The Fox and The Chicken

Chapter 7

As the days became weeks, her anxiety rose. Her actions were becoming almost paranoid now. She was constantly fighting with almost violent urges to look over her shoulder. Her coworkers had started to avoid her because it felt like she had a dark cloud over her head.

Travis kept reminding her that it would be fine but she wasn't taking it.

"Train incoming to station six. Westbound for..."

Lisa didn't care where the train was headed just that it would take her far away from this city. Away from the animals here, away from the police. Away from her worries.

She had done her best to limit Travis' knowledge of her plans. He would have stopped her no matter what.

She let out a hefty sigh and looked down the length of the car. It was fairly empty, exactly how she wanted it. She chose a time that wouldn't be too conspicuous. It was later in the day, the work and diner rush being over with. And now it was just the few stray stragglers that had business later than the rest of the world.

Lisa leaned back in her seat. Clutching the strap of her bag tightly in her hands. Wielding it as someone more religious might would hold their holy symbol.

The only things she needed were in this one bag.

She didn't want to leave behind the entire apartment but she had no choice. Not enough time to go through and move it all.

She closed her eyes, a picture of the contents of her bag laid out before her.

Three outfits with one change of shoes

A small pack of feminine hygiene products

A few protein bars, so that she could snack on the train and not stop for food until she was well outside of the city.

And her most important possessions...

The photo of him.

Her most valued and dangerous possession. The one damning thing in her life. If the police caught her with this, it would surely uncover who she was. And there was no doubt in her head that she would be ridiculed and vilified for having it.

They would see it as her having a keepsake of the man she killed. A sick and twisted animal with no respect for the dead.

Henry's photo had been carefully hidden behind a stock photo of a smiling couple of foxes. Then wrapped in a scarf and tucked under a false bottom in her bag.

A few hours later the train came to a stop and she climbed off. Dark shadows played across the station. A bench with a few missing slats sat beside an overrun ashtray. Or had it once been a potted plant?

She sighed and moved forward keeping one hand tightly wrapped around her bag. The other with easy access to her pepper spray.

The noises of the city drowned out any footsteps he had made.

A run down man with ragged clothing snatched her bag, dragging it off her shoulder.

"Let go!" She screamed. Fear flooding her already overworked brain. A sudden influx of emotions running into her.

'No...nono...nonono'

She tugged on the bag almost forgetting her pepper spray.

Her hand fumbled as the man pulled with all his might.

"Don't take him away from me again!" She yelled as her hand grasped the cylinder firmly.

The man seemed caught off guard for a moment but didn't loosen his grip.

She got her spray out in time to swipe him across the chest. The aerosol made him cough and choke.

Lisa yanked on the bag one good time and the strap ripped. Spilling the bag to the ground between them. She dove for it as did the man.

He had been quicker and made off with her bag before she could get to her feet again.

She choked back sobs as she kept walking. Her only supplies and Henry were now lost forever. She had no hopes of finding that man. Luckily she hadn't put her wallet or phone in the bag so it's not as bad as it could be. But her brain said otherwise.

Cut....

The voice demanded.

She shook her head. Sending the dreadful voice to the back of her mind.

Cut....

It whispered to her.

No, I won't listen to you. She said to herself.

She needed a distraction and quick. She began to look at the shops around her. Most were closed or closing. A sigh escaped her as she came across a small food vendor.

It looked like a little hole in the wall kind of place. The perfect thing to stop her from spiraling.

Lisa ducked into the shop and was greeted with a friendly welcome! She stood before the counter and looked at the menu without seeing it.

"What can I get for ya?" The man behind the counter asked.

"What's good?" She asked quickly, her anxious brain not wanting to chill out long enough for her to properly understand the words in front of her.

"Everything's good. We got meat..."

"No meat, please. I'm vegetarian." She rattled off faster than she could catch. Years of this habitat showing off.

"What kind of carnivore doesn't eat meat?" The man asked bewildered.

"Actually foxes are omnivores so we can eat meat or fruits and veggies." She popped off. Starting to get irritated at this stranger for judging her.

"I'll take whatever vegetable dish you have please." The man begrudgingly took her money and hobbled off to make her food, all the while complaining to himself about how the younger generation was full of crap for denying their true nature.

Lisa sat down at a table and pulled her phone out. She thought about all the memories she'd have to get rid of.

After ignoring the multiple missed calls and texts from Travis. She began to look through all of her old photos. The past few months had been filled with wonderful moments with Travis and now she had to forget him. She'd never truly would. Considering how long she had kept Henry's memory going.

Thinking of how she lost his physical picture brought her to tears. She couldn't get a new one. Why would some stranger print off a picture of a murder victim? Especially a young woman fox, a similar description to the one who reportedly killed him.

A flurry of emotions ran through her at this moment.

Anger.

Hate.

Love.

Sadness.

Self-loathing.

Fear.

Cut...

Her inner thoughts yelled at her.

Do it. Cut now. You NEED it.

She shook her head and looked over towards the kitchen. The man has his back to her.

Cut.

It repeated louder and louder. Her fingers trembled and her legs burned. The memories of the scars she'd made catching fire and setting ablaze to her.

She began to sweat.

Panic attack. She thought. But she wasn't sure where to start to keep it away.

Her phone shook so violently in her hand that it fell to the table. She was going to lose this battle.

Lisa glanced around looking for anything resembling a knife. No good. Her fingers stood out to her. She picked up her phone, tucking it back into her pocket.

If she had no knife why not scratch?