Chapter 2 (Hope you like!)

As I rush to my opponents, I could feel their fear. I hunger their fear. If they were fearless, I would starve. I had to show no mercy, and feed. As I swung my sword, I could feel their brains calculating times to strike. I had to counter-strike every lunge, jump, and insult.

"Die, you sc--" I was cut off by a harsh whistle.

"ENOUGH! Go refresh yourselves, James, meet with me after class." Yelled the Battlemaster.

I gave my pal a questioning look, but he shrugged it off. As I headed off to the showers, I could tell my opponents were dissapointed. I quickly rinsed off and threw clothes on, and then met James outside.

"Hey man, what was that all about?" I said; he obviously looked hurt.

"It... It's nothing. It truly is. He just said I need to work on my bravery. I kinda backed outta' the fight and let you go in instead." He whispered.

I slugged him on the shoulder, and then gave him a pat on the back, "'Ey man, it's fine. I bet you're hungry, want to grab something before Archery?"

He grumbled something, or it was his stomach. I knew he was hungry, for he is always energetic and has to move around. As we walked to the bakery, James began to moan.

"You alright? You look kind of pale." I said soothingly.

He nodded, obviously lying. I shrugged it off, but still keeping a close eye on him. As we entered the store, I ordered two milks and a loaf of bread. As we sat down, I noticed James had some crazed eyes, and was giving the bread the death stare. I couldn't help but grin.

Of course we couldn't eat in peace, for someone dashed into the store, and slit the bakers throat, and ran out with a bag of coins. I stared in disbelief as the baker crumpled to the floor, with James at his side.

"No no no!" cried James "Damn those thieves. Zack, get me some cloth,"

I shook my head, "He's gone, nothing we can do for him. Close his eyes,"

***

The incident at the bakers kept me and James away from alleys and the dangerous parts of town. Everyone once in a while I would look up at James and see a tear fall down from his eyes.

"You haven't experienced a murder before, have you?" I asked.

He just kept staring at the ground, for he knew I knew the answer. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just kicked a rock, and started to hasten his pace. I had to jog just to be in arms length of him. As I got the chance, I grabbed his shoulder, and made him face me.

"Za... Zack... What did it feel like to you when your dad was stabbed at the market?"

I looked at him, dumbfounded. Why would he bring that up? He didn't even know the baker! He won't even remember a thing tomorrow morning. It's a lot different when it's a loved one...

As I strolled over to the fruits, I motioned for my dad to come here.

"Daddy, Daddy! Look! Can we get apples?" I squealed.

He grinned, and then ruffled my hair. He grabbed a bagful of honey-dipped apples. As we were paying, someone called out "Why are there no apples left?!"

And when my father turned around, he raised his hand and said "Sorry, kind sir, would you like some of mine?"

The man looked furious, took out a knife, and charged at me. To my horror, my dad stepped in the way, and fell to one knee.

That's all I could remember, though why would I want to remember more?