Wrong turn

His dirty, bare feet slapped against the cobbles as he made his way through the alleyways. Skipped over a crate, slid beneath a fence, darted into a side-path and skid to a halt in front of a wooden wall. I’ve taken a wrong turn... Where did I take a wrong turn?! As the thoughts struck Aodhred, the truth of the matter was made clear as footsteps were heard making their way in his direction. Too late. Got to face the music. "Well now, Puddle. Looks like you’ve got nowhere to run.” The slow, dragging voice grated on Aodhred’s patience as his thoughts raced. Face him head on? Kick him in the fruits? Osberht, an older boy, his chest heaving from exhaustion, made his way towards the much smaller Aodhred. Scream for help? Who’d help me..? Think, think, think.- damn it. The time for thought was over, replaced by a pressing need for action as Osberht aimed a meaty fist at Aodhred’s face. He threw himself flat onto the ground, avoiding the blow by a whisker. Balling his tiny fists, he launched himself upwards at the much larger kid, in a small but angry torrent of blows. Having always been the smallest boy around, he’d never been much of a fighter. Osberht was taken by surprise but it only lasted a moment. Shit, shit, shit! Easily avoiding Aodhred’s meager reach, he shielded his face with one hand only to deliver a hefty right hook straight into Aodhred’s gut. Oh here we go… The air went out of him like a punctured waterskin and he reeled back, smacking into the wall behind him and crumpled to the ground. Trying to catch his breath, Aodhred readied himself for the raging onslaught he was about to face. Doubled over in pain, he placed the palm of his hand on the ground to steady himself. What’s this? His grubby little fingers gripped about something round, coarse and firm, but more importantly, something loose. With a hoarse scream, he held onto the loose stone and swung upwards at the looming figure, praying to whatever force that was listening to hit home. A surprised yelp was all that Osberht managed to utter before he received a mouthful of cobblestone, teeth shattering from the impact. Aodhred was quick to act as the larger boy went down. He jumped onto Osberht, straddling him across the chest and began raining down blows onto his face. Die, die, die! Just die! "Akh!" Fingers gripped his mottled hair and tore him off Osberht. The only thing he saw before he was swung straight into the side of the wall, was a pair of faces. Oh blast it… When Osberht is around, the two walking, thrice-damned, suppurating arseholes known as Clot and Tully can be expected to have his back. Aodhred once more crumpled to the ground, the fight having spilled out of him as he resigned himself to his fate. The two boys helped their friend up and as the three of them walked up to Aodhred and began delivering a merciless onslaught of blows, only one thought struck him. Where did I take a wrong turn? All went black.