Our Pasts Will Be Our Secrets

January 2005.

My ribs hurt so fuckin' bad right now, it's difficult to breathe. But I'm no wussy, I can't let on to anyone that my last fight got to be so bad. It was humiliating enough losing it, and in turn losing any money I would get for the next few days, weeks maybe. Although, for it to be weeks I'd actually have to face the fact that my ribs might be broken, and actually 'fess up. Like hell am I doing that. Ain't no difference in re-breaking already broken ribs, is it?

Like I said, I ain't a fuckin' wussy.

September 2005.

It sickens me, watching all these stuck up snob kids going on about with their perfect lives and their perfect, perfect, perfect families. They've probably done fucked up shit, and yet they still have families who love and care for them. And what the hell did I do? Jack all! It really does sicken me, and then they have the nerve to complain and whine about their perfect families embarrassing them or punishing them by taking away their oh-so expensive phones or electrical appliances.

The weather's being a bitch this month.

March 2006.

Fuck, I almost died. I ain't a wuss or anything like that, but fuck it, that was scary. It was a week ago, right. Never thought I'd live to see today.

The fight was dead vicious, I didn't know this guy but it was like he had some sort of a grudge against me; a fucking huge one. It was tense, and I was so close to tapping out, being chicken and actually for once thinking about my body's well being rather then the food well being that the money would help. I didn't though, so maybe it's my fault after all.

He won the fight, and I lost. I didn't do anything to reject the lose, I was far too exhausted and beaten to even mentally scowl myself for losing. But when the whistle was blown, signalling the end of the fight, he just continued on.

I was defenceless and weak, he was massive against me. He just kept punching at me. My head was banging and I felt dizzy; my eyesight was almost disappeared. The motion of needing to puke kept coming up to me.

Even after someone pulled him off of me I still felt like I was going to. It just felt like I was going to fail. Just like everything was slowly breaking down before my eyes, however the pain was just intensifying.

The back alley is where I was brought out, the fresh air hitting me hard and in turn making my head bang even harder and furiously. The crack of darkness was nearing me ever so slightly, and I just felt myself fading out. The only thing I was given was a glass of water, which was thrown over me, and two tablets that were shoved down my throat whilst I was still in my almost unconscious state. I didn't have any money for health care.

I woke up in the alley but the tablets probably saved my life.

Present Day

Banging on the door was what woke me up. Banging on the door at the early time of half ten in the morning did not please me. And why the hell they had to bang on the door was a mystery to me – the door was broken beyond repair so they could easily just let themselves in and leave me sleeping whilst they quietly murder me.

But no, obviously I don't deserve something as nice as that.

As the banging continued on, I gave up and crawled off of my mattress which was my bed. It was quite comfortable despite what it looked like. Wrapping an arm around my torso, a fight earlier on this week gave me some fractured ribs and they killed. As I made my way from the room I was in, the banging got louder.

“I'm coming, bloody tosser,” I mumbled before reaching the door and yanking it open. A man was just standing there, a package in his hand. Wordlessly, he shoved the package towards me – yeah thanks for minding my ribs arsehole – before going back down the ruined hallways of the flats I was living in. “Oi, I think you have the wrong person!”

Ignorant person, just ignored me and carried on walking. I was so tempted to shout something down after him, but I stopped myself. Instead, I just turned around, pushed the door closed before going into my room again and sitting on the mattress. Ripping open the package, I just stared at the DVD sleeve.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I groaned before looking at the telly that was facing me. It was so run down that I didn't think that this would be able to play in it. But however, I got up and tried it, no harm in trying, right?

Sitting back on the mattress, I watched as the screen lit up, showing a man's face. Great, looks like a crappy thing.

“Hello. I'm Fredrick Mason. You, Chase Jones, have been selected to come to a newly discovered island and stay at our hotel for one week by yourself. We really would be honoured to serve you and cater to your needs. On this disc you will find a printable brochure and information to contact us if you would like to come. Thank you.”

I couldn't help how my eyebrows raised. This must be a joke, right? A free holiday? But, it doesn't seem like a joke. And it's free.....

Since when was I one to turn down something free?