Moments after the ordeal, Junya lay flat on his back in the middle of a packed dance floor. The patrons had seldom cleared the area; people danced around his body as if it were not there at all. A woman that was dancing accidentally stepped on Junya.s arm and began to scream when she looked down to see a man laying on the floor all bloodied up.
A security guard that was standing nearby rushed over to see what the
commotion that started to gather was all about. The patrons now took time to
see Junya lying on the floor, bloodied all in his face, his garments laced with wet
boot prints and blood. The same security guards that gave Junya problems
getting into the club were now helping to get him out of the club.
"I knew this one was going to be trouble!" One guard said to the other.
The two men picked Junya up by his arms and carried him through the
club on their shoulders.
They brought him to the main entrance and threw Junya
outside of the fancy door and onto the sidewalk in front of the club.
Junya felt himself coming too, as he opened his half-shut swollen eye to
see that his face was on the concrete. He rolled over to the side where he got
kicked in the shoulder and used his right arm to push himself up off of the cool
ground into an upright position. He looked up to see four passer bys looking at
him in disgust. Junya slowly sat up off of the ground and realized that he was in
the front of the club. He felt wet, and there were pains in his body that were
killing the shit out of him. His mouth felt numb, and his watch that Khevasiah
bought him was missing.
The main entrance door was closed and the velvet rope that housed
direction to the VIP had been put away. Junya held his hand up to look through
the dark glass of the small window of the main entrance door. He saw his
reflection of his face with the hand cast shadow; beaten badly and covered in his
own blood. Junya used his good arm to slowly peel off the drenched jacket while
he stared in disbelief at boot prints, bloodstains, and stains from the liquor
covered floor. Junya wiped the blood off from his mouth, doing so in extreme
pain. Junya felt like he had fallen on his face. His mouth hung open because his
nostrils were so heavily filled with blood. Junya slid back down to the ground;
his back against the outside wall of the club. He tried not to cry as he grabbed at
obvious broken ribs; his side killing him with pain. As the wind picked up on an
already cool night, a police cruiser drove by and saw Junya sitting on the ground
in front of the club.
The officer slowed down in his cruiser and looked in Junya.s
direction.
"You have to get out of here, you here me...go on, git!" The pale faced
officer exclaimed. Junya looked up at the officer with his face all bloodied; red spit slowly
making its way out the side of his swollen jaw and onto his wife-beater tee shirt.
The officer turned his head in disgust and pulled up to the club, parallel parking
next to a yellow Mercedes Benz coupe that was parked in front of the club with
its hazard lights blinking. The officer turned on the police cruisers lights and
approached Junya. The officer withdrew his flashlight from his waist, and
loosened the safety latch to his pistol. He shone the light in Junya.s face, and
looked as he sat on the ground holding his side.
"You have a problem understanding English boy? He said as he kicked
his foot onto Junya.s own."
Junya tried to speak back to the officer, but he did not want any
unnecessary trouble that he was sure he would get into, or worse, an additional
beating from the officer. Junya was in too much pain, and unable to defend
himself. If at worst, the officer assumed Junya was really drunk and had a fight
in the club; which was the truth. Junya did not know where he was nonetheless,
and he did not know where Khevasiah was, despite what occurred in the club.
"I...I...I.m...my bad officer...bu...but I had uh..." Junya uttered
strategically to the officer, without raising his voice.