto his back once again,

‘I have to.’ He said simply.

‘I don’t believe that for one second. You don’t look like the type of boy with rules.’ She didn’t know what she was on about, rules, she couldn’t contemplate the rules his brother had set straight to him. ‘My names Lacey.’

That night Shane lay in his damp bed thinking about her, about how her eyes drew him in, her lips making that perfect heart shape, about how it was her brother he was going to kill - how that one drop of water that escaped those ocean like eyes, would turn into a thousand drops. It broke his heart to think of that, to think of how many tears he would cause, how many hearts he would break. There would be no sleeping tonight.

The morning came, and his brother still hadn’t returned home. Shane hoped this was a good thing, that he was still waiting for his brother to meet him that night; Central Hyde Park. The young boy would be alive and well for at least one more day. Although it was morning, Shane didn’t move from the position he lied in all night, he thought and thought about what he was to do that day. How he could possibly stop the boys death, yet prevent his own as well. After several hours laying there, silent and not moving he made his way to the shower. The water felt heavy, like a weight pushing down on him - not the relief he had hopped for. He walked the few steps to his nana’s flat, knocking lightly on the door as usual, kissing her on the cheek and offering her any assistance. She denied him and he was on his way once more. This time without the small bag containing smaller bags on his back. He knew where he was heading.

The black gate appeared to soon, he panicked, rubbing his temples and gathering his thoughts together. How would he word this? The house was quiet, the curtains weren’t moving and no sign of movement appeared behind the windows. That seemed the most plausible reason to why Shane appeared on the porch step lifting the knocker and letting it go with a loud bang. No-one answered, so a second knock fell, Shane felt hollow, alone and even more frightened. Even though he was eighteen, almost an adult, he felt six, small in comparison to the gigantic intimidating house in front of him. He sighed not knowing what else to do, in fact even if he did tell Lacey what his brother wanted him to do, he still didn’t know what the plan was after that. He felt his feet move beneath him, he turned slowly beginning to step when the door slowly opened and a familiar pretty face appeared. He spun back around stepping a little to close to the girl with big blue eyes, there faces were inches apart yet she wasn’t startled. She took his face in her hands,

‘What do you know Shane?’ She whispered, her warm breath hovering between the inches of air between them.

They walked through the streets of London together, Shane explaining that Hyde Park was the place he was expected to begin his initiation. At this Lacey laughed, stopping their walk and facing him, ‘Initiation,’ She chuckled again humourlessly, ‘what does your brother think he is, the mafia?’ She talked seriously this time, Shane guessed worrying for her brother.

‘You could say that.’ He paused biting his lip slightly, ‘He’s a big drug dealer, he knows people, and there normally scared of him.’ Shane couldn’t explain how dangerous his brother could be…

‘I guess he expects you to follow in his footsteps.’ She stated. Her brother was close to death yet she worried about Shane, a thug, she worried how he would turn out. Shane shrugged it off,

‘It doesn’t matter about me, we need to do something about your brother.’ Lacey’s comment back was inevitable.

‘We should tell the police.’

‘Tell the police! Id be killed, id be hunted by everyone I know.’ Shane’s anger took control, ‘My dad would hunt me down, do you realise what would happen to me?’ Lacey took his hand, placing both her’s over his.

‘Do you know what will happen to my mother?’ She replied, looking Shane in the eyes, ‘She’s already lost her husband, she couldn’t deal with the one thing that reminds her of him dying as well.’

Night fell on the streets of London, and the Saturday night traffic boomed. Taxi’s swayed this way and that, picking and dropping people off here and there. The double-decker busses came to a standstill in the midnight traffic that never ceased, and Shane stood in the unimportant doorway with Tee, smoking silently.

‘What’s up with you?’ Tee questioned. Shane didn’t hear him but took another toke of his spliff, watching the lights pass on the road beside him. Sirens sounded in the background and Shane flinched. ‘What’s up with you bruv, your flinching at everything.’ Shane passed the booda back to Tee without looking and began walking towards Hyde Park. ‘Oi,’ Tee shouted after him, ‘Oi, where you goin?’ Shane still didn’t reply, scared that what would come out of his lips would cause Tee to flip out, turn on his friend for the sake of reputation.

One in Hyde park the nerves kicked into Shane, the darkness was too much, the silence blinded him. One thought kept him walking inward towards the centre of the park, her.

‘Shane.’ Her voice was like a saviour, he spun around looking for her in the darkness, looking for the shimmer of blond under the moonlight.

‘What are you doing here? I told you not to come.’ He spoke blindly to the surrounding area. She appeared, to the left of where he was facing, her hair tied back in a loose bun, a pair of jeans with a cardigan, simple but she looked brilliant. He walked up to her, placing his hands on her chin, she’d been crying - her eyes didn’t shine like they did the night before, the ocean was slowly being drained.

‘I came to say thank you.’ She whispered in her secret voice, ‘Thank you for…’ But she couldn’t finish her sentence - Shane had pushed his lips to hers, not a centimetre of air lay between their lips, held firmly in place. One hand moved through her locks of blond and the other reached her hand. Why he kissed her, he didn’t know - it was spontaneous, yet the feeling whilst they stood their kissing in the middle of Hyde park was phenomenal, his heart pounded in his chest and his cheek’s flustered. This moment should never end.

‘Shane?’ A familiar voice sounded, Shane immediately spun round knocking Lacey to the floor in the rush, she yelped. ‘What are you playing at?’ It was then that the sirens got louder, the lights flashing across the field showing all their faces. Jacks was blood thirsty, angry shadows danced over his face, and the knife he held in his hand glistened. Being held next to him was the young boy, his face soaked with tears, blood stain on his cheek and clothes muddy and torn.

‘What have you bin doing with him Jack? He’s eleven! Eleven!’ Shane shouted, anger thundering from his mouth and every muscle in his body. Jack shook his head in disappointment,

‘Tell me you didn’t do this Shane? Bruv?’ Shane stood there, mouth clamped tightly, jaw bones showing. ’Shane?’ A tone of fury etched in Jacks tone. ’Shane?’ The fury was obvious, he lurched forwards just as the police car skidded to a halt feet away from the scuffling brothers. Lacey began screaming, running for her younger brother, a police man caught her around the waist, but she freed herself lunging and gabbing her younger sibling into her arms. They held each other tightly, lied on the floor together, whilst three youths kicked them repetitively. The police car turned out to be a riot van, the police tore the three hoodlums away from the girl and her brother. They were handcuffed and put into the back of the van. It took the full six police officers to tear the two brothers apart, the knife dripped of blood yet whose blood it was, no one knew.

Every one stood there state of shock. Silence. The vices were muffled, getting quieter, quieter. Silence.

Shane stood there swaying, he felt his feet give way first, he landed onto his knees, and eventually felt his face press hard against the mud. A warm sensation smothered his abdomen. Silence, except one noise. A voice he would never forget. His up town girl, his very own urban chick living in the heart of London, where the traffic never ceased and the place just wasn’t dam big enough.

‘Shane!’
’Please!’
’Please no!’

’Thank you.’

So the beautiful ocean spilt everywhere anyway

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 08.05.2010

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