Blood on Our Hands

‘What the fuck was that?’

I’m screaming

and Nicu’s

    behind me

screaming back.

What just happened?

Did Dan get stabbed?

I mean,

Wood-Green-gang-stabbed

like the proper hood boy he pretends to be?

Yeah,

he deserved to get hurt,

but why did Nicu have to be the one to do it?

And why now,

just as we were getting away,

just when I thought things were looking

up?

We round a corner,

leg it down an alleyway

and almost collapse at

the end

of it,

hiding between a pair of wheelie bins.

‘How badly did you hurt him?’ I blurt out.

‘Did you kill him?’

Nicu can’t speak.

He’s just gasping, panting,

then punching one of the wheelie bins to bits.

Punching and

hollering and

punching and

hollering.

I’ve no idea what he’s saying.

‘Stop!’ I scream

and grab his hand.

‘Your hand’s bleeding,’ I say,

feeling the blood’s slipperiness between my fingers,

coughing up a little bubble of sick.

He exhales.

‘Not my blood, Jess,’ he says.

I close my eyes, thinking.

Thinking.

What do we do now?

Where do we go?

Mum? Dawn?

The police?

That’s it:

we go to the police.

It was self-defence,

broad daylight.

I hold on to Nicu

tight,

two hands gripping his shoulders.

‘We have to give ourselves up.’

‘No.’

‘If we run away

it’ll look well suspicious.

They’ll think we meant it.’

He shakes his head,

pulls his cloak

up to hide his face.

‘We have to, Nicu.

We haven’t got a choice.’

He steps away from me,

eyes filling with tears,

looking like a little kid.

You have choice, Jess,

because police believing

white girl

speaking good English.

But me.

They seeing only

gypsy boy

with

criminal paper.’

He kicks the wall.

‘Shit,’ I say,

because he’s right.

The police wouldn’t believe him for a second,

and not just Nicu;

with my offender’s record

they wouldn’t believe me either.

We’re textbook delinquents.

Guilty before we’ve even

opened our mouths.

‘We must to go far away now,’ he says.

‘We can cutting hair and

changing names

and nobody remember

us

after.

OK, Jess?’

He wipes his hands on his cloak,

shudders when a dog in the distance

barks.

‘Yes,’ I say.

‘I think we have to go

away like we planned.’

I take his hand.

I hold on tight.

‘Let’s get you cleaned up

first,’ I say.

‘Let’s wash this blood off your hands.’