I don’t think the fight went on for very long. I was disappointed when they stopped getting up. It had been too easy. It had been far too easy! I was not ready for it all to be over yet. My heart was thumping in my chest with exhilaration, and I wanted more! I kicked one of them a couple of times, hoping it might incite him to get up, but all I got out of him was a muffled groan. They were all much larger than me, I noted with fierce pleasure as I bent and retrieved my sodden wallet from the ground.
It took me another moment before I remembered why I had been in the alley in the first place. I looked up sharply but, in all the turmoil and disorder, the woman had fled. The alley was quiet and deserted once more, save for the soft whisper of the falling rain. I’d saved her from being mugged or raped, or worse. She had escaped. I’d saved her from her own folly at running deep into one of Budapest’s dark, deserted side streets — the predatory silence of a sordid, greedy night.
In that moment I didn’t care that I was still without answers. And I have to say, I still can’t find it in myself to care. They were no match for me! Those five large men, no doubt professional thieves, muggers and pickpockets — bulging with brute muscle and brimming with cowardly weapons. The euphoria of it, like rediscovering some old hobby that you had once taken such pleasure in, and finding your skill not at all diminished by time. Even now, back in the haven of my apartment, my senses are all tingling with a thrilling, heightened awareness. This has been, I am sure, one of the best evenings of my life. I wish I could do it over again every night!
1st September
What I wrote in this journal three days ago… upsets me. It really scares me. I wish I was someone else. I wish I could be some other person. When I woke up the next morning, sprawled on my bed, my head was throbbing dully, the pillow was spotted with dark blood, but I still felt exhilarated as I showered and dressed. Exhilaration for some minutes before the fear. Fear that got more intense until I cringed just to see myself in the mirror. What kind of a thing are you anyway? It wasn’t the fight itself that scared me; it was the fact that I hadn’t really held back. It had gone beyond mere self-defence, somehow. And… I couldn’t remember all of it… too clearly. I didn’t use any weapons, though, did I? Only my hands, and how much damage can be done with them? I didn’t kill anyone.
I hid in my apartment for the next two days, waiting, waiting for any news. I checked the Hungarian news on the internet and had local papers brought up to me from the shop below, opening the door a mere crack to snatch the papers from the boy and thrust the money at him. There has been no mention of any back street murders, which surely there would have been had any of the muggers not survived. So perhaps I am overreacting. No one died, so what’s to be so upset about? Night-time crime will be rife in any capital city. All I really did was take five of those criminals out of action for a while. And they attacked me first anyway. Apart from feeding the fish, once I remember where they are, my life has no purpose at the moment. Perhaps the sensible thing to do would be to go out every night and seek out such criminals.
I know it sounds a bit alarming, but isn’t that what the superheroes do? The superheroes that children so love to read about — Superman and Spiderman and the rest of them. They have the means to take the law into their own hands to protect people, to save them. I like that. I could do that. I don’t need sleep and food in the same way that other people do. I could be a superhero.
I can imagine the headlines now: ‘Night-Time Crime in Budapest Mysteriously Drops by 80 %!’ I would very much like to do it. But I’m not naive. I know what would happen. The police would view me as a criminal too — after all, I would be attacking people. I can’t risk the police finding me. They wouldn’t understand that I was only doing it to keep people safe. All they would see was this crazy man who went out late at night looking for people to beat up. I can’t have that. Sadly, the community will just have to do without me.
What happened three days ago was bad enough, for I wasn’t discreet at all. Once I was sure I wouldn’t get any more fun out of my attackers, I ran through the streets to the metro station, jumping and whooping and yelling in my euphoria. God, what craziness — the police might have seen me. They might have arrested me. If there was anyone else in my carriage on the metro, they must have been appalled at the sight of me — this wild-eyed, dripping wet madman with blood running down my face and crusted in my hair; and I had probably still been sucking it from my teeth and gums. Bloody, bloody stupid thing to do.
But at least I saved the mystery woman. I gave her the diversion she needed to escape. But how to find her again? Budapest is a large city, and she could be anywhere. She might not even live here at all; she could be anywhere in Hungary. It was the most extraordinary bad luck that those thugs should have attacked at that moment. She knew me. I know she did. But with no name, no address, no personal details of any kind, I have no way of contacting her. All I can do is hope that I might stumble into her again; but really, in a city of this size, it was unlikely enough to happen once let alone a second time. It puzzles me, though — I mean, who was she? She couldn’t have been a relative. A relative would have greeted me no matter how annoyed they might have been about my not feeding their fish. They would have greeted me even if only to berate me. I don’t know; I don’t know. Maybe she was, after all, just a crazy woman. God knows, there are plenty of those about.
2nd September
There is no denying it any more. I have been here like this, waiting for family or friends or colleagues or someone to turn up, for almost a month now. But no one has come, and I admit I am beginning to feel the pinch of loneliness. Though I hate to admit it, I do think there is a very real possibility that… no one is coming back. I have only just moved here myself. Perhaps I was going to send a forwarding address to my friends and relatives once I got settled in, but lost my memory before I could do so? Perhaps I really don’t know anyone here in the city. How long can I let this go on for?
I spent several hours today wandering round Budapest asking people if they had the time. I just wanted them to see me. I just wanted to actually talk to someone. But the exchanges could never go on for too long, of course, because someone would be bound to ask me something about myself that I could not answer, and I know I would panic and probably just start running back here. People wouldn’t like that. It’s not normal. I wish I could get a child from somewhere. Children don’t ask awkward personal questions like that. They’re not interested in where you’ve come from or what you did before this moment.
I like going to the park to watch them play. There is nothing inappropriate in it — nothing perverted or depraved. I just like watching. They’re so… new and unspoiled. They’re so trusting and naive and beautiful. The world hasn’t had a chance to ruin them yet. But it doesn’t look right for me to stand there, alone, staring at them for hours. It makes the mothers nervous, despite my expensive clothes and immaculate appearance. I suppose they don’t think it natural for a man to be stood there, just staring, for so long; so if I go again, I think I must buy a cheap pushchair or something to stand there with, and then everyone will assume I am simply keeping an eye on my own child. I admit that I would very much like to take one of those kids. But I would never act on this. I can’t abide criminals, and it’s not right to take other people’s children. I would never do something like that. I just hope that my own family, my own friends, will turn up soon. If there’s really no one here, then I need to find someone else to talk to.