“The knife belongs to me.” Kyron gripped the door handle tighter, ready to yank the door when he had a chance. He saw red; he could still see the prat’s smirking face across the street; he sought revenge. He was ready to cut, slice and dice his way into them until they begged him for forgiveness!

“You’re not going… put the knife down.” Chris had edged himself between the door and his brother. He was almost a foot taller -and his brother was a runt for his age- but it took all his strength to keep him at arms length. He knew they’d pushed him too far this time. “It ain’t worth it kid. There’s six of them and one of you. You won’t walk away from this; you’re either leaving in a body bag or hand cuffs. I’m telling yah, they ain’t worth it “.

Kyron’s eyes were bloodshot from his tears; he could hardly spit the words out, “Like you care. I ain’t asking you, I’m fucking telling you,” he released his grip of the handle but brought his knife forward, two hands on the grip and directed the sharpened steel towards his brother’s neck, “Get out of my way!”