Unlucky Duck: FINAL

Sam waited impatiently for Duck behind the dilapidated red brick building, tapping his clean white sneaker against the dirty blue bicycle rack he leaned against. Brushing the sweat stained hair out of his eyes he glanced down at his black rubber wristwatch. It was already 4:45 p.m. and most of the kids had already left school.

Duck would be a fool to meet him here and settle the score, because he was sure to get a serious beat down, but nevertheless Sam knew that Duck would arrive. He knew it because it was a bad decision and Duck always made bad decisions. Peering around the corner of the school just past a nearby signpost with flyers for some missing dog nailed to it, he saw a distant shape approaching.

Sure enough it was Duck. Slightly hunched forward, thin and gangly, and walking with his arms hanging down limply at his sides, Duck was a picture of disappointment. This was going to be child's play. Sam wanted to feel bad but it was time to teach Duck a lesson, and not time to feel sorry for him. Nobody stared at his girl like that all day. Nobody.

Making a show of sudden aggression, Sam took his shirt off in a ridiculous display. He tossed it casually against the dusty white graffiti of the school's brick wall. Approaching miserably Duck whimpered.

"I don't really know what you want from me. I guess you just want to beat on someone for no reason like all you jock jerks do, well you know what? I am tired of it all and if that's what you want to do then fine, just go ahead and do it. I don't even care anymore."

Sam laughed. Well that was exactly what he was going to do. With that he took one step forward and reached his bulky right arm back, fist clenched. Sam knew that the hit would connect and hard because that's always what happened anytime he had the opportunity to strike. Just as Duck knew that he would not be able to avoid it because that was how his luck always went.

Both Sam and Duck were caught in their own swirling worlds, each trapped. Sam a product of extreme luck and Duck, the exact opposite. They were two opposing vortexes fighting against each other. Sam struck. It was hard in the jaw and Duck's head swished to the right very hard. His front right tooth came out, and went flying against the red brick wall. Sam laughed, drops of crimson blood falling from his hand. He had sliced his finger pretty badly on Duck's tooth, which was surprisingly bad luck for Sam, and something he wasn't used to.

Duck was reeling from the impact of the blow so he didn't see the next hit coming. It laid him clean against the wall and his knees buckled. He slid down to the ground and landed softly on his jean clad bottom. Sam wasted no time. He ran over immediately, intending to finish Duck off quickly.

Pulling his slender fist back he swung as hard as he could. It was a direct hit again. Duck's head struck the wall with a thud. In that instance a drop of blood trickled down from Sam's hand and into Duck's mouth. Duck could taste the bitter iron and he grimaced uncomfortably.

There was something else in that blood, though. There was luck. For the first time in his life Duck was able to get a taste of the luck that he was never given. He felt an energy flow through him and he tried right away to stand up. Still, Sam's hit was too much and he fell back down again.

Sam grabbed his collar and pulled him up by his shirt, intent on giving him a few more good blows. As Sam was about to hit with all his might Duck managed to move left a little bit, luck working in his favor for once in his life. You see, the blood was free and the luck was in it. It was no longer trapped in Sam's body but flowing in the air and in Duck's mouth and it knew Duck. It was meant for Duck.

Sam ended up punching the wall very hard. He pulled his hand back screaming and held it up above his Duck's head. He would pummel his head in, just bash straight down. The cut in Sam's finger was severe and blood flowed all over his Duck's face and into his mouth again. He was finally receiving all of the luck that he was supposed to have been given. He was, in essence, stealing it back from Sam even though Sam was unaware of what was happening.

In that moment. Duck felt something swell up inside him that he had never known before.

Duck reached back and with the full force of his spirit he struck Sam in the face. Sam recoiled fiercely, never having been hit, never having felt pain like this before, and stumbled backwards over the nearly empty bicycle rack. Landing headfirst on black asphalt, Sam was quite dazed. His cell phone fell out of his pocket and smashed against the ground, it's crystal face ruined.

Duck laughed for the first time since he was a young boy. It felt good to stand up. It felt good to not lose. What he didn't know was that his life was about to change for the better. Duck had finally gotten his luck back. For the first time ever.

Duck was happy. Happy and lucky.

END OF STORY