PART ONE

Some nights just make you feel like puking, and I don’t mean the way you feel after you’ve lost count of how many beers you’ve sculled on a bet. I mean in that way that makes you feel sick even when you’re sober. You’re not even sure it was real, not even sure if it was all just a real bad dream, and what makes you sick is the thought that maybe, maybe it actually happened. Last night was one of those nights.

It was bloody hot (and I know right away that if it was a dream it must’ve been a nightmare simply because I hate bloody hot nights) the air was still and my sweat-soaked shirt stuck to my back and made it itch like all hell. Joe was with his mates and making me tag along, forever the annoying little brother that needed constant supervision. I hate that he treats me like that. I’m sixteen for Christ’s sake; I can look after myself just fine.

So, we were walking down Bartley Street, it’s one of those places, you know? The sort of place smart people avoid (that’s right, my brother and his friends do not come under that category.) One of my brother’s friends, I forget his name, he’s a real nut job he is. A few screws loose, more than a few screws loose, in fact, I seriously doubt if he had any screws to begin with. Well, this guy, he noticed a brawl up ahead, and when you see a brawl on Bartley Street the last thing you want to do is get involved, but he had this look in his eye like he was just itching for a fight and he’d found one laid right out just for him and he was grinning like Christmas had come early or something.

After that point it all just happened so fast, a slow hot night exploding in the blink of an eye, and before I know it this guy’s jumped in and my brother and his mates have gone after him, to try and pull him back, only he had a knife. A bloody knife for Christ’s sake! There was so much noise; yelling, horrible crunching noises as fists connected with flesh, and then sirens. And everyone who could ran away as if hell itself were on their heels. Joe was pulling on my shirt, pulling and yelling in my ear and the only thought that was going through my head at that moment was that he was leaving red stains on my favourite shirt.

So, you can yell at me all you like, Officer, go ahead, tell me about all the evidence that convicts me and my brother. About the DNA and the blood and all that crime show shit, but know this: it doesn’t change the fact that I have no idea what happened that night. You’re right about one thing though, it is my own fault, ‘cause if I’d run when Joe’d bloody told me to instead of worrying about my stupid shirt, we wouldn’t even be here.

PART TWO

Knock knock!

“Hello?”

Knock knock!

“Is anybody there?”

KNOCK KNOCK!

“All right! All right! Calm down! I’m – bloody hell! Who put that there? Jesus Christ, stop leaving shit in the hallway… okay okay, I’m here, what do you want? – Oh, hello Officer.”

“Good morning, ma’am, I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time?”

“Why? Is my Billy getting up to trouble again? Bloody hell, this is the last straw, I swear I’m going to kick him out this time. See how he likes it when his mum isn’t doing every little thing for him. A policeman at my door! He’s gone too far, that bloody kid – “

“Actually, ma’am, it’s about the brawl that occurred in this street.”

“Brawl? You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that. So many bloody brawls happen in this street. Every other night there’s at least one group of pin-heads that think it’ll be a right laugh to bash each others’ heads in. I’ll never understand that. You know, I’ve wanted to move for years, but my husband would always say no. It’s a bad neighbourhood, I’d say to him, but he grew up here see? He’s known this place since he was a kid, and he’s never been one for change. A right bloody idiot if you ask me. Has Billy been getting into fights? I swear that boy’s a menace, next time I see him I’ll –“

“This isn’t about your son, ma’am. There was a brawl in this street at approximately 8.30PM last night. A man was sent to hospital with serious knife wounds. We’re interviewing any witnesses we can find, I was wondering if you’d answer a few questions?”

“Well, go right ahead Officer; I’ll tell you everything I can.”

“...I don’t doubt that…”

“What? Did you say something? You’ll have to speak up I’m afraid, I’m slightly deaf in one ear. Well, I mean, I’ve never been diagnosed, but some things you can just tell, you know? When you can’t hear the telly with the volume on thirty then I reckon that’s a pretty good indicator. No need to spend all your money on some arrogant, over-payed doctor to tell you something you already know, you know?”

“Ma’m, did you witness the fight that occurred last night?”

“I did at that. Making a bloody racket they were –“

“Can you tell me what happened? What did you see?”

“Well, there was this group of blokes, drunk no doubt, they got into an argument and, when one bloke said something I’d rather not repeat about the other bloke’s mum, things came to blows. I swear, if someone ever made a comment like that about me, I’d – “

“What happened after that?”

“Well, this group of kids was walking by, saw the fight and joined in. One of them was waving a knife around like he was on bloody Iron Chef or something. Teenagers these days, you know? They’re all a bunch of bloody juvenile delinquents. You should lock all of them up, I say, teach them a lesson, don’t you think?”

“Ma’m, the boy with the knife, was he one of the boys in these photos?”

“Well, now, I can’t really say for sure. I mean, it was awfully dark, should get some more street lamps along here. Or maybe flood-lights? Yeah, I reckon that’d do the trick –“

“Ma’m, could you please stay on topic? This is a serious investigation.”

“Well! Who’s all high and mighty? You cops are all the same if you ask me; think you’re better than everyone else just because you’ve got a stupid little badge. If you’re going to be rude, then you can find another witness! Mrs. Scott down about three houses down has about fifty cats, and I wouldn’t talk to her unless I was absolutely forced to. I hope you have to use her as a witness! I hope your silly investigation never gets solved! You don’t care about the people, you only care about yourself!”

SLAM!

“Well, that went well…”

AN: Lame title is lame :/ Ah well, I didn't origionally have a title and this was all I could think of... Anyway, this was written for a school assignment (as most of my stuff is)(I am so laaazy), we had to write about the same event from two different perspectives in two different ways (i.e. I did a ... um, whatever the first part is classified as, and a dialogue. thing. I don't even know.) So yeah.

Thanks for reading! Any and all feedback is appreciated!