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Kill to Defend... or Die for Nothing
iglagol

September, 1st. The old castle of Odessa, where prisoners had been kept since God knows when precisely, opened at about 5 pm for more than 50 citizens to meet their hero set free. Vyacheslav Gratsiotov, aged nineteen, attacked by drunken scoundrels in the very heart of Odessa 10 days before, had had to defend his girlfriend and himself by hitting one of the drunkards with his mini-knife. Neither police was around nor people enjoying last summer days tried to stop the battle they were observing and even filming with their camcorders. A lad and a girl beaten by two mindless mad and drunk boys and never noticed by anybody. There was no reason to start the battle and there was none to put end to it, until the beaten lad drew his mini-knife into the drunkard's stomach. Then the local police on having failed to be in time and stop the outrage found no better way to hide their uselessness in civil society than accusing the lad, who defended, of murder. Then arrest followed and then accusation of the murder on purpose. 10 days of imprisonment. 10 days of scandal initiated by those who knew and would never be indifferent. The police playing fools instead of real working on the case grew focused in common attention for everybody to see who was working and who was fucking floor instead. And with August dying away and September being born to proceed the vital calendar things worked as they had to from the very start. The castle gate opened giving its way to freedom, to hugs and tears of those who had been longing for this day to come. Tears of joy and tears of memory waken up with the picture seen.

I remember myself aged nineteen when I walked with my female cousin through the heat of July along our sweet and picturesque nook by the Mersey side -- Albert Dock. Our free and easy chatting would last on and on, unless a fat and drunk scoundrel grew and blocked our way forward. Looking like twenty-five, his mind hardly controlled due to being fed up with whisky and heroine. We noticed him only when his question sounded:

"I say, guys, why d'you live like this?"

We were rather perplexed since the situation was beyond any sort of comprehension. The only thing clear for us, we never needed him around.

"Listen up, we don't want any problems, no need to start it, we weren't the first to bother you, were we?" I said. The drunken guy never thought of cutting the show.

"Look, I work, I make real money for living. What do you do in this life? What else but fucking floor?"
 
Something had to be done to stop this dirty bag being loaded on us. However the guy was older and bigger than myself and the bigger he was the less adequate he was to be able to come off it. "While I tear my arse to earn my living, you, guys, keep fucking floor, don't you? Why should a nuisance like you really live?" His fat fingers pressed my throat with might and main. Then I seized his and next we were rolling on the ground of Albert Dock, both running the risk of falling into the dock pond. His fingers were strong enough, so pretty soon I had problems with breathing. It looked like my pressing his throat was absolutely useless. My cousin ran up and shouting "cut it!" tried to drag him away from me. Gosh, you should only know what drugs and alcohol do with a human being! On taking up all these fucking things, it ain't human any more.

The scoundrel left me alone, stood up and punched my cousin on her head. With her nose bleeding she dragged his hair while he thoughtlessly beat her all through. Then he started to tear her clothes. It was all desperate. I could never leave her in a state like this. Fighting myself with the powers unequal was too reckless.

A crowbar was lying on the ground just behind the drunk guy. While he was busy with my poor cousin I ran and seized it. The drunkard was so busy with the victim, that the crow hitting his head was a real surprise for him. While he was turning around slowly, I hit him twice again. Cousin, when left alone, ran to me, trying to get me running. And when I discovered the guy was unable to move quickly, I hit his temple, threw the crow into the pond and both we ran off.

The nearest police station was really pretty close. There we reported on the guy who attacked. Two PCs took us to the place where the collision had been. The guy, who attacked, was lying there breathless, his head messed with the crowbar which saved us. Then we gave all the testimony we could. On having identified the dead body they knew the guy had been wanted by the local police for storing drugs. Later on, in hospital our scarves were treated.

It took me a year and a half to forget about the accident, for a year and a half the guy I had had to kill had been coming to me in my night dreams. It happened so that I left Liverpool pretty soon after this. For almost eleven years spent in Odessa, Ukraine I have never come back to the collision in Albert Dock. However it's obvious I would never remain indifferent to the accident having happened on August, 23rd.