Woman

My dreams shatter as I awaken to the eyes of a mad man. My executioner.

"Get up you lying, cheat! The moment that old bloke took me off I knew you were up to something! You're a liar!" Mike breathes into my face.

The familiar closeness runs down my spine and feels like ink settling over my brain.

Mike stands over me. The peace is broken like the window that is in shards across the floor. He grabs my collar and pulls me out of the warm blankets.

I throw his hand off my shirt and jump onto the floor away from the shattered pieces. The cold sweeps right into my skin and his stare freezes my heart.

"What are you talking about Mike?" I say and adjust my shirt.

I cough to easily use a deeper voice.

In the dull light Mike appears flabbergasted. His face contorts into confusion and anger. He looks as though he might scream or explain himself at any moment. As always he can't decide.

I must take control of the conversation.

"Mike, where's Joseph?" I say cautiously approaching him like I would approach a dear that I just shot.

"He.." He looks out the window and then at the broken shards of glass. I glance at his hand, covered in blood from his knuckles to his wrist.

I grab his wrist and catapult it in front of his eyes.

"Mike, what is this? You're killing yourself mate , all for nothing. You didn't even tell me, where is Joseph?" I breath roughly and I spit on the ground at the glass.

Oh no. Men don't spit inside. They do that outside, don't they?

Mike stares at the broken glass and he is too ashamed to look at me. Freezing rain mixed with the blood and glass and spit. I remember the night I ran away.

I tighten my grip on his wrist.

"Where is Joseph." I grunt.

"Mate! Let go. He's fine. He's sleeping with his woman, they're fine. I left when they were asleep." Mike's robust stature is dawdling in the moonlight, he is shaking from cold, and from a whiff of the air, it is more than that.

He's drunk.

"Are you okay brother? How much did you drink?" I cringe at the words. How did you find me!

Joseph is not a drinker, he avoids it because he doesn't want to forget. He says a man is made strong by his struggles. But still, he must've got Mike into the town Tavern to slow him down. Unfortunately, it sped things up. It made him more insane. Was that even possible?

I roll my eyes in a Theodore way.

Mike glances up at me from his hunched position. In our time together I grew taller and matched his height. Now I had a good three inches over him. This gives me a typical teenager look. Especially with my broad shoulders maximized with the cloth I wrap around my arms I give the impression of a hard working young man. The impression of strength.

He squints in the natural dimness.

"I want a match." He growls.

I chuckle and raise my eyebrow in a Theodore way. Theodore was my prime mold for the impressions I give as Michael. He was pretty tough and rough, his father was a blacksmith and he was the youngest of three boys so he made do with a lot of bullying. Ever still, he had a heart and when I struck a friendship with him through a few pranks and good laughs he taught me a lot about the town. About being manly.

"Brother, you know there's matches on the hearth. Why travel all the way here?" I lean against the wall casually to mock him.

"You're running from fights! A match! Fight me!"

"Wh-what?"

Mike gives a smug and almost malicious grin. His yellow teeth sheen in the dim light as he glances out the window in the general direction of town.

"Joseph can't protect you from those demon men who took my wife. You all promised! On your honour mate! You promised to get her back!" Mike advances towards me.

"Listen Mike, we'll match tomorrow." The glean in his eye expands and he looks close to crying.

He drops his fat hairy arms around my shoulders and shouts out. His weight has me leaning hard into the wall.

"We fight at dawn!"

I pat him on the back and push him off of me.

"Alright, alright. Dawn it is. Now go home and get some sleep you drunken troll." I huff and push Mike towards the window. Motioning for him to get out. He looks at me and I stare back unimpressed.

"You already made your exit." I say with a smirk.

He begrudgingly climbs out of the window and I watch him fumble to where he tied his horse. His prints scar the fresh snow. As he gallops into the distance I fall into a heap.

I clench my fists into my elbows.