This is a short story that I wrote a couple of years back based on a song by one of my favorite bands, The Fray. I thought it'd be fun to start this section off with an old one. Hope you enjoy.
The Fighter
Emelia watched as his chest rose and fell, from breathing. She stared at the man she'd always loved, even before he was a man. She tried not to focus on the bruises, and the scars. But her eyes were constantly drawn to them, they hurt her, she was sure more than they hurt him. Her whole body ached, and in her mind flashed images, but she didn't have to worry about those anymore. Because he'd promised. No more fighting, he'd said. They didn't need the money that badly. Oh but they did, and she knew that Keir always kept his word, except about this. He was a strong man, the strongest there was. But, when he saw her getting thinner, and even more so when he saw Wes, it was too much for him. He loved that little boy. Times were hard for everyone, fighting made Keir more money than any of the jobs the Americans had been so kind to give to him. But times were always hard for Irish immigrants. Emelia put her head in her hands. How could she make this stop? She couldn't take one more night of tending to his bruises, and cleaning his wounds. One more night of the pain being too much, and the delirium. It broke her heart every time. She watched his face, he moved slightly in his fitful sleep, he grimaced. Still recovering from a fight at least two weeks ago. Her mind wandered back to when they were so young, waving at their parents as the shore of their Irish homeland quickly faded away. He put his hands on her waist and whispered in her ear.
"We'll make 'em proud aye Emmi?"
"Aye." She whispered back, looking up at his large green eyes, his curly dark hair fell into his eyes. She loved how his nose crinkled when he smiled, and light shone through his eyes. He leaned closer to her.
"I'll make you proud, Emmi. I promise ya. I'll be the best ther' is because you deserve it. And I love ya Emelia, 'til me hearts stops. I'll be your fighter." He kissed her lips. She still remembers how her head spun, the smell of the sea, and the feel of his arms around her. She was only sixteen, and him only a year older, just married. Ready to start a new life, in a new place. But things hadn't turned out as glorious as they imagined. Keir tried to keep his promise, but food was scarce, and jobs were scarcer, and with the baby on the way, times were tougher. So he took up fighting, it ran through his Irish veins, and he was good at it, but Emelia still held her breath, no matter if she knew he would win. She couldn't bear to see him so broken and battered, not her love. When baby Wes came times were worse, but oh so happy. She'd never seen Keir smile so much as when Wes was in his arms, never look so proud. It broke his heart to see either of them go hungry, so he took up the fighting again, but this time it was worse, he came home later, some nights he could barely make it up the old staircase to their apartment. Nights were long, and days were painful, Emelia couldn't remember the last time her heart felt whole. She turned away from Keir's bruised face, and glanced over at Wes, sleeping soundly in the corner. Barely ten, yet he'd seen too much in his short life. He'd never been well, only last year had everything spiralled out of control, only last year had Keir's promises stopped being fulfilled, and it wasn't his fault, he had to do it. For the poor little boy, the one who had spent more days sick than healthy, the one who would never walk again. Keir couldn't help but feel guilty for it. If only... He'd said to Emelia a million times over, if only, I hadn't gotten held up inside the store, I could've stopped him, I could've taken his place. But where would they be if Keir had gotten hit by the runaway horse and buggy, and not Wes? Even farther down in the never ending hole. But one day Emelia was determined to make it end, she would do whatever she could, because she wouldn't see her men hurting like this forever.
"Emmi, won't you at least try to sleep?" She heard Keirs hoarse voice whisper, his Irish accent wasn't as thick as it used to be, the American's had gotten to him, her too. And Wes never spoke a lick like the Irish in his life. She felt his hand wrap around hers.
"The boy will be fine." He whispered as she laid down next to him, he wrapped his strong steady arms around her.
"I know it." She whispered "It ain't the boy I'm worried about."
"I'll keep you safe." He whispered in her ear, she could feel his breath against her skin, it brought chills to her spine. Her heart beat violently inside her chest.
"Will you keep yourself safe?" She whispered breathlessly, she wasn't even sure she really said it. His eyes opened, they were locked on hers.
"I can't stop Emmi." He said
"Please Keir! Think of Wes..."
"I am. Don't you think I am? You and Wes are all I think of, I am doing this for you two."
"But Keir, it hurts us so badly."
"Please, Emelia- not tonight." He kissed her forehead, "Let's not argue tonight, lets be peaceful tonight."
She nodded slowly, and let herself lean into him, she could feel the rhythm of his heart. He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, and fell asleep to the sound of her breathing, he let himself dream of all the hopes they had when they were still teenagers, he was not yet thirty, but he already felt like an old man, like the weight of the world was hanging on his incapable shoulders. He tried so hard to carry the burden, but tonight he felt broken. He had to suck it up though, because tomorrow there would be no room for weakness, tomorrow he would fight. Because he must fulfill the promise he made so long ago, to make her proud.
"Where is Da?" Wes asked from his chair, Emelia looked up from her knitting, she swallowed hard as she glanced up at the clock, he should've been home from work nearly an hour ago.
"He's just out child, now continue your reading." She said tightly, she couldn't focus on her knitting any more, she sat there for only a few seconds more before giving it up completely. She stood up abruptly, placing her work back on her chair. She went to the bathroom, her curly red hair was a mess, she did as much as she could to fix it, she pinched her cheeks, to try and shake the coldness, she grabbed her shawl from the dresser and placed it over her shoulders.
"I'll be back soon Wes, don't you worry."
He nodded slowly, "Yes mama." he whispered.
Emelia swallowed hard, and twisted the doorknob, she would find that man, and give him a good piece of her mind, the door was barely opened, before she stumbled back in, Keir helped her catch her balance.
"Wher' you goin'?" He asked, Emelia eyed him suspiciously.
"To find ya!"
"Oh.." He looked away, with his hands deep in his pockets, he glanced over at Wes, and smiled at him. It was a sad smile, that made Emelia's heart hurt.
Keir looked away abruptly, she followed him closely to the bedroom. She watched him as he reached for his old shoes, and slipped his shirt off. His body was strong and muscular, but she could still see the bruises. He loosened his belt.
"Toss me that shirt, please?" he pointed to an old shirt in the nearly empty closet. Emelia forced herself to move, she took it off the hanger, and handed it over to him.
"What are you doing all this for?"
He looked at her, for a long hard second, her heart melted to the floor and her stomach did flip-flops. He never answered but she already knew.
"No..." She whispered, "Please..." He didn't answer, he laced up his shoes. "Keir...." She couldn't hide the emotion in her voice, she touched his shoulder.
"I've got to do it Emmi." He whispered, pulling his shirt over his head,
"No you don't!" She protested, holding his arm.
"Yes, this one will make me a lot of money, the prize is giant. It will pay for more medicine for Wes and the food, and rent!"
"But Keir, please. It breaks my heart to see you so hurt." She whispered it, he pulled her close to him.
"I know, I know, I know..." He whispered, he brushed his fingers through her hair, she looked up at him. "Just this one last time, alright? I swear, you'll still be my Emmi." He tried to smile at her, but it was hard, and his promises about this sort of thing weren't worth much, this was easy money for him, and he couldn't live without money, he couldn't keep his family alive without money. He rubbed his finger across her face.
"I love you Emelia, I want to make you happy." he whispered leaning his forehead against hers.
"I'm happy when you're not fighting."
"Tonight, will be my last fight! I really do promise it this time."
"Oh Keir...." She whispered miserably.
"And I'll take a steady job." He continued "And once we've saved up enough money, we'll move somewhere warm, like the south, for Wes. And I'll farm like when I was a boy, and we can grow our family, away from the noise of New York City, away from the fighting. Does that sound like a plan?"
"It sounds like a dream." She whispered.
"I'll make your dreams come true, Emelia." He kissed her lips, "but tonight, they're still fantasies."
He stood up, his heart beating quickly, he could see the tears starting to form in her eyes, he couldn't stay for much longer.
"I'll think of you." He whispered. Before turning his back to her.
Keir tried to control himself, but his mind was wondering. The night was almost over, but that didn't mean the fighting was, he could feel the dawn creeping in through the windows. Crowds of people surround the ring, he couldn't hear anything, he couldn't make out any of their faces, all he could see was Emelia, her pretty face, her curly hair and pale skin. Her piercing eyes. He'd never loved anyone so much as he loved her, he just wanted to make her proud.
"Get yourself together!" A man yelled in Keir's ear
"I bet my money on you!" Another screamed, Keir stood to his feet, the fight hadn't even begun and people were already yelling things at him. Tonight would be the last time though. He tried to pull himself away from his thoughts, he eyed his opponent in the corner. The man was tall, his dark black hair, and tan skin looked oiled. His muscles bulged, and he eyed Keir like a vicious animal, about to strike.
For Emelia and for Wes. Keir told himself, over and over again. His brain was foggy when the bell rang, and his opponent pounced, like the animal Keir could tell he really was. He pushed him back against the edge of the ring, Keir swung his arms with all his might, into the animals ribs, his stomach, he even managed to get his jaw, but the man didn't flinch. He pounded his fists into Keir's body. Keir could feel his ribs crack. He shoved the man away with all the force he could muster. The man stumbled back, Keir tried to breathe, but it had never been so hard, he wiped the blood from his mouth. He looked upwards, for a split second. His head spun when he saw her face, terror was all over it, she was as white as a ghost. He could barely see her through the crowd, but his eyes locked on hers, he shook his head.
"Emelia." he whispered, before the animal pounced again, knocking his breath away. Keir kicked his legs furiously, he swung his arms at the man, but the animal wouldn't relent. Keir fought on, but it was becoming harder than it had ever been, he couldn't see straight anymore, he couldn't even breathe, he wasn't even sure is his arms were still moving. All he could think of was Emelia. He had to do this, for her. To make her proud, they came here for a new life, a beautiful one. And he hadn't been able to give her that, he just wanted to give her, something she deserved.
Keir didn't see it coming the animal raised his arm, every muscle in his arm bulged as he pulled it backwards, and then forwards again, with as much force as he could muster, right into the side of Keir's head. Keirs face went white, his arms went weak, his head spun out of control. He couldn't breathe, he collapsed limp to the ground. The lights seemed so bright, and he couldn't make out any sounds. Except a shrill scream of a voice he knew.
"Keir!" She called his name
She pushed through the crowd, she didn't care who it was, she knocked people out of her way until she was at the ring, no one tried to stop her as she rushed under the bar, and ran to his side.
"Emelia..." he whispered over and over, the pain was overwhelming, he never knew it was so hard to breathe. Emelia wrapped him in her arms, her tears were falling onto his cheeks. She kissed his bruises. He wouldn't stop whispering her name.
"Please Keir." She whispered through her tears "You're alright.." She said.
"I love you Emelia." He whispered, he mustered up enough strength to put his hand to her face, he twisted a piece of her hair around her finger.
"I know, I know, I know..." She whispered. She kissed his trembling lips. She touched his hand against her face.
"Please don't leave me Keir."
"I just wanted to make ya proud Emmi." He could barely whisper.
"Oh Keir, you have.." she laid her head against his chest. "You've always made me proud."
"Emelia!" he whispered, in a panic. his whole body rigid. She sat up straight,
"I'm here Keir."
"Oh Emelia, I'm so cold! Please don't leave me, it's so dark Emmi- please stay with me."
"Keir, You're alright, please Keir..." She leaned her head against his forehead.
"Emelia, I'm still your fighter." He whispered, so low she could barely hear it.
"Always, my fighter, my love." She whispered, the last words he ever heard.
The young girl stared at her grandfather, with a displeased look. Her curly red hair, was pinned back, and her arms were crossed over her light pink dress.
"Is that a real story grandpa?"
The old man laughed "A real story? What does that mean?"
She huffed loudly "I mean is it real life? Or pretend?"
the old man laughed softly, then nodded slowly.
"It's real life love."
"That's so sad! Why did he have to die?"
"Nobody knows why he had to, he just did, he was a great man."
"Did you know him?"
The old man nodded slowly. He stood up slowly, and reached for a picture off the mantle, it was old and worn, creased in a few places, and taped back together in others, he handed it to the eager young child.
"That man there is him, Keir. And the woman is his love, Emelia. That was taken before they came to America, they were still very young."
The girl nodded.
"Grandpa, I think you look like him, the man."
He smiled a little, and nodded.
"Oh yes, maybe so- he was my father."
She looked up sharply.
"Keir was your father? and Emelia your mother? You were little Wes?"
He nodded.
"But Wes, was always sick, he couldn't walk...." she stared at him confused.
"My father was always a fighter, so I in turn wanted to be a fighter like him, but on different accounts that is. I couldn't break my mothers heart by really fighting, like he did. But I wanted to be like him so much that I decided to be strong like him."
"Oh Grandpa!" she leaned closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. He laughed as he pulled her off of him, he set her down on his knee.
"And you, little one were named after Emelia, Emmi."
"Oh really? I'd like to be like her, I think she is just as strong as you or Keir."
"Oh, much stronger than us, just like you."
She laughed as he kissed her cheek. She held the picture close to her, she stared at the man and the woman, still so young in the picture. But in their eyes she could see it, the same light in her grandfathers, and on occasion in her own, they were fighters.
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