Break The Familiar Scene

Break The Familiar Scene



The night bike ride was peaceful; it’s just what I needed. This became a routine ever since Dan moved in with my mom; which was six years ago when I was eight years old. Dan with his beer belly sticking out, came home drunk again just like every other Friday. I just had to get away; I always have to get away.

I don’t get why my mom has to put up with his shit. I wanted stand up to him so many times, but I just can’t do it I’m weak. Not to mention very scrawny and short. I stopped on a dark side of a building.



When I looked at one direction, it was empty and on the other I saw a man gripping a woman’s arms. I could barely hear what the guy was saying to her; something about “I’m really good”

I don’t want to know what that means. The woman yelled “Let me go!!”

That’s when it happened, it was like a tug on my gut and like a ghost just rewired my brain and said “HELP HER!”

I moved my bike in the direction, and pushed with my feet.

I stood up on my bike and started pedaling as hard as I could and trying to gain as much speed as possible. I rammed my bike into his back before he even realized I was there. As I did; I fell off the bike and onto the sidewalk. My arm smacked against the pavement. I grimaced and hoofed.

The woman fell, along with Mr. Feel good, she stood up and ran away when he was on the concrete ground, grunting and cussing.

I began lifting myself up and I groaned loudly when pain shot up from my wrist. I must’ve fallen right on top of it.

At first he laid just there, and then he growled. He yelled in frustration kicking the air. He slowly stood up and faced me. His eyes revealed rage; a rage that wanted to pound on me and I felt terrified. He growled again in pure anger, I shook and on reflex I put up my hand to protect myself.





I knocked on the door a few times before I stopped; realizing my hand was bloody. The door opened and a teenage boy came out “Chris?” Steve asked looking like he just came out of bed. His black hair pointed everywhere. Steve was a foot taller than me, and his shoulders were well built. Not to be weird but every time I see him I wish I had his physique, his body just for a day and sock Dan in the mouth so hard that he’ll sound Russian when he speaks.

I lifted my bloody hand, and gestured to my probably sprained wrist.

“Did someone hurt you?” Steve asked almost whispering. I shook my head. I walked slowly limping to a step on the stairs and sat down wincing. Steve shut the door behind him and sat down next to me.

The guy on the street was no threat.



‘It wasn’t him’ I keep telling myself. As soon as the man realized I was just a kid, he snarled and scolded at me, turned and walked away.

I was rocking back and forth hugging my knees. A hand landed on my shoulder; startled I jumped.

“Sorry” Steve muttered.

I looked at him and blurted out “I fell off my bike and I rammed it into a dude and for a second...I-I thought”

He stood up “wait slow down...you rammed your bike into a guy?” Steve knelt in front of me. I nodded solemnly “Why and what did he do after that?” ‘I swear Steve was born to be a Social worker.’

“The guy did nothing he just shouted at me, and walked away” my voice sounded shaky.

“And why did you do that in the first place? I mean smashing the bike on him?” His eyebrows creased.

I rubbed my cheeks thinking ‘he must think I’m losing it’. I took a minute straightening things out in my head, when I realized there was that awkward silence I continued “I-I” I took deep breath “He...He was harassing...a woman and I had to do something”

My hands trembled; tears were running down my cheeks. I stared at Steve seeing that flinch that said ‘Oh now I get it’.

“For a second I thought the woman was my mom, and he was-” my voice cracked. I felt like I was choking.

“You thought he was your dad” Steve finished for me, he sighed deeply.

“I just had to do something...this time”

I just wanted to break the familiar scene.





*I'm still working on it*