Suddenly from an adjoining alleyway came some hope. A man wearing a large overcoat and woolly hat. As he approached Dale noticed he was stumbling. After making his way up the alleyway he squatted down and spoke to Dale.
“You alright, mate?”
Dale opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find his voice. It was as if his mouth wasn’t getting the message; he felt empty. The man shuffled forward. It was then Dale smelt the alcohol on his breath.
“Here ya go d’ya won a bit of this,” he whispered. From beneath his undercoat the man pulled out a bottle of whisky. Again Dale tried desperately to find his voice, it had vanished. At this, the man shrugged his shoulders and walked off. As the drunk staggered up the alleyway Dale slumped to the ground feeling drained and hopeless.
But then, he heard some laughter getting closer and closer. By now he had lost lots of blood. He strained to turn his body and saw a leg turn the corner. It was a courting couple as they walked home from a romantic evening. They were holding hands and talking as they made their way towards him. When they reached him they slowed, they both looked but the lady looked down on him with a look of disgust. They almost strode right past him but then the man saw the blood. He stopped and said
“Hang on a sec, that man’s bleeding”
“Ah it’s nothing to worry about”, she said cuddling up to the man clinging on to his arm.
“No” he said.
“This is why I’m training to become a doctor. To help people.”
With this Dale’s eyes lit up. The man knelt beside him and said
“Are you O.K? What happened?” To this there was no response as the lady stood making shivering noises.
She said “Come on David, I’m freezing. If he wanted help he would have said so by now.” He rose to his feet “But”.
“But nothing”, she said pecking him on the cheek.
“You know we need to be getting home now, don’t you” giving him a provocative look. She linked arms and pulled him down the alleyway. The man looked back and mouthed, “I’m sorry”. As they faded into the distance along with the blood drained away any hope seemed to have disappeared. He felt deflated and decided he was going to die.
Alone, the boy lay bleeding on the sidewalk in the rain. Dale was an ‘intelligent lad’ as his Dad would say. He had suffered throughout school through bullying and was labelled a misfit. However he had come through that and was now doing well at college. He had a girlfriend who he had been with for just over a year and two great younger brothers. He was looking forward in life for the career he had worked so hard for and the relationship he had tried so hard for. Yet it seemed such a shame to die so young but the life drained out of him and trickled down the pavement.
Just as he resigned himself to dying a glimmer of hope emerged as a tramp came to the end of the alleyway. He pounded towards Dale on the pavement with his heavy boots carrying his sleeping bag and belongings on his back. The steam rising from the top of the coffee he was holding.
He called “Is that you Mickey”. With no reply he walked towards Dale. When he reached Dale he asked who he was; after no reply he asked
“Are you one of us” Dale sat again with no voice to answer. With all his effort Dale struggled to point to the blood seeping from his wound. The man saw the gash and jumped back in shock. He pulled a handkerchief and placed it over the wound. But the sound of a police car alerted the tramp who made a run for it. Scared of being accused of attacking the man and mugging him for his money the man ran down the alley and darted into a side street.
After that Dale was convinced that this was his last chance that had just passed. As the boy lay bleeding on the sidewalk bleeding in the rain he decided to take off his shirt that had brought him so much pain. The men who stabbed him didn’t stab him for who he was but for who he supported. So he gathered all his strength together to lift off his shirt. He was so determined he said to himself “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll do it.” He managed to pull the shirt off over his head. In doing so he had removed his identification.
As he lay bleeding on the sidewalk in the rain he started to become scared, scared of dying. He had lost all hope and his condition started to worsen. From the top of the alleyway came a silhouette of a man. The silhouette became bigger and bigger as the man approached until he realised Dale was injured. He dropped his carrier bag and ran towards Dale. Dale collapsed on the pavement said nothing. The man wore a Newcastle scarf and said
“What happened, who did this?” Dale sat with no voice to respond in a state of drowsiness.
“Right, I’m just going to try and stop the blood flow” pulling his Newcastle scarf from around his neck he tied it around Dale’s chest. Ironic really.
“Listen, I’m just going to find some help, you sit there. Don’t worry you’ll be fine I’ve found you now.” As the man sprinted up the alley Dale wondered. He thought to himself you’re not the first to find me.
The man ran desperately around the streets trying to find some help. When he came across a young girl. She stopped him and asked
“Excuse me, have you seen a young boy, I’ve lost my boyfriend.”
“Yes” he said
“He’s been stabbed down an alleyway. Quick, follow me.” The man led her to Dale who was left in a heap leaning against a fence. Whilst they were running back the man asked did she have a mobile phone so that he could ring an ambulance. She responded by pulling one out from the inside of her jacket and handing it to him.
She came to the top of the alleyway. She cried
“Dale” and came running down the alleyway. She burst into tears grabbed his hand and squeezed as hard as she could and said
“I love you Dale” and gave him a kiss. With that Dale gave her a wink as she cuddled up to him before he peacefully drifted away.
After spending the last few precious minutes with him Dale’s girlfriend sat sobbing in the alley; she knew it was to late. As the police approached she heard them say, “Bloody football hooligans, when will they ever learn?” She watched them approach and the rain still pouring down; washing Dale’s blood and any trace of his very existence into the sidewalk.
“That hooligans name was Dale,” she said.
