inspired by The Karate Kid

"She's a maniac, maniac on the floor."

I sang to myself on my way home from school, finally saying goodbye to the rest of my buddies as we part ways. On my mind was the French test that I had tomorrow and how leaving it till the night before probably wasn't the best plan but I knew what I signed up for when I went to take that "break" from it last week. I never came back, the news is very interesting you know!

"And she's dancing like she's never danced before."

Around corners and bends, I went, so quickly that i got a little fuzzy. I knew I couldn't waste any time with that test so instead of heel-toe I ran foot-foot. I feet pounded against the ground so hard I felt it in my hair as it bounced without a trace of wind in the air. 

"Maniac."

I was close to home but far away enough that I could think about something else before school again. I thought about the chocolate in the cupboard that I somehow managed to save from yesterday, that automatically made my steps a little faster. 

I whistled near the ending of the song, trailing off once my gaze picked up from the ground. My whistle shattered to the ground once yells were heard. We lived in a strange part of town so it wasn't foreign to me but my family always told me to stay away. 

Somehow though, for some strange reason these yells and screams they sounded wrong. Something really wrong was happening and I knew no one else would do something about it. 

"Yeah get 'im!"

Like a video game character, I leapt over loose crates in the road, avoiding casual walkers and finally, I came across the crime scene. IN the alley I could see mops of neatly styled blonde hair being tossed about, blood splatters sprinkling the brick walls and a dark-haired kid in the centre of it all taking about eight blows per 5 seconds. 

"Kick the shit outta him, Johnny!"

I didn't even need to look, my blood boiled. The smoke, blood and pollution cleared to show my brother, clutching the limp kid by his battered shirt and punching the blood out of his entire system. There wasn't a single patch of skin on that boy's face that remained unbeaten. 

Johnny always told me to stay out of his business, that I was too young and naive to understand and I usually did as I was told. But, in this scenario, the boy looked so small so weak compared to the large structure of my brother and all his friends. He didn't even stand a chance. 

I rush towards them, ripping my brother away from the boy, clawing once the other guys tried taking me away. They thought they could reverse it but I'd already seen enough. 

"You asshole, leave him alone!" I yelled at my brother who towered over me but I wasn't afraid. 

He dropped the kid harshly to the ground and his body gave out one more noise before completely giving out on the ground. The rest of them circled around us all like the gang they truly were and although I remained strong on the outside, on the inside i trembled like I was a little girl again afraid of the dark. 

"I thought i told you to stay out of my business," he growled at me, i knew he didn't want to but he did anyway upset that I had to see this deep down. 

Tears roll down my cheeks without me even thinking about it. I couldn't even look at him straight, none of them. 

"I can't even look at you right now. You're all cowards, picking on this kid, knowing he couldn't fight back even if he tried! Leave him alone, he's done nothing to you," I cried, speaking to all of them since I couldn't look at the blood trickling down Johnny's chin knowing where it came from. 

The pile of clothes that heaved on the ground remained still for an alarming amount of time, I wanted this family feud to be over so I could check on him not so we could avoid the issue at hand. 

"You don't know shit Y/N and I suggest you stay that way so nobody gets hurt."

I look between them, the tall muscular kid in front of me and the young man lying on the ground crying for help without saying a word. I was disgusted. That was somebody's son by there and this was somebody's brother beating the shit outta him.

"I hate you, don't even bother coming home. Nobody will want you there after mom and dad find out."

"You wouldn't-" he begins towards me but I push him away with just the palm of my hand and feisty words that i truly meant despite out shared blood. 

"I guess you should've thought of that beforehand. Now get outta here, all of you," I glared at each young face, too young to have that much blood on their shirts. 

What was I going to do? Who could I tell? 

Johnny beckons them away, mentally spitting at the pile of blood on the ground and turning the corner looking at me as if I was next. I gave them the same look back. 

I rush over to the boy, losing all my facade and trying to get a good look at him. 

"Hey uh kid, I'm Y/N I'm gonna help you alright? I need you to try and stay awake for me."

But it was no use, he was already long gone. 

---

Mom and Dad came home and I couldn't bear the look on their face when I had to explain why there was a half-dead boy on our couch. 

They were furious, glad that I told him to stay away and proud that I intervened although there were warnings that I could've gotten hurt. They gave me these warnings with a faint voice, noticing the rattles of breathing behind me that could've been non-existent if I didn't step in. 

He was wearing one of my loosest shirts with Miami beach printed over it, a dash of bruising just spilling over the neckline and onto his forearms. When I took off his shirt it wasn't because he was bare that I couldn't look but because he was covered in so many bruises he'd be unrecognisable. 

I tried asking his name so I could at least call his mom but he was new in town and didn't even have the energy to wake up nevermind talk. 

Eventually, things settled in the house and with every trace of blood cleaned up, an hour or two later he woke up. I sat cross-legged on the couch opposite, giggling at cartoons but giggling with a cold sweat. Every few seconds I'd look over to check on him, feeling his temperature, drying his sweat and one time I looked over and his eyes were open. 

I rushed over as he tried to sit up. 

"Hey, hey," I lowered him back down through is groans, eyes poured with so much confusion I thought I'd have to take him in for amnesia. 

He looked at the couch, the shirt, the lampshade, the tv noticing how it was all so different. I saved him from talking, knowing it was always easier to listen but not to understand. 

"I'm Y/N, uh you're in my house. You've been asleep for about 2 hours now, you took a pretty hard blow to the head and some other cuts and bruises. I'm no medic but I don't think you've broken or fractured anything. No infection," I grow nervous, removing my hand that was still on his rising chest. 

He smiles a little bit with closed eyes, looking like a sweet deer caught in headlights whenever he opened them. Those big brown eyes could make even the evilest look innocent. 

"I know you're new in town so I couldn't call your mom but my mom knew yours from the office so she let her know. She sounded very upset but grateful. If you know her number I could call her for you cause it's a lot later now so she might be worried, just in case you wanted to..."

I began to sit up and I help him, adjusting the pillow behind him at each angle just in case he slumped down any second. The flannel that balanced on his head was now clutched in his hand and he scanned his arms. He didn't say a word. 

"I don't know what to say really. Thank you I guess I should start with, you really didn't have to. Also sorry, sorry you had to see that especially with your brother," the genuine upset in his voice made my heart melt and I placed my hand on top of his that was tracing his knee. 

I squeeze his hand with a smile. 

"Brother or not you were hurt. I couldn't leave you there like that. I was really worried," I say quiet, feeling too much attachment for this guy considering I only knew him for seconds and 2 hours while he was asleep. 

"Sorry it's weird you're in my house and stuff, I didn't mean to embarrass you," I say, cheeks going red ironically as I talk about his embarrassment. 

He faces me slowly, he's slow but he gets there eventually. He seemed a lot livelier now than ever before.

"Y/N you're stupid you know that! No one would ever have done what you did for me ever, you have an amazing heart. Keep it like that. I'm not embarrassed that I'm here, I'm embarrassed that I had to meet such a pretty girl while I was knocked out," we chuckled together. 

"You should stay the night...for recovery purposes!"

And, he did. He called his mom, told her he was alright and it was just a casual mix up and we talked all night. His name is Daniel and we fell asleep together on the couch together, blanket over us by morning and a lot less bruising on his eye.