The Worst Night of my Life

I grimaced as the dazzling sunlight burst through my half-open eyelids. The world around me staggered and swirled and though I tried to focus, the pounding pain in the back of my head forced me back down. I laid against the damp concrete below me, welcoming its coolness against my bruised cheek. I opened my eyes gradually, shielding out the harsh light of day with my splayed fingers. I staggered to my feet, steadying myself against the cold metal railing.  I rested my head in my hands and tried to clear the fog that had filled my brain. I just couldn’t think. All I could do was rest there until the haze began to clear and I could finally try to figure out where on earth I was.

I’ll tell you something, I’ve woken up in some pretty strange places in my time, but this really took the biscuit. Though I could see the sun shining brightly in amongst the tall buildings, the winter wind was bitterly cold and it whipped through the alley, scattering the cans from the overflowing bin beside me. The sudden crash of the cans hitting the concrete floor in an otherwise silent area made me recoil and did nothing to alleviate the throbbing thud of pain that refused to vacate my head. Taking my first tentative steps down the dank alleyway, hearing nothing but the broken shards of glass crunching beneath my feet, it quickly became clear to me  that the pain in my head was not all I had to contend with. Every inch of my body ached and I had gotten no closer to figuring out how I had gotten there in the first place. My body moved as if it were on auto-pilot and I somehow managed to wander back into the main street, back into civilization.

London was rarely as silent as this so I figured that it must be fairly early in the morning. It then occurred to me that I was in fact wearing a watch and despite the large crack through its glass front, I managed to read that it was only 5.30 in the morning. Registering my dry scratchy throat I immediately headed for the nearest vendor, hoping a hot drink would begin to put me right.

“What’ll you be having?” A round jolly man asked me.

“Coffee please.”

“That’ll be one pound twenty-five, please, mate.”  I reached hopefully into the pocket of my Mac trying to grasp at coins that usually clinked around in there; however, I found myself clutching nothing but air. I sighed and looked up at the man. He looked back at me and, after a long silence, said: “Here, this one’s on me, you look awful, had a bad night?” I thanked him and left without answering his question, partially because I had no clue about what had happened and partially because I had a strong urge to laugh. Bad night? This bad night made all my other bad nights feel as traumatic as sipping cocktails on a tropical beach somewhere.

After pouring the hot liquid down my throat I set off walking and tried desperately to jog my memory back into gear. Slowly, I started to remember tiny flashes of the previous night; a dimly lit smoky room, a small box, a woman in a red dress…  These little flashes were okay but the mammoth task of putting the pieces of the puzzle back together made my brain hurt even more so than it already did. I happened to be walking past a furniture shop when I stopped dead in front of a mirror in the window display. I looked into the mirror. Someone else looked back. His long straggly hair was a mess, the skin around his left eye had turned an interesting shade of purple and green and there was a nasty cut on his right cheek. If he felt as bad as he looked he must have been in rotten shape. I wonder if he felt as rotten as me. I genuinely felt sorry for the guy. I think I’d have given him a free cup of coffee too.

After what felt like hours I ended up back where I had started. Just beyond that alleyway, opposite a shabby corner pub overlooked by a towering block of derelict flats. It seemed almost a relief to get away from the hustle and bustle of Central London, especially in the final few shopping days before Christmas. Round here it was deserted. This was an area of London that tourists stayed well away from, or scurried quickly across, in hope of reaching somewhere where their valuables were likely to return home with them. Me? I loved the place. A dodgy dealing? No one will bat an eye- or so I had foolishly thought.
Standing outside the grimy pub, the memories began to flood back and the mist that plagued my memory lifted. I sat down cautiously on a nearby sodden wooden bench and began to remember.

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It had been an extremely cold night. Snowflakes danced in the ferociousness of the arctic wind that stung my cheeks. I hurried quickly into the bar, shivering as a gust of wind slammed the heavy wooden door shut. A stale cloud of smoke and dust hung in the air, suffocating me. I had forgotten the so-called charms of the place. I glanced quickly around the room that was once so familiar to me. The same old regulars were still hanging on in there, spending both their days and nights drinking, drowning in their own despair, and wishing they’d done something with their lives. Well I wasn’t going to become one of them. I was going to do something with my life. I had already made that decision. I was going to quit and stop all of this nonsense once and for all and start my new life as a good honest person. This was my last job, my very last.

I spotted her instantly, her long blonde hair shimmering against the dull glow of a nearby light. Though her hair glistened, her face was shrouded in darkness. I sauntered over, transfixed by her. She rose to her feet, her scarlet dress framing her slim silhouette. I automatically held out my hand towards her, expecting her to take it. She just looked at me disdainfully, eyeing me up and down.

“You’ll do,” she drawled slowly. Even her voice screamed superiority. She lowered herself back into her chair and gestured for me to sit across from her. The spell she had seemed to empower me with shattered and I whipped around in blind panic.

“Sneaky as you like, you!” I whispered frantically. “Yeah, very inconspicuous! Don’t you realize how important this is? Getting caught now could risk everything!”

“Excuse me?” She said, a smirk playing about her lips.

“You heard! You stick out like a sore thumb! Couldn’t you have at least tried to dress a little more, ahem, conservatively, you really should be more care-” she drew close, paralyzing me. She gazed into my eyes and began to whisper into my ear;

“I am one of the few who realize its true worth, but there are others who desire it also. While it’s with you, watch your back. Keep it secret, keep it safe.” She pushed a small box into my coarse hand, grabbed her coat that was the colour of night and walked briskly towards the door without a mere second glance in my direction.

Hoping no-one had bore witness to our exchange; I pocketed the tiny box quickly. It had been a very long day. Without even thinking I propped myself up at the bar and began to drink as if all the oceans had run dry. Though the world had already begun to swirl I hadn’t had the good fortune to lose myself totally and forget everything just yet. I glanced to my right side at a hooded man who kept himself concealed underneath a cloak. Though I couldn’t see his eyes I knew he was staring at me, probably thinking about what a pathetic excuse for a man I was, it wouldn’t have surprised me in the slightest.

As I descended into an alcohol-induced haze I still kept my eye on the hooded man. He acted just the same as everyone else in the bar did. Just enjoying a quiet drink, or so I had thought. I gazed at him as he whispered to the grungy-looking barman and paid for his drink with a fistful of notes. Idiot! How stupid must you be to flash that sort of money round here! As I pondered on that thought my mind never dwelled on the fact that the barman didn’t give him any change.

What time had passed? Minutes? Hours? I didn’t know and I didn’t particularly care either. The next thing I knew was that the barman told me that there had been a delivery for me and I had to collect it at the back door of the pub and without even waiting to hear my reply he steered me out of the bar. I remember staggering through a dank corridor and out through another door into an icy blast of wind.

I must have been totally plastered. How else could I have fallen for something so thoroughly dim-witted? As I immersed myself in the night air I heard shuffling footsteps and the warmth of someone’s breath on the back of my neck, making my hair stand on end. There was a struggle as I blindly attempted to fend off the dark figure. He overpowered me. I slammed against the wall. Felt the blood trickle down my face. Fell to the ground. Darkness closed in. Silence.

◊

Realization hit me like a tonne of bricks. I leapt up and grabbed desperately at the insides of my pocket, hoping, no, praying for a miracle. The miracle never came. I slumped back onto the bench and rested my head between my hands. It was hopeless. The most precious thing I had ever been entrusted with had gone, stolen as a result of my own stupidity. People wanted it more than anything, people were willing to kill for it and I had lost it, handed it over to our enemy. Without hesitation I began to run. I had made a fatal mistake. There’ll be a sound price on my head after this mess, I can tell you. Well I wasn’t going to make it easy for them. I had to get that ring back, or this Christmas was going to be my last.

A.N. If you have the time, any constructive critisicm would be really appreaciated =)