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“It would be such a crime to mess up such a pretty face. But that boyfriend of yours needs to cough up our money. Find him. Tell him we want what’s ours. Or the next time, I won’t be so kind.” The thug growls while he presses the blade even deeper into my skin, grazing it slightly. A tremble courses through me as I feel the burn of the blade and fear that I’m going to pass out cold. Just as I wonder if I’m going to begin to see my short twenty-seven-year life flash before my eyes as a sign of the beginning of my end, the pressure eases and the chill of the February evening wind sweeps through me. I dare not open my eyes.
Suddenly, my legs give way and my chest tightens painfully as though I have just run a marathon. Without warning, my legs give under me, my body sliding down the wall against which I have just been pinned. Tears pour down my cheeks as I think about how many times in the past three months I have been accosted. And it is all because of Grant.
I hold my head as I sob uncontrollably. I wish I had never laid eyes on him that evening at the coffee shop. Just before Thanksgiving last year, I kicked him out. A week later, the first thug had shown up as I was on my way to work one morning. At first, I had thought it was just a routine mugging until I realized he was not interested in my meager belongings but was more intent on delivering a verbal message.
“Tell Grant Spike wants to have a little chat with him, little lady.” My heart had hammered my chest with fear that morning. And that had been just the beginning.
I fish a piece of tissue out of my purse. I dab at my eyes as the tears subside. I know I need to get up and head home but I cannot trust my legs. I wonder if it would have been easier for me to have had my throat cut a few minutes ago. At least I wouldn’t have to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I struggle to my feet and lean against the wall for support. I look at the streetlight at the end of the alley, outlining the people who hurry to and fro. If only I had left work earlier. But then again, the time wouldn’t have made any difference. Spike would have been waiting regardless – as he had been the last few times he approached me. For the first time since this ordeal has begun, I wonder if I should consider getting some sort of protection for myself. But who am I kidding. I couldn’t afford it if my life depended on it, which, more and more, apparently it does. I’m screwed.
What else is new?
I take a deep breath and pull my jacket around me even closer. Just like that, five years of a job I really like have come to an end. That is the story of my life – gloom and doom.
I take another bolstering breath before taking a tentative step. I soon find myself back on the main street. People continue to move past me, barely glancing at my disheveled state. If I collapse on the pavement, I know they'll just step over me and keep going. Such is life.
I join the pedestrians and start to move. I trust I’m safe, especially since Spike himself had come calling this evening. But I’ve had enough. They know where I live if they turn up at my former job and don’t find me. I can’t stay at the apartment.
Weak tears fill my eyes once more.
I look around as panic sweeps over me. I come to an abrupt stop as I look at a pretty girl with swirling dark hair and huge green eyes. As the girl stares at me, I wonder what could have happened to cause the droop to her full lips. It is not until she pulls her jacket around her at the same time I do that I realize she is me. I feel as though someone punched me in the gut. I all but run along the pavement, not caring if I bump into anyone. I find a little café a few blocks from my apartment and duck into a corner booth. I dig into my purse for my phone and call the only person I can think of – My best friend. She picks up on the second ring.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
“Mich? I—I—”
Without warning, the tears come pouring out and I begin to sob.
“Sidney? Where are you?”
I compose myself just enough to give her my location before ending the call. I place my head in my hands as silent sobs wrack my frame. It’s just too much. I have bills to pay. The job market in my field is a stingy one, too. What on earth am I going to do?
I don’t know how long I sit there before I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder. I lift my wet face to find Michelle slipping into the booth in front of me. A fresh wave of tears roll in and I start to tremble.
“What’s wrong, Sid?” She looks at me, worry etched on her face.
I sniff a few times. “I was fired today.”
“What! What happened?”
I sigh. “These loan sharks that Grant owes keep coming to me and the company is uncomfortable with them lurking around. But I’m not to worry,” my tone is laced with sarcasm, “they’ll give me a glowing recommendation and pay in lieu of notice if I resign quietly. It’s been months, Michelle. Months! I can’t keep looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. And now this. What am I gonna do?”
I twirl the bit of tissue I hold between my fingers, shredding it to pieces.
Michelle gives me an encouraging smile, reaches out, and squeezes my hand lightly. “Well, the first thing you’re going to do is stay at my place tonight. I’m in a slow zone between projects anyway, so I could use the company. Let’s go.”
I follow her out of the café, happy that I don’t have to think anymore. I follow her lead as we hop on a bus and cross the city. I close my eyes and lean against the window. The attack combined with the emotional upheaval I’m experiencing has given me a pounding migraine. I feel sick to my stomach as well. It’s as though the stress of the past months is finally catching up with me. I shuffle along behind Michelle when we get off the bus. I feel dead on my feet by the time we walk up the two flights of stairs to her place. The two-bedroom flat has always been a safe space for me since I met Michelle almost ten years ago. She had come into the restaurant I was working in one morning at the start of my shift. Her bright face and sweet personality had pulled me to her, and before I knew it, I was pouring out my woes into her ear. She has been my confidante and shoulder to lean on ever since.
I have a quick shower and slip into the T-shirt Michelle has left for me in the guestroom. I come out to warm food and a cup of tea. I take a sip of the soothing brew and sigh. “This is just what I need to get this headache to die.”
“I have painkillers if you want them.”
“I should be fine.”
I close my eyes and sigh. “I wish I’d never laid eyes on Grant, Michelle.”
“Don’t we all. But we’re hopeless romantics and suckers for a handsome fella.”
“Yes. But who lets their boyfriend move in after just five months of dating?”
