His fist connected with my lower jaw, throwing my head back several feet from the impact.​ I didn’t feel pain as such but more of a huge disturbance, a very sudden and very real shock. I could feel something in my mouth, a tooth maybe, or part of one; I spat it out, I wasn’t going to need that anymore. My assailant stood in front of me, his hands by his side and a look of disbelief on his face. He had just thrown the hardest punch he had and, for some unknown reason, I was still standing. I’m sure that neither of us expected that. I’d been hit before but never with so much force and never with so little warning; I didn’t know why I hadn't fallen. If I’d had my mouth open it would have broken my jaw for sure; I wasn’t sure that my jaw wasn't broken, the adrenaline that results from such trauma doesn’t always allow the damage to be revealed for some time. He was stood there, looking at me. The colour was starting to drain from his face and the voices of his friends that had, until a few seconds ago been loud and eager, were now hesitant and hushed. I looked over to them; I was outnumbered 3 to 1. I knew that there was only one thing that I could do that was going to stop me getting a severe beating and it was something that I really didn’t want to happen. ‘This is not a good day for you.’ I said.  And with that, I swallowed hard and took a step forwards.

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