//Closed Now how did I end up here..?

It was the only thing Bon-hwa could think of as he lay there on the grimy hardness of the pavement that stretched from one end of the alley to the other. If he thought about it really hard, like really hard, he could think all the way back to the way things used to be before he left home. And even if he couldn't pin-point the exact details of every step along this twisted journey, Bon could certainly pick out the highlights in what lead him down this path. Both figuratively and literally, mind you.

Those general instances which pushed him toward leaving home, toward living in a foreign country, surviving on so little, and becoming some sad broken sap lying in an alley. And just when he'd tried to escape what his life had become, coming to Ireland in an effort to run from demons which were apparently attached at the hip, that plan had fallen flat and hard.

"God...," he croaked painfully, his ribs likely bruised which made it hurt to even breathe, "Please, God... I want a fix." He'd been a heroin addict for about two years now, having been surprised to find back then that it was the only he could find that made him feel normal. Or at least made him feel as good and whole as he had before the universe decided to flush him down the toilet. Everything that had happened since the falling out with his parents somehow lead right up to this point. This point being lying in an alley after having the shit beat out of him by a couple of tavern patrons. And really, Bon-hwa had meant no harm, or at least no relative harm. But being stranded in this place, having no money, and being a prostitute...Well, you know how it goes; a person's gotta do what a person's gotta do. A simple, and discreet mind you, proposition had turned into Bonnie's first serious experience as someone's punching bag. Only it was two someones' punching bag. The guy in the tavern had seemed receptive and even went so far as to suggest that they go into the alley behind the establishment.

What Bon hadn't expected though was company...and getting a beating worse than he's ever received while being called a fag and having AIDS wished on him, even though they don't know the half of it. Not that it matters though. When the two men left, all he could think about was the horrible pain and vaguely wondering if something somewhere in him is broken and if it's a real and tangible break or if finally his brain and heart are broken from everything he's been through. And even now, even when the pain has turned into this dull throb throughout his whole body, Bon-hwa doesn't move. He's too busy asking himself 'Now how did I end up here?'

Now why the hell was Riley wandering the alley ways of the village at the late hours of the night? Well, it was not as if Riley had a death wish nor was he a stumbling drunkard on a rampage to find his next drink. No, he was out here in the middle of the night because he had such a shit stain of a nightmare that he could not even wink a few seconds of sleep. The images, burned in his mind, kept him wandering for hours between the back alleyways of the village that held the only sort of entertainment and activities outside the castle walls. Although there were much more entertaining ways to drinking, there was nothing much else to do in that town after the sun had set. Even when passing the few drunken people on the walkways, he managed to steer clear of them on the other side of the street.

No sense having to put a few rounds in their knee-caps if they felt like getting frisky with his wallet.

But overall, he was just using this time to cope with his ever so recovering memories of the past. Why the hell he managed to keep a sane mind as he began to see, in vivid detail, the assailants of that dreadful night he would have no idea. He would prefer to pick up a bottle of vodka and bury it all, but he knew better than that. The best way to deal with these kinds of problems was to face them dead on, but even then that was a nightmare in itself. So much blood. So much chaos. Their screams, tormented his mind like a rat scurrying in a tiny cage. Screaming for help. Crying as their tears only brought blood down their cheeks as their throats were slashed wide open, blood pouring from their wounds and over his face. His rebirth, dipped in crimson, was the faintest memory of his past-

"What the hell..." A crumpled up body laid strewed in front of him in some alleyway in the village. How the hell it get there, and more importantly... was it dead?

"Please, God... I want a fix."

Well, he wasn't dead, that was for sure. But someone fucked this guy up pretty hardcore. Looking around he saw no one nearby, although he seemed to pass a couple of people that seemed to have enjoyed themselves by the way they rubbed their knuckles. But instead of taking his handgun to go find the fuckers who seemed to have double teamed on this bastard, he decided it was best to seek medical attention for the man crippled in the street. Why he seemed to care, he just had no idea. The weak had no place in this world what so ever. But tonite his mind was torn amuck, and any kind of distraction was better than seeing the blood on his sisters torn bodies.

Leaning forward, he would attempt to pick the lad up and toss him over his left shoulder. If allowed, he would pick the man up with relative ease. Carrying the man in an over-the-shoulder manner. It would be painful, initially, but it was the fastest way to get the man back to the castle. Not as if the shitty doctors house here had any way of nursing this guy back to health. If the man was semi-conscious, it would be rather odd for a lithe man such as the one in the street to pick him up like he was a small child.

"You go for my gun or my wallet, I plug you a few new assholes..." He whispered quietly to the man, his side completely exposed. Although he was friendly, he wasn't an idiot. Although with the blood coursing through his veins, he doubt a single bullet would drop him easily.

If allowed to carry him, he would attempt to take him back towards the castle.

The world was starting to fade in and out now, as though reality couldn't make up its mind over whether or not to let Bon-hwa in. It was getting harder to keep hold of consciousness and the broken young man tried to clamor at the cool pavement beneath him, fingernails scraping against the rough stone in an effort to keep himself awake and aware. But when he heard footsteps, Bon's senses snapped to attention. Not acutely, but enough to realize that someone had come close. Was it his assailants again? Was he going to die this time?

Strong hands began to lift him and before he knew it, Bonnie had been hefted up and over the stranger's shoulder. He let out a sharp yelp at the fresh pain that blossomed from his very core and spread through his body like a billion hot needles. The man spoke and said something about a gun and a wallet, though it didn't quite register properly in Bon-hwa's mind. If this guy was after a wallet, good luck to him. Bon's wallet didn't have a cent in it and all this person would find was a passport and a very small plastic baggie containing brown powder.

It took effort to even try to speak and with what little clarity he had left, Bonnie tried to tell him to just take the shit and plead with the guy not to hurt him, but all he could manage were a few groans and a strained 'Please..." Maybe this person should kill him and just put him out of his misery. End the pain. But that didn't happen, at least not while the albino was still conscious. He felt himself being carried, but to where he had no idea. Then consciousness drifted away and his small form went completely slack despite his injuries. His breathing continued though, shallow and slight as it was.

Closed

Continued here