𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐐𝐮𝐨

four.

The train back home to Queens was as uneventful as the first one into Manhattan. Although, I was completely unnerved and anxious the entirety of the trip. Being so on edge, everyone's conversations seemed to grab my attention, making me eavesdrop into what they were all talking about; yet nothing to be suspicious of.

The station was pretty busy given that it was the middle of the day, swarms of people pushing and shoving their way through onto the train or towards the exits. It was loud, hundred of peoples footsteps echoing through the subway mixing with a myriad of boring and mundane conversations.

Suddenly a high pitched shriek resounded above the noise, making my head flick towards where it came from. Unsurprised (because this is Queens after all), I saw a woman screaming towards two men running up the stair case with her purse.

My first thought was, why the fuck would anyone openly showcase a Louis Vuitton purse in the middle of Queens. My second thought was 'I need to stop them'. Surprised at myself for running through the crowds I called out to the woman that I would try and stop them before I instinctively jumped up on the handrail to avoid the crowds. This shocked me more than the people around me because not only was my balance usually terrible, but I was now running on a tiny pole.

I don't know what made me think this would have been a good idea, or what made me think it was even possible but after getting to the street quickly I saw the two men eventually stop running and blend into the walking crowds.

I caught up to them quickly as they ducked into a side alley, rummaging through the purse and throwing the 'non valuable' items to the ground; a lipstick, a book, you know, the stuff robbers wouldn't be interested in.

They didn't notice me standing at the end until I nervously cleared my throat for them to pay attention. They laughed, hastily pushed money from her wallet into their pockets and told me to 'run along now kid' which was patronising being 21.

"You want to give that lady her purse back or will I have to?" I said, feeling like a completely different person standing up to criminals in the flesh. Again, I don't know why the fuck I was doing this in the first place but I felt this overwhelming urge to help that woman.

"I said, run along now kid," one of the men threatened in his thick New Yorker accent; I'm going to safely assume he's born and bred in Queens. He then pulled a switchblade from his jacket pocket and gripped it tightly in his fist.

"Look, we don't need the violence we can uh, we can just go our seperate ways. I'll take the purse and you guys can leave without the police ever knowing what happened in the first place," I said swallowing harshly from the current lack of saliva in my mouth being so nervous.

What the fuck am I still doing here? I should run. They told me to leave, I should leave. Any other day I would flinch if these same guys even so much as looked at me from across the street.

"The police? Aw darlin' what are you gonna say to them when you're missing your tongue?" He said holding the knife towards me and stepping closer. His friend dumped the purse on the ground and glared at me, telling the man brandishing the knife, to 'shut her the fuck up'.

Lashing towards me I stepped swiftly to the side, spinning around to face him as he swung his arm out to stab me; which again I dodged. I heard the second guy run up behind me and I jumped off to the side, expecting to slam into the brick wall beside me as he collided with his friend.

My expectations were only half true.

Yes, the knife guy collided with his friend and accidentally stabbed him in the arm.

No, I did not slam into the wall. Instead, my body was at least a foot off the ground with my back against the bricks, my hands propping me up against the cold building.