By using the trans-generational war cry of "Carncunt", he had moments earlier dared another alcohol fuelled youth to hit him. And hit him he did; 'smack' - 'smack' - 'smack' with pauses long enough between for the receiver to move well clear of the punches. But he stood there, without moving, allowing the punches to connect at full force. He then stared at his opponent for a moment before the pain of the punches sunk in, then as his eyes moved downward so did the tears. The tough boy had disappeared, to be replaced by the beaten child within.
With the only weapon he had left - guilt, he let out the aforementioned revelation: "I was injected with heroin when I was two" as blood streamed from his mouth and floods of tears rolled from his eyes.
He was trying to turn his opponent into an attacker. "How could you hit someone who was injected with heroin as a kid"? he was saying.
Soon all hell broke loose as he started throwing his own fists about, hitting anyone and anything (mostly air). As the train pulled into the next station he was thrown onto the platform and beaten again. This time with a bottle apparently. Cops and ambulances arrived and the train went nowhere for 20 or 30 minutes as the police chased two of the fighters down the tracks and the ambo's patched up the other one.
Passengers, of which there were few sighed and lamented, complained under their breath and waited patiently. This is nothing new to them it seems. This train line is full of this sort of thing. "Why aren't the carriages patrolled?" was a common question as the train sat motionless.
One of the youth involved in the ruckus began to tremble as another passenger started talking with him. "It was self defence" he tried to explain. "You Lie You Fry" said the passenger as he reminded the kid that there are cameras all over the carriage which surely would have recorded what happened. The kid trying to maintain his sheen of toughness, the same sheen that allowed him to wave his beer bottle around the carriage only a stop or two ago, said "I'll just bail".
"You Run You're Done" said the passenger who added a few more rhyming words of advice that cut straight through the kid who now realised he was in trouble. A tome of rhymes were sent his way as the kid grew more and more fearful and defensive. "It wasn't my fault, it was self defence".
Then suddenly, as we are waiting for the police to arrive back to begin questioning people as to what happened the two runners arrive back on board, the doors close and the train departs.
Passengers, of which there were few sighed and lamented, complained under their breath and waited patiently. This is nothing new to them it seems. This train line is full of this sort of thing. "Why aren't the carriages patrolled?" was a common question as the train sat motionless.
One of the youth involved in the ruckus began to tremble as another passenger started talking with him. "It was self defence" he tried to explain. "You Lie You Fry" said the passenger as he reminded the kid that there are cameras all over the carriage which surely would have recorded what happened. The kid trying to maintain his sheen of toughness, the same sheen that allowed him to wave his beer bottle around the carriage only a stop or two ago, said "I'll just bail".
"You Run You're Done" said the passenger who added a few more rhyming words of advice that cut straight through the kid who now realised he was in trouble. A tome of rhymes were sent his way as the kid grew more and more fearful and defensive. "It wasn't my fault, it was self defence".
Then suddenly, as we are waiting for the police to arrive back to begin questioning people as to what happened the two runners arrive back on board, the doors close and the train departs.
