Okay, this is my first English story ever. I'm dyslectic ( that's writhing words wrong without knowing it, and well, seeing words wrong) So this is pretty hard for me. But because there aren't many Dutch QUATIM-readers I tought let's give it a shot, so here it goose:

Chapter 1) La Tortura.

Sands could feel it, this was it. He was going to die. He had been sitting here for more than one hour. He was against a wall in the burning sun, his body full of bullet wounds, and yet he couldn't feel it. This moment was like heaven, no pain. But this was by no means good. And his eye, or what was left of them, were burning and itching like hell.

But Sands didn't have the guts to scratch. He didn't dare touch his face, he was afraid of what he might feel. FUCK, he didn't even dare take his sunglasses off. He couldn't even do it, just sitting here was hard enough.

He took a deep breath. Why couldn't it just end right now? He knew he was going to die. The people who passed by knew it, even the chicle boy knew it. The kid had left him a half hour ago.

'Strange', Sands thought. Why did the kid go? First he kept following me around like my shadow, and than he just disappeared like a ghost. Oh, well cant expect loyalty from a boy who lives on the street…

Again Sands took a deep breath. Would it help if he counted sheep? Or did that only work with sleeping problems? But is dying not the same? Before he could thoroughly think through the question he heard a voice.

"Eso lo es, que él!"

Painfully Sands turned his head, to look at were the voice came from. But the only thing he saw was darkness. Terrifying darkness. The painful reality hit him in the face, for the second time today. He couldn't see anymore. He would never see again. He was FUCKING BLIND! May the fuckmook who did this to him, burn in HELL!

"Eso lo es, QUE ÉL!" There was that voice again. Wait he had heard that voice before, it was the chicle boy.

"Sut, arriba, Julio"!

Sands froze, there was another voice, it was very close now. He really didn't like this. Why did the boy come back? What did he want from him?

Then he felt a hand on his jaw. Instinctively he started to flail his arms in an attempt to fend them off. "Fuck off, don't touch me!" The little brat was probably back to rob him, and he had brought a friend with him. It wouldn't be surprising , you could trust no one.

"Calm down, señor". Sands heard now that this voice was high and light. Probably from a women or a girl. But at the moment Sands didn't give a damn. He just wanted everyone to keep walk and leave him alone. That wasn't too much to ask, was it?

"I'm here to help you, señor." Said the girly voice. What did the voice
mean by 'help'. A bullet to the head kind of help? Or a being put in the hospital kind of help? If he had a choice he would go for option numbor uno.

He hated hospitals more than anything in the world. For him it was a place were you waited for death. A slow and painful death full of treatments that don't work, needles being shoved into your skin, and numerous useless operations.

"Don't… need…help." Sands muttered. Memo to self. Blood loss does not improve speech. "Yes, señor you need help." The voice was closer now and hasty. "The rebellions are coming closer, and you don't want to be sitting in the middle of it, believe me."

Even Sands had to admit that sitting here with hundreds of screaming and shooting people around him, was not really a good choice. But of course he wouldn't admit that some one else, other than himself, was right.

"Whatever." Slowly he tried to stand up, supporting himself on the wall behind him. This was pretty difficult. He suddenly felt dizzy and he knew he was going to fall against the wall any second now. He started sweating and the hot Mexican sun wasn't the reason

"Señor, support yourself on me." He felt an arm against his shoulder. His right hand got laid on it . "Hang on to my shoulder señor, I'll get you to a safe place."

If Sands hadn't felt this bad he definitely would have laughed right in her face. A SAFE PLACE! In this freaking village? It would be more likely for you to find a cuddly porcupine. But willingly he let the voice walk him through the permanently dark world. Anything is better than sitting against a dirty wall with a fucking rebellion coming right at you.

Slowly they walked through the city. Sands noticed that the shoulder he leaned on was very low. It came to about his waist. She was probably young, maybe twenty or so. Sands didn't really care, as long as she didn't let him walk alone.

After a while the girl stopped. "Señor, were here." She took his hand and placed it on a wooden bench. " If you like you can sit, I have to talk to someone."

Grateful Sands sat on the bench. He could feel that he was in the shadows, probably under a lean-to of a house. He felt around and...yes, behind him was a wall. He sighed relieved. This appeared reasonably safe to him. Carefully he laid his head against the cold wall and it felt really nice. It was, at least, stopping his head
from exploding.

He heard voices coming out of the house. One was from the girl and one was from a much older lady, and he didn't recognize it.

"¡Es maldito mi cuarto". This voice was clearly from the girl and sounded angry.

"¡Y digo no ninguna manera". This one was from the old lady and she seemed pretty mad also.

"Por qué no!" The girl asked indignantly.

"Porque yo no quiero a hombres extraños en mi casa!" The older lady was furious.

"Pero es mi cuarto, y yo pagan por lo, aún exceso!" The girl sounded sweet and convincing. Sands heard some money roll.

The older lady made a deep sigh. "Santa Maria, your even more trouble than the mafia!"

"Por favor?" The girl's voice was begging now.

"Alright! "The old lady snapped. "But get him inside fast, junkies scare the customers away!"

Sand felt like his pride had just been stabbed with a very large knife. How dared that bitch call him a fucking junkie! If he wasn't blind he would definitely… Fuck there was that word again. BLIND. HE. WAS. BLIND. And not just blind, but BLIND! With absolutely no chance of recovery. Fuck, it was like his brain was creaming: BLIND! BLIND! BLIND!

He smacked his head against the wall. Maybe this would help make the thought go away. But after a couple of seconds he realised that it had not been a good idea. It felt like someone was cutting a piece out of his head.

A line of blood dripped along his cheek. GOOD JOB Sands! Look what you've done this time! LOOK… eyes… BLIND! FUCK! Again his brain was screaming. BLIND,BLIND,BLIND!

"Fuck off, shut up!"

"Señor, are you okay?" The girl's voice was back. Just great, now the kid was pitying him. Talk about a 'bad day'. The dizziness was

coming back. "Yeah, I'm fine…"

He felt a hand on his arm. "Come, señor you have to go inside." Yeah, like he didn't know that. But it wasn't as easy as it sounded, was it? He had two bullet wounds in his right leg. One in his left leg, right under his knee. One in his left arm and last but not lease he had lost alot of blood and...oh yeah, he was BLIND. B-L-I-N-D!

But he didn't have any strength left to fight the girl off. So he let her walk him in to the house, like a little child. The girl guided him to the second floor. He heard some keys, the cracking sound of a door and before he knew it he was sitting on a couch.

"Do you want something to drink señor?". The girl asked softly. The only thing Sands could do was nod. He was so tired, so fucking tired. Not to mention thirst.

He heard footsteps walking away from him. They walked to another room. Then he heard water running, and the footsteps came back. His hand got lifted and he was handed a glass of water. Grateful, he started drinking. He had never thought water could taste so good.

"You can go to sleep if you want señor. I'll call a doctor and…"

Sands looked up to the girl, or were he thought the girl might be standing. "No! No doctors!"

"Yes señor, you need a doctor. I don't know anything about bullet wounds!" The girl sounded al little panicked.

Sands didn't care much. " I don't care. No FUCKING doctors, understood! I'm fine, I just need some sleep. I'll be fine… just no doctors!"

For a moment Sands heard nothing. He wondered if the girl had run
away, which would have been good idea for her. But no, the brat was still in the room." Okay, señor, no doctors. Just go to sleep."

The footsteps walked away again and after several minutes they came back. The girl brought a pillow and a blanked. She made sure he was comfortable and tucked him in like a baby. Sands didn't care anymore. He was just glad he wasn't still against that dirty wall. He defiantly preferred to be on a warm, comfortable sofa. He noticed that the girl had put some painkillers in his water, how sweet. Finally, he felt relaxed enough to fall asleep.

Translations:

Eso lo es, que él: That's him, that's him!

Sut arriba, Julio": Sut up, Julio

Chicle: gum.

Señor: sir, mister.

Es maldito mi cuarto: It's my god damm room!

¡Y digo no ninguna manera! (en ik zeg je er komt niks van in!)

¿Por qué no? Why not!

¡Porque yo no quiero a hombres extraños en mi casa: Because I don't want strange men in my house!

¡Pero es mi cuarto, y yo pagan por lo, aún exceso: But it's my room, and i will pay extra.

So this was my first crappy English chap. Hope you liked it a little bit. You can't imagine how long it takes for me to write it. So please if you liked it review it, and if you don't, review too so I know what I have to change or do better, 'cause review's are very important for me, if I don't get one I'll just stop writhing

And ones again, many thanks for my beta reader fanfiction fanactic!