Thanksgiving Day is a special time of celebration with family.
But if you're Cal Marcius, you may want to rethink the celebration, and maybe rethink the family too.
But if you're Cal Marcius, you may want to rethink the celebration, and maybe rethink the family too.
No Hesitation by Cal Marcius
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I
thought I knew my little brother, but then you never truly know anybody, do
you? Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I’m
out celebrating Harry’s birthday when this guy walks up to me, smashes a bottle
on the corner of the bar and stabs me with it. Just like that. One fluid
motion. No hesitation. No second thoughts.
People
are screaming. Running. Shoving each other out of the way. Nobody wants to be
near me right now. I press my hand against the side of my neck. I can feel the
blood running through my fingers, down my arm.
“Charlie.
Fuck. Charlie. Fuck. Fuck.”
Harry’s
hysterical. Screaming my name over and over again.
I
have to sit down. I feel light-headed. There’s no chair and I slide down
against the bar, on the floor, my back against the wood panelling.
My
vision goes blurry. Harry has a look on his face I’ve never seen before.
“Don’t
you fucking die,” he says. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He’s
up, pushing past people, and out of the bar.
I
pull myself up. The barmen try to talk me out of it. Tell me they’re on their
way – cops, ambulance, the cavalry.
Someone
helps me, walks me outside.
Harry’s
on his knees, in the middle of the road, the guy who stabbed me pinned to the
ground. About a dozen cars have come to a stop, illuminating the scene in front
of them. The guy beneath Harry isn’t moving, not anymore. Harry’s fists are
covered in blood.
Nobody
stops him. They just stand there, phones in their hands, filming.
When
the cops arrive, they draw their guns, telling Harry to get down on the ground.
My little brother looks at me and smiles, just before I pass out.
