ESCAPE

          Nikki cried out as his stepfather’s thick leather belt whipped across his skin. He flinched, huddling against the wall and trying to shield himself from the blows. Another sharp crack brought a stinging pain across his shoulder. Nikki stifled sobs as the leather left another swollen mark on his skin. He reflexively moved his hand to cover the welt, but another swing from the belt set his fingers on fire. Pain seared his body, and the stings kept coming.
          “What did I tell you? Are you stupid? Did you think I was fucking joking?” Ken’s sharp voice rang through the dark, empty house. One loud crack after another. Nikki shook his head, pleading. “No, sir!” His stepfather jerked him up off the floor and slammed him roughly against the wall. “So you deliberately disobeyed me?”
          Nikki opened his mouth, trying to find an answer that would stop Ken's tirade. Before a sound escaped his lips, Ken's strong fist backhanded him, sending him reeling. The strike was dizzying and Nikki’s vision blurred with the impact. He cried and held his jaw with his casted arm. He stood there trembling, arms folded defensively as his stepfather I paused to finish another beer, tossing the empty can onto the floor. The man shot a hateful look at Nikki, who stood there like a wet puppy, sniffling quietly with his eyes closed in a pained expression, already feeling the next strike.
          The loud smack and the pain of another blow landing across his stomach caused Nikki to grip his torso. He grimaced as Ken struck him again and again. He doubled over and dropped to his knees. “Please…” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, please stop!"
          Ken kicked him hard in the ribs. “He’s never gone so far as to kick or punch me before,” Naoki thought fearfully. He began to panic. He tried to curl into a defensive ball, but it made little difference. Ken staggered drunkenly, nearly falling.
          Nikki took the opportunity to bolt down the hall, running as fast as he could. In the small, run-down old house, there was no room for escape and he was soon cornered in the kitchen. His stepfather roared.
          “You little piece of shit! The only reason I ever put up with you was because of your whore mother, but in reality she doesn’t even give two fucks about you! You were a fucking accident!” He gesticulated wildly as he yelled, and the belt clipped Nikki across the face. His cheek and the side of his pale lips darkened to a bright red almost instantly.
          Nikki felt himself shaking terribly. “Please, please let it be over...” he begged silently. He blocked out his stepfather’s hateful words and tried to brace himself against the violent beating he endured. “No,” he thought. “He won’t ever stop.”
          Nikki scrambled around quickly, trying to find anything he could use to defend himself. As soon as he moved, Ken caught a fistful of his shaggy, black hair and slammed him against the wall. "You little punk, I’m sick and tired of your shit! Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!"
          Ken tried to grip him by the jaw, but in his drunken stupor, his hand clawed around Nikki's throat. Nikki panicked. He began to fear for his life as he felt Ken's death grip tightening around his throat.
          He flailed his arms around, trying to feel for anything he could use as a weapon. At first, he felt nothing but the bare counter until his bruised fingers finally rested on something hard. A cast iron frying pan. Without thinking, he swung it hard, cracking his stepfather in the side of the head, sending him reeling. The man toppled back and hit the floor.
          Nikki screamed at him through his angry tears. “You’re wrong, asshole! It’s me that’s sick of your shit! I never did anything but work like a slave for you and mom. All I ever wanted was for you guys to love me and treat me like I fucking mattered to someone! I never deserved to be treated this way!”
          Ken cursed him under his breath and began to pull himself to his feet. Nikki didn’t let up, bringing the frying pan straight down on his head. Ken fell flat on his back, struggling against Nikki who put all of his force into trying to bash his skull in. Ken was far too drunk and disoriented after the first two blows to compete with the slender, athletic youth. Even with a broken arm, Nikki brought the skillet down again and again on his cruel abuser’s head.
          Panting and sobbing, he finally dropped the pan when he realized the man lie motionless beneath him. There was blood everywhere. Naoki trembled violently. He cried as his rage subsided and a panic rose within him. “Is he dead? Oh my god, I killed him!”
          He tried to stand, but stumbled and fell back to his knees. Hyperventilating, he climbed to his feet and ran out the back door. He raced down the street, gripped with fear. He thought of facing the rest of his life in a dark prison cell, of never seeing Hana again. These thoughts terrified him and drove him, pushing him to run until his lungs screamed for air. His chest heaved as he panted hard. He was drenched in sweat. No one on the street seemed to notice him. His legs burned and threatened to collapse underneath of him at any second as he shakily dragged himself onto Casey's front porch.
          Still gasping for breath, he opened the door without ringing the bell and let himself inside. Nikki crept through the dark house, feeling his way past the familiar layout of the living room. He felt his heart pounding, and feared that this heavy breathing would alert the household to his presence. He tiptoed quietly to the staircase and moved to the top as silently as possible. Casey's father worked early and often got quite upset if disturbed during the night. He slipped down the hall to his friend’s bedroom. He breathed a heavy sigh and opened the door quietly. The dull glow of the computer screen was the only source of light as he stepped into the room.
          Casey lie fast asleep in his large, plush bed. Nikki delicately climbed into the bed with him and wrapped his casted arm tightly around his sleeping friend. He tried to remain silent, biting his lip as his eyes filled with frightened tears. He held his friend close, resting his forehead against Casey's back. Casey moaned softly in his softly in his sleep. He reached his arm up and held Nikki’s hand as he cried. Nikki hugged him tighter.
          Casey opened his eyes sleepily as he realized that there was another person in his bed. He looked at the black cast across his chest, and turned to see who was behind him. “Nikki?” he asked quietly. Nikki sniffled. “Casey, it’s me… I’m sorry I woke you up, but I really need your help.”
          Casey sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Nikki, what happened to your arm? What’s wrong?” Nikki pulled himself upright and wiped his eyes. “I killed Ken,” he said, his voice trembling. “I murdered him.”
          Casey's golden eyes grew wide with disbelief. He clicked his bedside lamp on, bathing the room in warm light. He looked at Nikki closely. In the light he could see flecks of blood spattered on his face. His usually bright, expressive black eyes were dull and tired and red from crying, and a dark pink mark reached from his thin cheek to the side of his mouth. Casey was at a loss for words. He carefully lifted up Nikki’s t-shirt, looking at his arms, back and stomach. Nikki sat in silence, his eyes shut tight. Dark welts had formed across his body.
          Casey shook his head in disbelief. “God, what did he do to you, Nikki?” Nikki’s voice shuddered. “He was drunk and he wouldn’t stop… He just kept hitting me…” Casey's mind raced. Anger boiled inside of him. How could this have gone on for so long that it came to this point? Why didn't anyone stop this sooner? He knew that he was just as guilty of turning a blind eye as everyone else and he hated himself for it. He scolded himself for feeling proud of Nikki.
          He gently touched Nikki's cheek. “Nikki… you have to go. You know that I love you and would do anything for you, but if Ken is really dead, the police will come looking for you. They’ll come here for sure."
          Nikki’s heart sank and he looked at his friend with uncertainty. Casey hugged him, patting him comfortingly. “Don’t worry. I didn't help you when I should have, so I’m going to help you any way I can now. I have a lot of money that I've been saving for my med school bills but I’m going to give it to you. Please, don’t object. You need it more than I do right now. I’ll get what I can from the ATM tonight. Take that and go somewhere, anywhere far away from here. I’ll transfer the rest to your bank account tomorrow. You should have about ten thousand dollars altogether. Take it and go someplace safe. Start a new life, where you can be safe and happy.”
          Nikki choked up and hugged his friend tightly. “I’ll pay you back everything, I swear.” Casey shook his head. “Don’t,” he said, patting Nikki’s shaggy hair. “Just get somewhere safe, ok?”
          Nikki furrowed his brow, a very solemn expression on his face. “Where should I go? Everyone I know is here.” Casey nodded. "If you're hiding from the police, you need to go someplace where you don't know anyone." He thought for a moment. “What about your dad?” he asked. “I mean your biological father. Where does he live?” Nikki wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I don’t know. I've never met him. All I have is a photo of him and mom from years ago. It’s got an address on the back, but what if he doesn’t even live there anymore?"
          Casey softly touched the mark on the side of Nikki’s face. “It’s your best chance. If he doesn’t, as long as you know his name, you could look him up in the phone book. We’ve just got to get you out of here before anyone realizes what’s happened.” Nikki looked at the floor, a deep frown of concern blatant across his face. He nodded slowly. “Alright, let’s get this done, then.”

EPILOGUE

Ring…

Ring… Ring…

          “'Hey, it's Nikki. I can't come to the phone right now. Leave me a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can. Bye.' At the tone, please record your message.”

Beep.

          “Nikki… It’s Hana. I… um. God, I don't even know what to say. I saw you on the street the other day, and I know you saw me. I just… You just disappeared, Nikki. I never thought I'd see you again. You look so different, I almost didn’t recognize you. You were like a ghost. I didn’t know what to think. I started feeling all of these emotions and everything suddenly felt different.
          "Hey, listen. That thing with Jake… it’s not what you think. I'm just working for him, making a little extra on the side. I just... God, what am I saying? Nikki…
          “When I saw you standing there… you just looked so stricken. I mean, what the hell did you think was going to happen after you just left me like that? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I wanted to call out to you so badly, to run to you and welcome you home, but I just couldn’t. Everything's different now.
          “Seeing you just got me thinking… about the old days. Everything was so much better back then, so much simpler. Remember how we used to sneak into the pool at Casey’s and go swimming after dark? Or the way we used to lie together in the park for hours and just talk about nothing. Or the time we built the snow castle together and laid in there and had sex? No, we made love…
          “Look, I know you probably don’t want to hear from me... God, you probably hate me... I just can't stop replaying those memories over and over.
          "Can we just talk? If you’ll give me the chance, I’d really like to start over. I just… I miss you. I just miss you so much. I'm so sorry for everything. Please, Nikki… I love you…”

Click.

PROLOGUE

          Sirens wailed. Hands moved quickly in space. Blood pooled on the deck.
          In the back of an ambulance, paramedics worked furiously to save a young man's life. His pale skin seemed almost ghostly in the harsh, fluorescent light. His lithe body lie limp and still, his long, black hair matted with blood.
          Two paramedics and an EMT did everything they could to keep the boy alive. Dave, the senior paramedic on scene and a twenty-two year veteran of the department, spoke with a sense of urgency and calm authority. “Spike a bag while I get the IV.”
          His friend and co-worker, Mark, with three years on the job, snapped open the cabinet with the saline bags and IV sets and grabbed one of each. Checking the tubing, he saw the familiar “15 drop” and tore open the plastic bag.
          The junior man in the back of the ambulance, an EMT basic named Kyle, with just three months on the job, used trauma shears to carefully cut away the patient’s shirt. As quickly as he could, he applied four lead wires and stickers  attached to a heart monitor and wrapped the blood pressure cuff around the boy’s slender arm. He pressed the button marked NIBP. He stared down at the patient, filled with disgust and pity at the sight of his battered and bloody face. “Jeez, look at this guy...” he said. “He looks like he got hit by a truck.” He turned his attention and watched the two paramedics as they rushed to save the boy’s life.
          Dave pushed the thick IV needle into the boy’s left arm with practiced precision, just at the crook of his elbow. Working steadily, he took the IV tubing from Mark and screwed it into the IV set. Mark moved quickly to tape down the tubing. They were like two parts of the same well-oiled machine, working together to save a life.
          “He’s only breathing about four times a minute, he's got massive facial trauma and we’ve got to secure an airway. We're going to have to intubate him." Dave said with a serious expression.
          Kyle's nerves were on edge. He watched as Dave unrolled the pertrach package. The senior paramedic felt the young patient's throat with his thick, strong fingers. Using a small razor knife, Dave pressed down, slicing through skin like butter. He cut a small incision in the patient’s throat and pushed the plastic tubing through. Pulling the guide needle out, he secured the device in place with a nylon strap and connected the bag-valve.
          “C’mon kid,” Dave said, pushing the bag toward Kyle. “Breathe for him.” Doing as he was told, Kyle held the bag in place and began to rhythmically squeeze and push oxygen into the unconscious boy's lungs. His hands trembled. “Slow down a little,” Dave said. “One every five or six seconds, no faster.”
          Kyle took a deep breath. He forced himself to be calm and slow down. His job was to help save lives but this kid was dying. "He can't be any older than me..." he thought.
          Reaching up to the boy’s face, Dave used his thumbs to open the patient's eyes, looking closely at his pupils. “Got a left three and a right six here,” he said. “Mark, you want to call this in?”
          “I’m on it,” Mark said, reaching for the cell phone. Pushing the preset numbers, he dialed the closest Level One Trauma Center. He heard the emergency room nurse answer and began.
          “Valley North, this is Medic Fifteen, we’ve got a male, approximately twenty-five years old with massive trauma to the head and face.” He looked at the heart monitor and the notes Dave had written. “Blood pressure is one-ten over sixty, pulse is one-thirty-two. We’ve got a sixteen guage in his right AC and a pertrach in. He’s got serious facial trauma. His left pupil is three millimeters and his right is six. We’re bagging him with high flow O2 and checking him for other injuries now.”
          “Ok, Medic Fifteen,” the voice on the phone said. “We’ll have a room for you. Let us know if there’s any changes.”
          “Alright,” Mark said as he hung up. Tossing the phone into a countertop basket, he began to cut and tear away the rest of the boy’s clothing, checking his body for broken bones and lacerations as he did.
          Dave worked to get a second set of vital signs. “Blood pressure and pulse are stable,” he said. "I’m going to slow the drip to TKO.” He turned his attention to Mark as he pulled away the cut up pieces of the patient’s jeans.
          “Any ID?”
          "No, nothing."
          Steadily squeezing and releasing the flexible plastic oxygen bag, Kyle looked down at the boy’s pale, nearly lifeless face and wondered if this might be the first time he watched a person die.
          Before his eyes, the boy’s gaunt, bloody face suddenly distorted with a twist of pain, his eyes opening slowly. He looked around with growing alarm, his dark eyes glassy and distorted.
          The young EMT's expression turned from concern to shock. "Oh, shit!"

INK

          On an especially hot afternoon, Nikki, Jake and Hana all lie in the plush, green grass in the park beneath the shade of the largest tree, watching shapeless clouds drift by. There were few words spoken as each person milled their own thoughts around in their heads. There was a comfortable feeling of contentment between them.
          Suddenly, Hana broke the silence. “I want a tattoo." She said, casually staring into the bright blue sky. The two boys turned their heads to look at her. “Are you serious?” Nikki asked. "Why?" Still gazing at the clouds, Hana replied. “It’s just something that I’ve been thinking about for a while, and I’ve decided that it’s what I want to do.”
          Jake looked at her with a pensive expression. Eager for the chance to impress Hana, he spoke up. “If you’re really serious, Hana, I know somebody who does tattoos… He works out of his apartment so there are no shop fees. It’s a lot cheaper and he doesn’t check IDs.”
          Nikki scoffed. “Why would you know someone who does tattoos?” Jake opened his mouth indignantly to answer, but Hana interrupted before he could speak, her interest fully peaked. "Can we go today?”
          Jake stammered, surprised at Hana’s eagerness. “Uh, I- I guess we can see. I mean, usually you can't just do these things spur of the moment, so don't get your hopes up, but I can always call him and see if he's busy.” He tried to sound knowledgeable on the subject. Hana sat up excitedly. “Please?” Jake nodded and stood up, brushing the grass from his dark jeans and pulled out his cell phone. He walked a few feet away and dialed a number.
          Nikki sat up to match Hana. He was sure that this was just another one of her wild impulses. “Hana, have you really given this enough thought? I mean, you’re still pretty young. What will it look like when you’re seventy? You won’t even be able to tell what it is through all the wrinkles.” Hana playfully pushed Nikki away. “If I live to be seventy, I probably won’t even remember it’s there. I plan on dying young anyway.” She said, only half-joking.
          Nikki played with her hair absentmindedly, thinking. “What if your parents find out?” He asked. “You know they’ll just blame me like they always do.” Hana shook her head. "They won't see it," she said. "I've decided to get it on my lower back. Tidy, out of the way, but will look sexy when I wear my bikinis. I think it's a great choice."
          Nikki half-frowned. "What about what I think?" This was his last attempt at talking her out of it. Knowing Hana, by this point her mind was already made up. She always did this. She always got some crazy idea in her head, and he somehow got roped in and took the blame when things went wrong. Like the time she had impulsively chopped all of her hair off because she wanted to feel "liberated," or the time she went around trying to start a suicide pact because she never wanted to grow old but didn't want to die alone.
          "What's wrong with growing old anyway?" Nikki thought. "It's just another part of life, and I can't imagine it'd be all too bad if you have someone to share it with. It's a much better option than suicide, at least." Nikki imagined himself as an old man, bent with age, still wearing crazy colors in his hair and dressed in black. He imagined Hana as a petite old woman with a sagging black smudge on her lower back.
          He suddenly realized she had been talking to him. "...and it's my body anyway so it's my right to do with it as I please. Women have fought too long to be oppressed by men's ideas of beauty. It's my choice and I choose to get a tattoo whether you like it or not."
          "Typical Hana," Nikki thought, shaking his head. He looked up suddenly as Jake returned to the group. Jake nervously wiped his phone on his jeans before slipping it into his pocket. Hana was practically dancing in her seat to hear his answer. "Well," Jake spoke slowly, not intentionally causing Hana's excitement to grow. "If it's just black and white, he can do it today but we have to be there within the next 20 minutes, so-"
          Hana had already jumped to her feet, dragging Nikki by the wrist. "Let's go!" She called over her shoulder as she ran through the park. Jake hurried to catch up. "Shouldn't I lead?" He asked, huffing. "You don't even know the way!"

         
         
          As they approached a drab grey apartment building on the poor side of town, Nikki looked around in disgust. There were a few broken windows and old, peeling paint revealing multiple colors where layer after layer of cheap paint had been thinly brushed on over the years. Trash was strewn everywhere; it had clearly been there a while, and it didn't seem as though anyone had any intention of picking it up any time soon. "This place looks super shady. It's probably full of junkies and hookers living here. Even my parents' house isn't this bad. Is this even legal?"
          Jake twisted his face in uncertainty. "Getting a tattoo at somebody's house? It's technically not illegal, I think..."
          Hana had removed her white and beige high heels to make it easier to run. Now she gripped Nikki's arm to steady herself as she slipped them back on. "Don't want to step on a heroin needle or a rusty nail." Nikki said, mocking the dilapidated state of the place.
          The three teens walked up the creaky wooden stairs covered in cheap brown carpeting. Jake paused in front of a door, knocking loudly. They waited, and Jake checked the time on his cell phone.
          Finally, they heard the sounds of someone unlocking multiple locks from the inside. A tall, athletic man with stylishly combed hair, a black dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and more tattoos than skin opened the door. "Hey cousin." he said. His voice was mature and cool sounding. Jake smiled nervously.
          "Hey, Todd. Um, this is Hana, the girl who wanted the tattoo. She said it's just something small so hopefully it won't take you too long. Oh, and this is my friend, Nikki." Nikki noticed that Jake had neglected to introduce him as "Hana's boyfriend."
          Jake's cousin nodded and opened the door further to allow them to come inside. They marveled at the interior of the apartment. It was extraordinarily tidy, yet full of all kinds of things. The walls were covered with a wide variety of foreign art and tattoo sketches. Statues of Hindu gods and knick-knacks filled the bookshelves. A table in the corner held all kinds of ink bottles, rubber gloves, plastic wrap and tubing for tattoo guns, as well as several guns themselves. A plush, brown leather sofa sat opposite the tattooing area. "Make yourselves at home. I don't have a lot of time today, so let's get right to it. What is it that you want?"
          Hana quickly whipped out her cell phone. She pulled up a drawing of a delicate, lace winged dragonfly. It was beautiful and skillfully drawn. "I want this in the center of my lower back, if you please." She said, handing Todd her phone. Nodding, he spoke nonchalantly. "Email it to me so I can print it."
          While the two of them worked out the details, Nikki and Jake sat on the couch. Nikki was amazed and curious at the sheer volume of things that had been packed into this apartment. Everything had a place. It was so strikingly different from the inhospitable exterior.
          As the printer hummed, Todd began to prepare the supplies he would need for the tattoo. "You might want to take your shirt off if you don't want to risk getting ink on it." Shamelessly and without hesitation, Hana slipped her stylish white blouse off over her head. Nikki and Jake couldn't help but stare at her petite, perfect figure and large, full breasts cupped by lacey, almost transparent white lingerie. Both of their hearts began to race. Hana thoughtlessly tossed her blouse at Nikki.
          Todd remained completely professional as he brought the printed sketch over to the tattoo table. He had traced it meticulously onto a piece of transfer paper. He instructed Hana to lie on her stomach on a reclining chair next to the table. He pressed the transfer paper dragonfly against the small of her back. Slowly peeling it away, it revealed a beautiful purple outline over her porcelain skin.
          Peering seriously at the small outline, Jake nodded in approval. “It’s going to look great, Hana.” Nikki furrowed his brow, making a puzzled face. “A dragonfly? Why would you get a tattoo of that?”
          Hana flipped her hair matter-of-factly. “It’s a symbol of life and the frailty of humanity. Dragonflies are gorgeous, light creatures. They always look so carefree to me. They don’t know what is in store for them, or that their lives will end at any moment. What do they care about the future? They live for the moment, and that’s all any of us should do. We are all dragonflies.” The two boys sat quietly, pondering the meaning of the tattoo.
          As Todd began to work, they watched the lines come to life. He traced the outline with impressive speed, the ink pooling up on Hana’s milky skin, being wiped away, and pooling up again as the tattoo progressed.   
          Hana winced periodically as the image was carved deep into her body. The dull buzzing of the tattoo gun was the only sound.

VICTIM

            Nikki hurried down the street, taking back alleys and shortcuts across the town to avoid people and make his way toward Casey’s house. He was beginning to shiver, and noticed a sick feeling in his stomach. He was exhausted and dizzy. He stopped to lean against the side of a building in an L-shaped alley, resting in the dark where he would remain unseen.

            He moved his hand to look at the deep gash in his wrist. Cold blood had soaked the washcloth. “Shit…” He sighed heavily. 
He felt a wave of drug-induced numbness overtaking him, and he paused for a moment to succumb to the feeling. He started to doze off.

            He snapped awake and turned his head around to look when a sudden clatter rang through the area. The dull street lights cast long shadows into the alley, and Nikki could make out the shapes of two people, struggling against each other. He quietly leaned forward, holding his injured wrist in his opposite hand and peeked around the corner of the building he had been standing behind.

            A man held a slender woman by the arm. In a hushed voice, he threatened her. Something about money, but Nikki was too far away to fully make out what they were saying. The woman broke free and balled up her fist, quickly swung with all of her might and punched the man hard in the side of the head. She took off running in Nikki’s direction, but her high heels made it difficult to maneuver the cold, rocky pavement.

            The man quickly recovered from the blow and began to chase her. He was much faster and caught her with what seemed like only a few strides. He grabbed her roughly and threw her to the ground. Verbally attacking her as well, he landed several hard punches to the woman’s face. As she tried to shield herself from his fists, sobbing and pleading, the man struggled to quickly unzip his pants. He ripped off the bleeding woman’s panties, tearing the delicate lace with ease. The man leaned onto his victim, thrusting roughly.

            Nikki’s heart sank and he began to panic. He hid around the corner, breathing heavily. He shut his eyes tightly. He could hear the woman screaming. The sound of a few more blows landing reached Nikki’s ears. Looking around quickly, he found a broken piece of concrete and picked it up. The hard rock numbed his already cold fingers almost immediately. Letting the bloody washcloth fall from his wounded wrist, he flew around the corner of the building and leapt on the man, smashing him in the head with his makeshift weapon. The man fell forward and Nikki jerked the woman to her feet. “Run! Go!” he shouted, looking at her attacker, who was already pulling himself to his feet.

            He flew at Nikki in a rage and backhanded him with all of his strength, knocking him off balance. Still drunk and drugged, Nikki easily fell to his knees. The man didn’t let up, kicking him repeatedly with brutal force in the side and stomach. He felt sharp pain clawing at him, and was sure that the man had broken at least a few ribs. Nikki knew that he had to buy the woman some time to escape. Lying weakly on his side, he grabbed the man’s leg with both hands and sunk his teeth deep into his calf. The man cried out in pain and kicked Nikki in the face with his free leg. Already numb from the cold, Nikki felt burning pain from the force of the attack. His head was splitting and his vision blurred.

            The man crouched down, gripping the painful bite mark. A few small dots of blood darkened his pant leg. Seizing the opportunity, Nikki lunged forward with all of his strength and knocked the man back. The disgusting vision of what he had seen clung fresh in his mind. Nikki screamed furiously and began smashing his fists into the man’s face, one punch after another. Pain wracked his fists and injured arm, which had started bleeding again.

            Using one hand to try to block Nikki’s barrage of enraged fist strikes, the man reached his other arm out to feel for anything he could use to defend himself. At first all he felt was the cold ground, but then his fingers touched some large, hard object. It was the piece of broken concrete Nikki had bludgeoned him with when he had been caught off guard.

            The man quickly pulled it into his hand and swung upward, smashing the rock piece against Nikki’s temple. Nikki cried out, his head screaming with pain. His vision darkened for a few seconds, and the man took the opportunity to strike him again. Nikki staggered and dropped to his knees, disoriented and losing consciousness. In a frenzy, the man climbed on top of him, smashing the heavy concrete against Nikki’s head again and again, until his arms began to burn from exhaustion. Nikki tried feebly to grab the man’s wrists, to push him away, but his strength drained and soon his vision began to blacken and his body fell limp. His long hair was matted with blood, and he lay perfectly still on the dirty ground.

            The man was panting and sweating, despite the dropping temperature. He looked down at the motionless body beneath him with a hateful scowl. He leaned in close and screamed in Nikki’s face. “Fucker!” He wiped the blood running from his nose and pulled himself to his feet. He looked down at Nikki, breathing laboredly at his feet. He angrily kicked Nikki once more in the ribs, then turned and stumbled quickly out of the alley. Looking around to make sure no one had seen the assault, he hurried down the street and into the darkness.

DARKNESS

              Nikki gripped the ice cold door handle with his bare hands and slid the key card into the lock. He pushed the door open and entered a dark hotel room. Flipping the lights on, he kicked his shoes off and tossed his old canvas gas mask bag on the chair. He took a drink from the bottle of whiskey in his hand. With a gloomy expression, he stripped off his clothing, leaving a trail of fabric as he walked to the bathroom to start a bath.

               Drinking heavily, as the tub filled, he returned to his bag on the chair. He pulled open the heavy metal snaps and rooted around until he found a plastic bag full of different kinds of pills. He held it up, inspecting its contents with an emotionless face. The bag contained several large white bars, small, oval shaped pills, round yellow pills, big red pills, and green star shaped pills, among others, all mixed together along with various paraphernalia including an empty ink pen, a lighter, a pill cutter and a cardboard packet of razorblades.

               He stared at the razorblades for a moment as if they were some curious item from a long forgotten dream, familiar but not quite recognizable. He used his bony, white fingers and long black nails to select a blade from the pack. He grabbed a few random pills from the bag and swallowed them, chasing them with a long drink from his whiskey bottle.

               Starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, he slowly moved to the bathroom. He set the emptying whiskey bottle and razor blade on the edge of the tub and unsteadily dipped into the hot bath. He sighed heavily. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, taking in the growing blurriness in his mind. An almost pained expression flashed across his face. He took another drink from the bottle. The hot liquor burned his throat. He opened his eyes and turned his wrist upward. Newer scars on top of old, raised scars adorned his forearm and bicep. He ran his fingertips lightly over the dark lines across his milky white skin.

               He took another long drink from the bottle and as he set it down, his eye fell upon the razor blade. He picked it up delicately, casting a fond, almost loving gaze at the sleek metal edge. “Run down the street, not across it… Then they can’t save you…” he thought to himself, tracing an invisible line down the length of his forearm. “Use the hottest water so you can’t feel the pain…” 

               Fighting the dizzying effects of the drugs and alcohol and the growing nausea in his stomach, he shut his eyes with a distressed expression. He plunged his hands deep into the steaming bathwater, and began to press the edge of the razor blade into his wrist. The familiar burn of the sharp steel slicing through his skin brought an almost nostalgic pain. Blood began to seep into the water, becoming quickly discolored. Nikki steadied his trembling hand. He made a move to push harder, sink the blade deeper into his soft flesh, when Dahlia’s despairing voice triggered in his memory.

               “How could you do that? Suicide is the coward’s way out! There is nothing, nothing so agonizing that you can’t survive it. If you die, all that pain and suffering is going to stay with you forever. That’s it. There is never a chance for it to get better. You will hurt for eternity, but if you can live for just one more second, just hold on for one more moment, those seconds will become minutes. The minutes will become hours, the hours turn to days and before you know it, you are surviving…”

               Nikki clenched his teeth as tears began to fall freely. He cried out angrily, flinging the razor blade clattering across the room. The nearly empty whiskey bottle crashed to the floor and shattered, glistening shards of broken glass scattered across the floor. Blinking through tears, he looked at the deep gash he had carved into his wrist. The laceration was about three inches long. Dark red blood seeped down his arm and dripped into the bathwater. Torn by emotion, he screamed. “Fuck!” He punched the hard wall of the bath with all of his strength. Pain wracked his hand.

               He angrily climbed out of the bath, blood and water running down his arm and dripping from his fingers. He grabbed a small washcloth and clamped it tightly around his wrist, struggling to one handedly dress himself. Pressing his injured wrist tightly against his body, he left the hotel, slamming the door behind him.
             The night was dark and chilly. Light snowflakes had begun to fall. Nikki did his best to walk briskly, despite his intoxication. His long black hair clung damply to his clothing and face, with drops of water still trailing off the ends. He wore no coat or gloves, despite the frigid temperature.
              Fighting dizziness, Nikki thought to himself. "I’ve got to get to a hospital. I need drugs, and probably stitches. Shit, I’m already on drugs. They'd probably lock me up for sure. I’ve got to get to someone who can help me… Casey… He’ll at least be able to deck me for being so fucking stupid…”

LOSS

              Nikki sat alone in the emergency room. Hana had already been taken away by a doctor. Nikki stared at the floor in a daze. He blinked through tears; his expression clearly showing fear and sorrow. His mind raced. “What if she’s really hurt?” he thought. “What if our baby is hurt? What if it has to be delivered prematurely and gets really sick?” He began to cry. “Please… Please let our baby be ok…”

               He put his head in his hands. A heavy black cast wrapped around his hand and forearm. It continued up his elbow and ended at his upper arm. His body was weak and rife with fresh bruises and scrapes, though he had been given drugs for pain so he felt none of it. He felt tired. He sniffled and sat upright, wiping away his tears. He let out a quivering sigh.

               A nurse called his name, catching his attention in the otherwise quiet room. Her voice sounded flat and uninterested. “Nicholas? Son, we’ve called your parents to come pick you up but there was no answer. We left a message on the machine.” Nikki’s heart sank. “Where is Hana? The girl I came here with, how is she?” The nurse shook her head. “She’s in the middle of a procedure. I can let you know as soon as she comes out of the anesthesia.” Nikki made a startled face. “Anesthesia…?” He tried to ask the nurse to elaborate, but she had already gone.

               Nikki paced the quiet waiting room for what seemed like forever. The pain medicine he had been administered was taking a toll on him, and he felt dizzy and heavy. Exhausted, he finally sat down in one of the many identical chairs. He leaned his head against the wall and sighed. He fought to stay awake as the drugs slowly weighed his eyelids down.

               “I feel so weird…” he thought. “This medicine is really messing with me.” He sighed again. His head was spinning. He noticed how heavy and dreamy he felt, almost as if he were asleep and awake at the same time. “I hate to admit it, but it’s actually not bad though…” He closed his eyes, letting himself relax. He felt a sort of strange numbness all over. He argued with himself, dully trying to deny that he actually liked the feeling. He eventually gave in and slowly took in the deep calmness that filled his body.

               He opened his eyes sleepily as he realized someone was talking to him. He wasn’t sure if he had drifted off to sleep, or how long he had been sitting there. He had been feeling so peaceful he didn’t notice the nurse approach him. “Do you want to see her?” she asked. “I can take you to her room.” Nikki was confused for a moment. He shook his head, trying to clear the fuzzy feeling that filled it. “Ah, Hana!” He sat upright in the chair. “Please, take me to her.” He stood up quickly and a wave of dizziness and slight nausea came over him. He was a little unsteady on his feet for a moment, he quickly trotted down the hall after the nurse.

               She lead him down a winding corridor, past many doors with large signs indicating what could be going on behind each one. Radiology. X-Ray. CT Scan. She finally brought him to a large elevator with extra wide doors to accommodate wheelchairs and hospital beds. Nikki stepped inside and stared at the distorted reflection of himself, awkwardly staring back at him from the elevator wall. As the elevator jolted into movement, he felt a strong pang of sickness in his stomach. He held the back of his hand against his mouth in case he vomited. He looked away from the dizzying reflection of himself, staring instead at his stylish, overpriced shoes that Hana had given him for his birthday.

               The elevator jerked to a halt and the wide doors opened slowly. The nurse guided Nikki down the hall into a dark, silent room. Nikki peeked his head inside. Hana lie asleep on the bed in the center of the room. Nikki stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him, walking cautiously as if the slightest sound would shatter the oppressive silence. He crept up to Hana’s bedside, looking down at her sleeping figure with pity. Even in sleep, her thin face looked weary and pained. Her makeup was smeared from where she had been crying.

               Nikki quietly pulled a chair over and sat down beside her. He rested his casted hand on the bed and locked his fingers with hers. He stroked her hair gently, brushing stray strands out of her face. He put his head down on the bed and sighed. “This is all my fault.” he thought. “Hana… I’m so sorry…” he whispered, his voice heavy with sadness.

                 He was startled by a sudden noise outside of the room. He heard the shrill voice of Hana's mother in the hall. He froze, listening closely. “Is she alright?” An unfamiliar voice answered. “It must be a doctor.” Nikki thought. “Your daughter is going to be fine. Unfortunately, she had a nasty fall today. The impact caused the fetus to become detached from the uterine wall. We call this ‘placental abruption.’ I am sorry to tell you that in this situation, the fetus did not survive, but your daughter is recovering well and should be awake any time. We’d like to keep her a few nights just to keep an eye on her.”

               Nikki felt like he’d been hit by a truck. “My baby… did not survive?” He was stricken with grief. He shook his head, refusing to believe what he had heard. Tears poured from his dark eyes, and he trembled pathetically as he sobbed. “No… it can’t be…” he cried. He begged no one in particular, pleading for his child’s life. “Please, please, it can’t be true…”

               The sound of his weeping drew attention to his presence, and the door opened forcefully. Hana’s parents stood in the doorway. Nikki looked up at them, tears still running down his pale cheeks. A choking sob escaped his throat. Hana’s father twisted his face in anger to see him sitting there. “What are you doing here?” he asked spitefully. “Get away from her!”

               Nikki sat in the chair, trembling and looked down at the floor. He couldn’t bring any thoughts to the front of his mind. Tears dripped onto the smooth tile. Hana's mother scoffed. “What are you crying for? This is truly a blessing. Do you really think my daughter would have wasted her life being a housewife for some freakshow, minimum wage accident like you? I hate to break it to you, but it would have never worked out.” Nikki barely heard her vicious words.
             Seeing that Nikki was not paying attention, Hana’s father moved forward and jerked him forcefully out of his seat. “Can't you see this is all your fault? Why don’t you get out of here before you cause any more damage? Don't you know you're not wanted? Go on, get!” 

       He shoved him toward the open door. Nikki stumbled to his knees in the hallway. He struggled to find words, but was at a loss. He looked up to see Hana’s father slam the door rudely in his face. Nikki climbed to his feet and angrily smashed his fists against the door. Pain shot through his injured arm, causing him to cry out. He turned around and leaned against the door. He clutched his arm, sobbing.
                  Nikki felt paralyzed. His mind was racing and numb at the same time. Like a zombie, staring at the floor and still halfheartedly gripping his broken arm, he made his way back to the waiting room. He slumped down into a chair, totally lost. He leaned his head against the wall, and hot, silent tears fell from the corners of his narrow eyes. He sighed a heavy, quivering sigh.

               “There you are!” A sharp voice whipped through the hall. Nikki looked up, startled. His heart sank as he saw his stepfather stomping toward him. “Let’s go, get your ass in the car.” Nikki hesitated for a moment, then slowly forced himself onto his feet and started moving reluctantly forward. Ken glared at him with palpable contempt.
           Nikki followed him to the car. Each heavy step took every bit of his willpower. The two sat in silence through the seemingly endless drive home. Nikki could see that Ken's jaw was clenched in anger. He reeked of alcohol. Nikki wondered how anyone in the hospital could have missed the stench. He wondered if they might get lucky and both die in a car crash tonight. He sighed.
                    Looking out the window at the blackness whipping past them, Nikki leaned his head against the cold glass. He knew what awaited him when the car stopped, but all he could think about was Hana.