Here is the next installment if my short story:
It was because she was still virtually unknown in professional MMA, Rochelle still had to rely on her day job delivering supplies to fish and chip shops up and down the east coast of England from her home town of Skegness. However, she did like her job a lot, especially on a Wednesday because it involved a lot of driving making deliveries to Clacton-on-Sea and Brighton. That gave her time to reflect back on her last fight and begin mentally preparing for the next while all the time, taking in the views of the sea.
The coastal drive had taken the entire morning, so she was glad for the break after the shop in Brighton took delivery. That shop happened to be right on the sea front, so she took her sandwiches and bought a bottle of orange juice and went to go sit in the sand to enjoy her lunch and the view. Her plan was briefly disrupted when she heard the shop owner remark, “I wish those feral delinquents wouldn’t come around here.”
She looked in the direction the owner was indicating. Across the road, near the beach, about ten to fifteen youths, all looking between the ages of 16-20, were standing about. Everything about them confirmed the owner’s label of the group in her mind. She thought, “What a bunch of chavs!” Half of them were in hoodies despite the warmer weather and most of them were smoking. The coarse language could be clearly heard even from where Rochelle was standing. Suddenly, the gang’s attention turned to one young man who happened to be walking past them. This young man was around the same age as the group, possibly a few years older. Right away, she could see that he was vulnerable, probably having special needs.
Four of the group quickly surrounded the young man while the rest took positions where they could best view the upcoming spectacle. One lad, wearing a New York Knicks basketball top and three-quarter length trousers assumed the role of leader. While Rochelle could not quite make out everything that was being said, it was obvious he was being threatening to his victim. The self-proclaimed leader was now in the young, vulnerable man’s face. After several shoves from him and some of his cohorts, the young man handed something over to his chief tormentor, obviously money in Rochelle’s mind. After the leader accepted the tribute, the young man was allowed to pass but not before one of the girls in the group kicked him in the bottom, bringing loud laughter to the rest of the group.
She had to use every ounce of her resolve in order to prevent herself from going over to the gang and slapping everyone of them senseless. What they had just done was wrong but she knew that if she had confronted the gang, her MMA skills would not have helped her against such numbers. At the same time, she wanted to go comfort the victim but he had quickly disappeared. Instead, she went back to her original plan of eating her lunch on the beach before making the drive home. However, she could not get the incident she had witnessed out of her mind.