Twitch

If you have ever witnessed lighting strike or a squirrel scurry from one tree to the next or the swift collision of two unexpecting cars, you would understand the nature of Twitch’s being. As a kid, he once scaled up the trunk of an 84-foot Sycamore tree, upon the sighting of a goldfinch, with only his bitten-down fingernails as leverage. His movements were so quick I often wondered if they had truly happened. The jittery dance of his left eye during the moments he had to sit still had earned him the nickname, Twitch. If two roads diverged in a yellow wood, Twitch would take them both. Along with quick limbs, Twitch was burdened with a quick mind. It served him at times. A champion at boxing, you could never quite connect with his face. It was as though his consciousness regarded the world through the perspective of a fly. He could see the jabs coming from miles away and seemingly grew tired, irritated by the wait. For when you missed, and you would miss, he would return your jab with three of his, so fast they landed as one. 

Pow Pow Pow. 

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The fight was over in all of 30 seconds. 

To everyone, Twitch seemed to have mastered the ring. Until one day, his inability to pause, to hesitate, to calculate, led the ring to victory.  

It was the night of his biggest fight yet. Twitch had managed to piss off the district area middle-weight champion, Bonefist the Man Killing Machine. This fight caught a lot of attention. Twitch was an up-and-coming star in the area. His stats were remarkable. Every man he fought had been dragged out on a stretcher with four missing teeth and a sudden urge to turn his life around. Bonefist was, however, a true master. He had double the body count and was known to break his opponent not just through swift and powerful punches but through their psyche.  He was quiet and tactful, he understood his opponents and, in the ring, turned their strengths into weaknesses. In a sense, there had never been a greater match-up than the one between Twitch and Bonefist. They were equals simply because one was the exact opposite of what the other was. It was a battle between two natures, slow and steady versus quick and rash. And whose to tell which would prevail. 

The fight kicked off with the sound of the bell. Twitch was on the offensive. His feet and torso pranced from side to side. His head swung low, shielded behind his forearms. He waited, agitated, in anticipation of Bonefist's first move. Bonefist stood cold near his corner. His head hung low and his forearms forward, yet his torso was relaxed. His feet were planted firm, as though they'd grown roots below the base of the ring. He stood breathing. So steady, one could follow the rise and fall of his chest. It would not be Bonefist who would make the first move. 

Twitch grew explosively impatient and swung the first hook. He aimed for Bonefist's head but missed. The swing was so fast and powerful that when it couldn't land its target, the force of it moved Twitch instead. He lost his balance. Suddenly, Bonefist struck his first jab to Twitch's torso. 

Pow. 

It connected. 

The crack of Twitch's ribs startled him. He was not used to taking punches. He regained his balance, but his irritation grew. Twitch’s reasoning dimmed as his senses woke with a jolt and a wave of insatiable anger. Bonefist stood steady, watching Twitch's eyes shift and jitter. Twitch pranced around the ring for a few seconds, then took a jab at Bonefist's torso. In one swift turn, Bonefist was out of Twitch's sight. The jab continued to accelerate, pulling Twitch with it. Twitch fell against the ropes and attempted to refocus his sight. Once he could see straight, Bonefist appeared before him. One jab to each side of his ribs and uppercut to the jaw drew the wind out of Twitch's lungs. Twitch's impulsivity had become his weakness. His punches pulled and tugged at him, but not once did they land on Bonefist; his own power was wearing him out.

Twitch’s body suddenly erupted into to fiery fit. He began swinging his arms, throwing abrupt punches in an attempt to overwhelm Bonefist. Bonefist dug his heels into the floor of the ring. He bent his head low, shielding himself with tense forearms and clenched fists. He took every hook, jab and cross Twitch sent his way. Twitch had no stance and no structure, his feet continued to move almost involuntarily. Then suddenly, he stopped. Exhausted, his arms felt to his sides. He looked up and took a heavy breath as Bonefist threw a right hook across his jaw. The fall was long and hard, the slowest anyone had ever seen Twitch move. He landed with open arms and closed eyes as his body thundered against the floor of the ring. In the hushed stadium, everyone watched as his immobility decided the winner of the fight. The final bell rang and some of the crowd jumped up, bellowing loud cheers and screams for the undefeated champion, Bonefist the Man Killing Machine. Others watched as Twitch succumbed to his injuries. 

Twitch never moved anything again. Not mind, not limb, not his ever-dancing left eye.

'You tellin’ me the man died?!'

'Died? Where the hell did you get that idea from.' 

'He never moved anything ever again. Sounds like death.'

'Oh man, he just stopped twitching. I just wanted it to sound more dramatic. Yeah, that KO knocked him straight.'

'Damn. So if he doesn't twitch anymore is he still called Twitch?'

'Nah, that was more of a fighting name though.' 

'Cool. What's his real name?'

'Reuben Bezoinski.'

'He might wanna stick to Twitch.' 

'Yeah, he might.'

'So, why'd you tell me this story again?'

'Look, all I'm trynna say is sometimes you gotta think before you act.'

'Got you.'