Robbie

A gentle fog lightly covered a small suburban street; the pitch black of night was only countered by the dim glow from the street lights above. A soft wind filled the air as a dark figure turned the corner, and began his silent trek up the vacant path ahead. His silhouette grew larger as the light unveiled the attributes of his body.

A tall boy, aged 17, his hair short, brown, and untidy, unshaven stubble had grown across his jaw, dried blood covered his right cheek. A swollen eye and cut above his head glinted in the light. His handsome face a mess. A jet black hooded jumper and tight grey jeans ripped and torn completed the picture.

His pace was slow, a limp on his left side. He winced in pain every time his left foot touched the ground.

Had the last hour really happened? A wince in despair emerged from his lips as a jolt of pain shot through him. “No.” He thought. “No it was an accident, just like the other times”. Even the thought of lying about this bought a sick feeling to his stomach.

Abruptly, he stopped. Turned around, and then proceeded to walk back the way he came.

With a quickened pace, he limped back, back to where he came, the local tavern. A dark, terrifying anger in his eyes. The pain felt like nothing now. Sheer adrenaline was what he was fuelled by. The chance to stop the pain in his family, the chance to confront his father.

The door swung heavily as he pushed against it. People had noticed his appearance, and they had met it with shocked looks. He could hear the laughing from which he knew was his father.

“Ahh, Robbie, back for more are ya son?” his father’s voice sang darkly, the intoxication evident in the slurring of his speech.

Robbie’s father emerged from a group of tall men all looking on in hope that a fight would ensure.

His father, a large man, with a head of thinning grey hair, and matching moustache, unbuttoned check shirt and considerable size about him, looked in anger at his son.

“Why are you back here boy?” his father taunted. Uneasiness in the room grew thick as people stopped to watch. “ANSWER ME, BOY” he bellowed, startling some unaware people nearby.

Robbie stood still, watching his father’s face grow inpatient. “I said, answer me.” His voice sickeningly soft.

“Hit ‘im Jack” sang from the group he emerged. “Boy’s got something wrong with him”.

Jack swung at Robbie, who didn’t move, or flinch. A scream echoed from a lady in the room as his clenched fist met Robbie’s face for the third time that night.

Robbie fell to the floor; his face grew hot as blood again covered his face. “Bring him outside, teach him a lesson” were the words he could faintly hear as two large men gripped his arms and marched him outside.

The cold night air whipped across his face as he was thrown to the ground in an alleyway, a siren erupted in the near distance.

“Called the cops did ‘ya boy?” His father crooned. “Send your Daddy to prison huh?”

A foot connected with Robbie’s chest. Followed by another, and another. As he blacked out, he heard the stifled sound of a glass shattering and the sickening words “Jackie boy! Use this”



Robbie’s eyes opened. The bright lights erupted as his focus was regaining. He was in a hospital.

A nurse rushed over to him as he tried to sit up. “No, no” she said sweetly, “you’re in hospital sweetie, your badly hurt, please lay back down”

“What.. What’s wrong with me?”

But the nurse had already rushed away. His eyes grew heavy, he needed to sleep, the gentle cold of the hospital raced across his neck as he fell asleep.



Robbie never recovered from the fatal attack that night. He died later that day in hospital. This was a true story, only the names have been changed. Forever, he will be in my heart.