Empowered

Chapter One: Coffee. Cream, Two Sugars and a Dash of Disaster

Katrina

 

FLIRTIN’ WITH DISASTER. It’s a song by Molly Hatchet. 1979, if I’m correct. It’s all about a guy who’s in his car going too fast; “flirting” with an accident, cause he’s down on his luck, outta money, and YOLO but with more of a seventies vibe to it. See, that saying is pretty much the same as, Skating On Thin Ice or Up a Blind Alley. So if I were going to describe a situation in which it would be metaphorical, I could use those words instead. But I literally flirted with disaster. Like, disaster could not have been more gorgeous than the guy standing in front me, in line at the local coffee shop.

So let me just make something clear, Disaster winked at me first. (Yup, I will put it on my resume, Disaster flirted with Katrina Mason on one occasion. Badass.) Disaster did not only stand out because he was god-like, Oh no. Disaster had blue hair. Electric-Neon Blue hair that went just past his ears. He looked a little older than me, maybe eighteen. Dark green eyes. Fate sent me a present. Clearly.

Now, I don't normally reach out and ask a hot guy for his number. I’m not shy but I dont “ask guys out”. I don’t do dances that don't have live bands and only feature teens grinding each other. I would never havefollowed a guy out of a coffee shop, but the second I paid for my latte I bolted out the door, seconds after his shooting a wink my way and exiting.

I saw him a little ways up the block, walking away, his back to me. He was wearing jeans (his butt, Ohsweetgoodness, his ass) and a leather jacket, one hand tucked in his pocket other holding a coffee cup. I can honestly say that I have no idea what came over me. I followed him. Oh, he knew I was behind him. He didn't say anything, he just made sharp turns and went in a circle once, probably enjoying this. He probably gets lunatic seventeen year-olds stalking him on a daily basis.

I had finally won the go-up-and-talk-to-him vs. just-run fight in my mind and was gonna catch up and tap his shoulder when he turned another corner. I turned as well and found myself in an alley. Huh. Whaddya know. Up a Blind Alley fit here too.

Looking in front of me, I saw yet another corner. He must have turned again.

Something around that corner was calling me, my very essence. I must be crazy I thought, but I turned the corner anyways. Ten feet away, dead end. He was nowhere to be seen. What the hell? Where did he go? I walked forward five feet and inspected the wall, looking to see if there were ledges to climb on or a fake brick that might lead to a door (it’s possible okay?).

I saw a glint, maybe something metal, maybe a doorknob. I took one step forward, extending a hand to see what it was, and felt my body pulled through the wall. Then there was darkness.