The Mugging

One of my worst memories is one that many children go through. My account dates back to the year 1998. This particular memory is an experience I want to forget. But its hard forget such a terrifying experience because of the traumatic affect it has on a child.

My ordeal starts in Birmingham. It was a cold, bitter evening in Birmingham. The air was thick and as cool as ice. As I took a breath, It felt as if my lungs were frozen. My cricket club had finished later than I had expected and it was beginning to get dark, ‘great’ I thought. Usually I would be sitting with my family watching the Simpson’s. But today was going to be different.

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As I walked on through the quiet, icy streets I looked up at the sky. It was a spectacular purple haze. I admired the beautiful array of colours which isn’t normally seen in parts of Birmingham. But then saw that the deadly darkness was starting to ooze through the sumptuous sky. Nightfall was soon.

It was the latest I had ever been out on my own and I wasn’t at all comfortable. I wanted to just sit down on my soft sofa and have a nice cup of tea to warm me up. But I was still a good 10 minutes walk from home.

I walked down Hamley Street, all was calm. There was nothing in sight. Suddenly I heard a set of thunderous footsteps. I stopped, Frozen like a statue. I looked up, coming towards me was a trio of tall, mad, mugging-like maniacs.

They were wearing t-shirts and trousers in this bitter, Antarctic like weather and they had dagger-like chains on. They were all wearing baggy tracksuit bottoms and sports trainers. Suddenly they stopped talking and looked at me. Eyeball to eyeball. I looked away, I looked left, and then right, now I was scared.

I got nervous. My palms started to sweat , I took and gigantic galloping gulp. My heart was pounding like a drum. I was so nervous, I felt like a pig sweating on a spit roast. Not even the sub-zero temperatures could cool my nervous. I started to silently shake.

They knew I was nervous. From the corner of my eye I looked at them. Their eyes were wide with excitement; they were licking their lips. It was if I was a helpless cub being tracked down by a gang of horrible, hungry hyenas. I was defenceless. The gap between us seemed to close by a mile everytime I took a step. I knew I had to do something.

I couldn’t make up my mind what to do. My head was spinning like a spinning wheel. I walked towards them, closer and closer. My heartbeat could be heard a mile away. Suddenly they came within one metre of me. The moment of truth was near.

Within and instant, I quickly hopped onto the road and skipped around them. I waited and walked on. They didn’t say anything. ” Phew “, I said to myself, with relief. I now felt calm. My palms were dry and my heart rate was back to normal.

I coolly strutted away. But then suddenly I heard a deep voice. ” Oy, you. Come over ‘ere “, mumbled one of the maniacs. I didn’t say anything, my brain just told me to walk. My heartbeat raced. I heard their footsteps, they were following me . Faster and faster I went. Until…………………bang, I ran off at the speed of light.

I looked behind me and to my dismay, they were still following me. It felt as if a herd of cheetahs after you and I was their supper. I heard their steps getting louder and louder. Suddenly I felt a cold hand touch my neck. A shiver ran down my spine. Defeat was near. There was no escape.

Within a millisecond, they had swarmed around me like a gang of wasps. I could hear them hissing like snakes. One of them grabbled me by my waist. I was totally outnumbered. Trying to scuffle out of their lion-like grip was next to impossible, I could hardly breath. Their strength was far superior.

I looked around me, in vain, for anything, an alleyway or side road.

To my relief, I saw an alleyway on the other side of the road. But it looked as if it were a mile away. But I had to make the break. I reached out with all of my strength. I tried to squeeze through them. But it was too difficult. Suddenly, I felt their grip lighten, I could finally breath again. With my last ounce of strength, I courageously tried to bulldoze my way out. But before I could break through, I was thrown to the ground. The predators had virtually won.

I fell flat on the stone cold floor. A sharp, stinging pain rain through my whole body. My hands had scraped along the gritty concrete. The skin had been peeled of my palms and the blood started to treacle out.

One of the gang members grabbed me from my jacket and lifted me up, with ease. He tightly held me towards up against the coarse, brick wall. His cold-blooded hand wrapped around my neck like a snake. I couldn’t move, I had no energy left. I felt like a ragdoll on a few strings.

” Gimme your stuff punk “, he said in a menacing voice. I didn’t reply, my mouth couldn’t move. He waited for a replay; his eyes went red with anger with my stubbornness. Suddenly he lost his patience and forcefully rummaged through my jacket, taking anything he could.

He let go of my neck, I flopped to the ground. ” Come on, let’s go “, one of the muggers shouted. They ran into the horizon, escaping with a few worthless pence. I was left there, helpless. I tried to get up, but all was spinning. I lay there on the street, there was nothing I could do.