The First Cut Is The Deepest

Last Tuesday I played football at the annual work’s football tournament. Now having shimmied, dazzled and fooled my way into the opposing team’s area one of my team mates slid a neat through ball into my path as I galloped (waddled) towards it. Now the strength of the pass was a little stronger than I had originally thought and was heading towards the oncoming goalie. Of course being one of those over competitive idiots (both my greatest strength and weakness) I chased after the ball enticing an imminent collision. I managed to beat the keeper to the ball but by doing so outstretched my leg inviting the right boot of his to crash right onto my shin. I didn’t receive a penalty, I didn’t receive sympathy. I did receive a sharp jolt of pain on my shin.

On first inspection it seemed that I’d grazed the skin leaving a trickle of blood. My blood looked a lot darker in colour the last time I saw it but thought nothing more. I washed it off and considered sticking a plaster on but as I didn’t have one on me I carried on my normal day. It wasn’t until mid afternoon that someone first mentioned I was leaking blood. I looked astonished to see a little bread crumb trail of red droplets along the path. On further inspection my right trouser leg was now a dark crimson colour. I bolted to the Occupational Health department. The old lady who I presumed was a nurse took me into a little room and pulled up my trouser leg. It was then I saw it, the hole. A puddle of my own claret juice spurting out blood like it was the fountain of youth. It reminded me of the scene from Requiem for a Dream where Jared Leto shows one of the Wayne brothers his increasingly infected arm. The image of the black blood oozing from his vain still makes me shake now. Having this thought running through my head made me shout. “Arghhh, that’s rank.” The old lady announced that if it was any deeper I would need stitches but luckily it’s near the bone. “Is that the bone there?” I thought, looking hard at the white object protruding through the sea of red like a lighthouse over the harbour. She patched me up using steri-strips, magic cream and a large plaster/bandage telling me that I need to put ice on it when I got back to avoid it swelling and subsequently increasing the chances of me getting a blood clot.

So for the last week I’ve been placing, frozen peas, corn on the cobs, green beans, Quorn style beef slices and various other things I could find that was frozen on my shin. It’s worked though there isn’t much swelling, it’s just gone a bit yellow. Now I can’t tell if this is just bruising or something is seriously wrong. Either way I don’t plan to take the risk so have made an appointment with a doctor. By this I mean I’ve got to ring them tomorrow at 8:30 on the off chance that there’s a cancellation. Nice.



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Charles couldn’t help but feel for this boy. It confused him why he would start to feel like this, a sort of sorrow, it was something he wasn’t used to feeling and it was starting to make him uncomfortable. He still wanted to do the job, his own life plans were dependant on him robbing the garage and it was important that everything works out well. Yet there is something that makes Charles want to know more about Yannish, what he likes, what he does, why he doesn’t flip out when things don’t go well for him like the woman shutting down his smoking oasis.



He finally picks himself up and dusts off the leaves he managed to collect whilst crouching. He walks back out to the back of the garage and peers into the car and notices a pink steering wheel cover. The car surely is Tammy’s and not Yannish’s, there’s a child’s seat in the back which suggests that she may have children. Turning away from the car he goes the other way and sees the car wash round the corner. He runs his fingers along its concrete pillars struggling to get away from his thoughts. He didn’t even know this person and yet he was intrigued by him. As he comes round to the front of the garage he turns back and notices another man made trail this time it leads upwards and into the bushes towards the wood it seems. At the front he can see Yannish stacking shelves with tins and Tammy at the till staring at the boxes of contraception above her. Charles looks around and sees no cars on the fore court and so pulls out his phone and turns on its camera function. He zooms in on Tammy and takes a photo of her. The flash illuminates but no one in the garage notices. He then points it at Yannish and clicks, the photo comes out crisp.

He strolls back to his car and drives it opposite the garage so that it’s out of sight but he’s still able to see who comes in and out of the door way. Now he just waits for Yannish to finish his shift so he can follow him to his rendezvous with Karen. Charles isn’t interested about the £700 pounds that’s going to be exchanged, no, her wants to see more of Yannish and how he thinks, how he acts. Even though this is supposed to be research work for a job he wants to learn more.

Charles waits outside Yannish’s flat. He followed him back and decided to rest there in the car. He told himself it was because he didn’t want another argument with Marla. He looks up at the rear-view mirror and feels the stubble that’s grown over his face. There’s a purple tint scattered under his eyes where that area has puffed up, part due to lack of sleep and part due to the sadness that had invaded him recently. The pity he felt for himself and the way his life was turning out had turned into sadness about the whole situation he was in. He felt sad that events and circumstances had formulated his life into one of empty crime. Yet the sadness was slowly starting to ebb away and turn into hatred. The flickers were all ready appearing and it he didn’t like it yet he knew inside that he truly hated himself now. But what was he going to do about it? He shakes his head and stops looking at the mirror, he didn’t want to start thinking like this, not yet it was too early for him and for the day for the hatred to bloom.

At nine thirty two he sees Yannish leave his flat, carefully shutting the door and starting to make his way up the road. Charles lets him walk past then he gets out of his car. He watches him walk along the houses and crosses the road. He starts to pursue, keeping a distance until he can work out where he is going. Yannish turns to walk through an alley way and then enters the park. In pursuit Charles walks through the alley way and sees the park in which a Yannish has entered. In the middle of the green oasis is a cluster of benches and sitting at the end one is a young female lady. He can’t see her features as he is too far away but he can see her forlorn figure, her head facing downwards. “That must be Karen” he thinks to himself as he increases the pace. He enters the park to see Yannish approaching her. There’s no way he can hear their conversation without them at least noticing him there which he wants to avoid. All he can do is head towards the trees to get a better view. He knew that this would be the case. There was not much information to get if you can’t hear people speak but he didn’t care he wanted to see. He walks behind a tree and looks out, if they look over he’ll pull out his mobile phone and pretend he’s texting someone to indicate he’s not interested in their business.

Yannish walks past him looking bereft. Karen notices him and stands up immediately, her captivating blue eyes look upon Yannish in utter sorrow, she puts her hand across her face shaking her head. Yannish stops walking towards her, he stands still, looking straight at her. There’s no anger upon his face, just a blank expression, apart from his bottom being sucked in from his mouth. It’s the look that makes Karen stream with tears now, she runs to him but before she gets to him he’s opened his hand out. The business like manor startles her run and she slows down as she looks into her bag. She rummages around until she reaches Yannish then she pulls out a roll of notes and lays it on his palm. Yannish doesn’t even look at it. He retracts his hand with the money and shoves it in his pocket, his eyes only on Karen. They meet each other’s gaze and then Karen throws herself around him and he returns the embrace. They hold each other tightly but with no movement until Yannish leans into Karen and whispers in to her ear. He breaks the hug and pulls away. Karen starts to shake and scream.

“Please don’t do this.”

Yannish turns around.

“I thought we were going to talk.”

He starts to walk away.

“Please don’t leave.”

Charles looks at Yannish as he carries on walking. He can see the tears falling from his eyes, his bottom lip no longer sucked in but being used instead to help control his breathing as he leaves the park crying. Charles returns to Karen who is still standing at the same spot. He wishes he knew exactly what he said to her. It was obvious he was confirming the break up but he wanted to hear the words. He moves away from the trees and walks past Karen, she’s in too much a state to care about his presence. He feels sorry for her but he’s shocked at the way Yannish handled it. He didn’t lunge at her, shout at her, he kept his dignity. He liked this girl and even though he asked for the money their embrace was genuine. Heading back towards the car he thinks what he would have done. For sure he would have grabbed her and threw her to the floor then snatched her bag got the money and walked away. Why can’t he do it like the young man? He closes his eyes and tries to put himself in Yannish’s place doing all the things Yannish did with Karen, but he just can’t imagine himself hugging someone that had stolen from him. The images of anger start to take over so he opens his eyes and kicks the tyre in frustration. He gets in and drives off.


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Still clutching his mobile phone in his hand Yannish opens his front door. There’s no sign of Tommy again. He feels a lot lighter from crying, he can’t remember the last time he did it. He doesn’t dwell on it too much, he’s still troubled with what has happened. Not sure of what to do first he reverts back to his default routine and heads to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He checks there’s water in the kettle, turns it on and fingers trough the cupboard passing Tommy’s box of green tea until he manages to find the more common kind, throws it in an empty cup and waits. He wants to act, he wants to catch this stranger that robbed the garage but there’s no way how. Even if he did know how there were a few things he’d have to do first like see how Clarence was, tell Tommy and Keith about what happened. He wants to tell Karen but he stifles the desire. Telling her would be the first steps to closing the ordeal, her powers of emotional healing would help him through. He doesn’t want that yet. A bang on the door breaks the discussion going on in his mind and he opens it to see a bleary eyed Keith standing there. Still in the same clothes from the last time he saw him in the pub last. Last night seems a long time ago to him now.

“Hey, how’s it going? Thought I’d pop by on my way home let you know what you missed out on.”

Yannish turns away from the door and heads to the kitchen, Keith doesn’t need an invitation and quickly scurries behind him in a boisterous mood for such an early time in the morning.

“You missed a great night, I can’t believe you missed your final exam night out. Girls were putting out big time, just letting it all out. Look at me I got lucky I just left her house about twenty minutes ago.”

The thought that Keith may have got together with Karen thrusts into his mind submerging everything about the robbery and police interview. He knows he has no over her but knows Keith wouldn’t miss an opportunity to feel her body if invited. A coldness runs through him as he prepares to find out head on.

“Was it with Karen?”

Keith looks at him in silence for a moment. His expression isn’t one of anxiety or tension as if to be silent was to quickly think of an excuse or build up courage to tell him. No, it was a look of enlightenment. He’d picked up from the tone and the pace of the question the trepidation Yannish was feeling and therefore understood why he was asking.

“No, you fool I couldn’t get with her if I tried. And believe me I tried last night and even when she’s drunk she doesn’t want to know. No, I got with Tasha, we went back to her house as her parents are away on holiday and well, lets just say I’m exhausted.”

Yannish feels the cold evaporating by the heat of his satisfaction. The relief makes his head wobble a bit as he thinks just for a moment everything is ok.

“You alright man?” Asks Keith looking at him concerned.

“The garage was held up last night.”

The kettle clicks.

“What?”

“It got robbed Keith, it was messed up.” He turns to the kettle.

“Screw the brew tell me what happened. I mean are you alright? I mean…”

“This guy came in, he seemed odd and then the next thing I know he’s pulled a clown mask over his face and is pointing a gun at me and Clarence.”

“Fuck.” Is Keith’s reaction.

“He forced us out back and took the money from the safe then ran away. I tried to follow him but I lost him in the woods and I think he knocked me out.”

“Do the police know? I mean this is some serious crime, especially for round here. I know of off licences being robbed but garages have CCTV footage, there’s alarms. I mean he’s gonna get caught?”

A silence grows between them as Keith expecting Yannish to answer his question stays quiet. He turns back to the kettle again and pours it into his cup. He clasps the cup tightly and his hand begins to shake, then his arm until his whole body starts to look like it’s rippling. And with a lash of venom he throws the cup against the wall passing Keith by as it cracks in pieces on impact.

“I want to get to him before the police do. He took things away from me, things I didn’t realise are so important to a person until they’re wrenched from you. He took away the feeling of safety, he took away my control. I need to find him, see him. Yeah I want to mess him up but I also want to ask him why.”

Keith looks on stunned, first by the near miss of the cup of boiling water but even more so by the reaction of Yannish. An even tempered young man was scowling in anger, almost revelling in it. There was passion in his words but all were menacing. He felt a bit scared yet he knew Yannish was in trouble here.

“Mate, mate, look you need to get some rest. You need to relax. You’ve been through a hell of a lot. You’re mind must be trying hard to work it out and the only way it can do that is to rest. When you wake up then I think you need to speak to someone about this, someone that will understand and be able to advise you. And if you still feel the same about finding this person then I’ll help you but you’ve got to get some rest.”

Yannish bore his eyes down at Keith, his breathing heavy until Keith finished his sentence. He was right, rest was the best option. This feeling of anger might just be down to the exhaustion and the shock of it all. This feeling is strong and needs to be remedied. Once he’s rested he’ll call Karen.