ANIMALS
Your
most important action when faced with an attack by a predator, your best chance
at survival, is your first reaction. In
the survival of the fittest, we call this “Fight or Flight”. It’s a general discharge of the sympathetic
nervous system, priming your body with the needed blood and oxygen to face
combat or flee, while systematically shutting down any bodily functions unnecessary
to your immediate survival. All creatures, beast and man, and beast of men, are
wired with this survival behavior.
To
me, it is proof of our place in the animal kingdom. Humanity is not a special entity that walks
on higher planes of existence, an exception to the laws of nature, or beyond
the struggle of all Earths species. I don’t give a fuck what you might believe;
we are not gods or righteous souls beyond the killing grounds of beast. We
flinch like beast, therefore we are beast.
Our
brains, politics, and religions, make us no exception to the rule. A grizzly bear will care nothing of your
moral fiber or your state of the art frontal lobes, and most likely will believe
itself to be god, as it eats the salty fat from your thighs. If you think yourself to be the center of the
universe, Gods greatest creation, and then a shark eats you, is the shark then
the center of the universe?
The reaction is inevitable. Even no reaction
is a reaction. It is how we react when the switch is flipped and the warning
lights come on, that will determine if we live or die. Though, my reaction wasn’t the only one that
saved my life that day in the yard. Equal credit is due to my assailants for
their non-reactions. Extremely violent
and without hesitation, my military training kicked in, guiding my instincts
and giving me full control of my situation.
Had
my reaction been to run the second I was free from that big bastards arms, the
whole yard would have seen it as an act of cowardice. It would be better to just let them kill me
then run. Had I froze like a deer in the
headlights, well, at least I would have had a much shorter sentence. Thankfully,
to my advantage, the blacks were so sure of their attack that they did not prepare
themselves for the possibility of biting off more than they could chew.
Once
free from that python like grip that acted as a tourniquet around my upper
waist, I felt a rush of internal blood come up my chest and into my mouth. Standing to my feet, I spit the blood
directly into the eyes of the punk who had shanked me. I reached my hands to my stomach to see if my
guts where hanging out. They were. What appeared to be a rope of intestine and
muscle was slowly bulging from my left side.
It
wasn’t too much that I couldn’t shove it back. Never taking my eyes off the big
nigger, I tucked my guts back into my belly and in the process found something
hard sticking out of my right side. I knew it wasn’t a broken rib and could
tell by the touch that it was foreign to my body. With a quick jerk, I was happy to see that I was
now in possession of the Styrofoam shank.
Resisting
the pull of gravity on my internals with my left hand, with my right, I made quick to put the
shank into the throat of the big nigger. An approach of killing that I was
accustomed to and would happen as if by second nature. He did nothing to stop me. He froze in fear and just stood there. A Goliath of a man, fully capable of stomping
me into the fucking dirt, just stood there and let me rip his throat out. No reaction is a reaction, in this case, the
wrong reaction.
His
mass shook the yard as it hit the grass with a full dead weight. I turned to face off with the smaller bitch
that stabbed me, only to find an all-out race war. Animals. Blacks and whites, painting the yard in
liquid red, altogether in a violent ballet of hate. For reasons unknown to me at the time, the
skins had come to my defense, but I couldn’t just fall back and let them fight
for me. I had to earn my own.
I
knew I had to find the nigger that stabbed me and at least put some marks in
him. Killing just the one who held me wasn’t going to be enough. This place is eye for an eye, and I most
likely wouldn’t have the opportunity of a later setting or situation to get him. In the chaos, all the while losing pools of
blood, I found myself disorientated, slashing at the air. Then, my knees buckled to the ground, my consciousness
coming in and out as I came to the realization that I was somehow in a death
roll with my original assailant.
He
pinned me with my back to the ground, which was fine by me. The shift of
gravity freed my left arm from the duties of keeping my spaghetti organs from
spewing out. I lost the shank in the
tackle and was now doing my best to avoid the large chunk of concrete that he was
trying to put into my skull. BANG! A burst of bright light. Flash grenades and tear gas canisters.
I
gouged my fingers into his eyes. Moving
with haste in our direction, I saw a black blur in my peripheral. It only had
my attention for fraction of a moment, just enough of a distraction to allow
for the concrete block to knock two of my front teeth through my bottom
lip. The impact sent a jolt of electric
rage into my blood. Cashing in the last
of my adrenaline, I flipped the nigger to his back and used my forehead to jack
hammer his nose into his brain.
Everything
in me was dying. I had lost a lot of blood and my body was essentially suffocating
due to lack of oxygen. I picked up the piece
of concrete and raised it high up over my head.
The black blur was now at my side.
BANG! A sharp pain in the back of my neck. A grenade?
Not this time. Everything went
black …
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