A Proscriptive Relationship

:A Proscriptive Relationship: 57-3

I began to struggle in Justin’s grasp as the men disappeared from my view, heading towards Shawn and Mr. Heywood. Justin held me tighter, snickering. “I’m not letting you go,” he told me.

I ignored him, twisting as violently as I could. Shawn said something incoherent from behind me, and I heard the first sound of a punch landing in a hand. Then another sound— this time of a punch landing on a chest. I struggled harder, growing frantic. Even if Mr. Heywood was a good fighter, he couldn’t take on eight men at the same time.

“If you’re that desperate to see your hero get beat up, I’ll let you watch,” Justin said, twisting me around again. “Here.”

My eyes landed on Mr. Heywood, who was being held still by four of the men. The other four men were standing in front of him, looking threatening. Shawn was standing to the side, wiping the blood off his face. I watched in horror as one of the men standing in front of Mr. Heywood brought a fist to his face. Before it landed I turned away, unable to watch.

“Do you want to count the punches with me?” Justin inquired. “That’s one…” There was another smack, making me wince again. “Two.”

“So, Chris, I hope you enjoy jail as much as I did,” Shawn commented. “I’m very aware about the fact that you’ll go back to jail if you were caught up in a gang problem.”

My head snapped back to Mr. Heywood just in time to see him get slammed in the face. “Stop it!” I shouted, trying to move towards him. “Mr. Heywood!”

“Are you going to answer me, Chris?” Shawn asked, moving towards Mr. Heywood.

The three men in front of Mr. Heywood moved to the side to let Shawn through. Shawn stopped in front of Mr. Heywood, bringing his head closer to him. He said something I couldn’t hear. Without any warning, Mr. Heywood elbowed two of the men holding him in the face, they both went down, and as they were going down Mr. Heywood smashed them for the second time. Then, before I could blink, he sent his fist straight into Shawn’s jaw, knocking him to the ground. Mr. Heywood then moved forward to attack him again, but all five other men were on him in a flash.

 “Mr. Heywood!” I screamed as he was knocked to the ground. “No!”

While Mr. Heywood was on the ground, the men surrounding him began to kick him violently. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I watched him be beaten. I thrashed violently in Justin’s arms, trying to break free.

“Stop it!” I shrieked again, watching as one of the men aimed a kick to his face. “Please! Stop!”

No one even glanced at me. Justin chuckled. “You may just get to watch him die.”

“Shawn! Shawn! Please!”

Shawn turned to me, still lying on the ground. An amused grin spread across his face. “What? I can’t hear you Holly.”

“Please, stop them!” I screamed at him, my throat already feeling raw. “Please!”

“What?”

“Stop them, Shawn! Please!”

“What? Hurt him more?” Shawn responded, feigning confusion. “If you say so…”

My eyes widened. “No!”

Mr. Heywood let out a groan as someone stomped on his chest. When Mr. Heywood tried to pull the leg off him, another person kicked his arms away. I felt like I was going to be sick.

“Oh, that looks like it hurts,” Justin commented.

Angrily, I brought back my head to smash it in his chest. He must have had his head down, because I felt my head bang against his jaw. This caused him to relax his grip on me, and I was able to twist out of it. When he went to grab me again, I brought my knee up to his crotch. Instead of him falling down like I expected him to, he grabbed my hair, yanking my head back.