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Come With Me

I walked down Somerset Street, walking to the sidewalk to get to the intersection. Seeing cars moving into the corner or to my hometown wasn't clear. I stopped at the stop light and noticed my cousin standing in this gloomy fog with his friend. I didn't feel like waving hello to my cousin since my dad kicked him out of the house because he had been drinking and coming in late at night. My dad did the right thing to kick him out because I didn't want to deal with his attitude towards me. I don't even know how one drink can affect your mood. When the green light turned red, it was my turn to cross. I put on my hoodie so my cousin wouldn't recognize me, and it worked for only a day. I mean, I hope I won't see him again. I turned right toward Bellview Road and headed straight for about fifteen minutes until I reached the stop light. As I made it to the stop light, a student awaited the bus to college. I think I recognize them. Well, most of them, since I didn't graduate high school with my fellow students. I know one girl I had in class since middle school; I can't believe she is still the same height but manages to go to school daily. It is hard for me to see my old friend since I never said goodbye, but perhaps it's best to remain in the shadow where no one can see me. Gosh, I sound more emo than Batman. Then, I made a left, walking straight to the intersection at Route 22, and the most challenging part was crossing the roads. My parents always tell me never to walk to meetings alone because I am only a kid. However, I have traveled the intersection since after-school practice with my cross-country team. After training, we crossed the corner to the Wawa gas station. I usually get a large Pepsi with snacks such as Snickerdoodles and Cheetos, and my friend would buy an energy drink or something with extra sugar. I miss the good old days. I managed to cross the road safely without getting myself in danger, but it seemed I could do things myself. Then, I kept walking to the corner of the intersection, which would lead me toward Walmart. It took me around ten minutes to get to the store, but my leg couldn't handle this much pressure on hiking the hill where Walmart is located. Finally, I made it to Walmart. I gasped for air, and my stomach was feeling sick from walking. My head started feeling oozy because I needed some sugar in my bloodline. I dragged my legs to the garden section to enter the end of the aisle. Once I got inside, I took a deep breath and put on a big smile, saying, "Hello, beauty." I spoke. I turned right toward the soap and makeup aisle, passing through a group of Hispanics trying to purchase some makeup design and an expensive television set. Usually, there are more Hispanics who shop here than whites. I'm not being racist. It is just a town where many migrant families are Hispanic shopped in this location. Seeing more Latinos than whites is weird, but I guess this location is closer to shopping than the one in Piscataway. I walked for almost a minute until I stopped by the video game section. I was amazed to see many video games I hadn't played before, but it made me want to buy them more. I always wanted to play a PS4 PlayStation, but it cost around three hundred dollars. I mean, I would buy the PlayStation. It's just that I don't own my TV sets, so I don't know where I would put my PS4 to play. I gasped for a second when I saw a game called "The Last of Us Part 2." I have been dying to play this game since it was released, but somehow, many people criticized that it is way off-topic with the plot and the character's objective. I agree with the criticism, but I still want to try this game. After I kneeled, staring at the glass protecting the game, a worker came by and began looking at me. I didn't ask what the problem was until this worker recognized me, and I recognized him, too. I stood up, kneeled, and looked directly toward the worker. My head began to shiver as I realized my old nemesis worked here. His name was Hamza. A Pakistani bully who had been treating me like an asshole since elementary school. I knew that I would one day see him again after high school. He used to be skinny, but somehow, it looks like he gained weight a little and grew a mustache more rapidly than my older brother. He looked at me with jealousy and asked me how I was doing. I didn't want to respond; I tried to be nice since I was done pretending to be mean to protect myself from Hamza. I acted normal when speaking to him, but he had worked like the same person since middle school. Hamza questioned me about what I was doing there, so I told him I was here shopping for clothes for my friend. He bought it at first, but then he asked where your brother was. I lied to him and said he was at home sleeping. I questioned him why he would want to know where he was. I spoke. Because I want to be your brother's friend, he said. I wouldn't let him be my friend, my brother, because I knew he had done this before and, hell, do anything to get me breaking down to the point where I was vulnerable around him. I told him to go fuck himself and go back to work, he then told me that he would follow me once I got out of the store, but he felt like he was bluffing in his word. I got closer to him and said, "You ain't got what it takes to take down a girl," I said. He then chuckled and looked around to see nobody was watching our conversation. Until he looked back at me and dragged me toward the glass where the game was standing. My whole body moved with his hand on my front chest as I yelped for help, but he covered my mouth from being caught. He then calmly touched my hair and cheek as if he wanted to kiss me.I refused to let that happen, but I was trapped in his illusion. He told me, " You know I have always had a crush on you since elementary school. the only purpose I tortured you was to make you more vulnerable each day of school, and now there isn't no teacher to help you." He said threateningly.

I struggled to resist, but I told him, "You know you never changed the way you behave, but at least take a hit since you've wanted to do it since I got many detentions since middle school." I spoke.

Hamza said, " I know high school wasn't the time I had the chance to pick on you, but you should've killed yourself by the time I transferred to your financial class in our junior year." He spoke.

I laughed it off for a second and began to argue that he was nothing but hatred toward me and that one day, he would suffer the shame he did to me and others he bullied in the past. He chuckled with a sinister smile and was about to lay his lip on me. I try to escape, but I close my eyes, and my lip starts to get in touch with his lip until a giant TV screen knocks Hamza out of my body. Hamza thuds hard toward the ground floor, knocking himself unconscious without the customer's attention. I immediately gasped as I turned around; Emma had saved my life. I was in shock to see her knocking out Hamza. She saved my life. As she approached me, she asked if I was okay, and I shook my head, nodding that I was alright without blurting out a word. I ask her what she is doing here. And she responded to save someone's life. I think she wasn't here for that, but thank God she was here at the right moment. Looking at her red lip, I was stunned to see her face lying close to me. Emma then tried to get my attention. My head began to break as my anxiety forced me to run away. She grabbed my hand as we started to run out of the aisle where I was having a confrontation with Hamza. I don't think Hamza would forget about this, but Emma seemed she didn't care. We ran past many customers with their shopping carts filled with merchandise and made a right turn to go straight toward the front. As we exited from inside, we breathed and tried calming ourselves down. Emma looked at me with her eyes cleaner than mine; she asked if I was okay since Hamza laid his hand on me. I paused briefly and then looked at her, but she didn't notice. Emma shook me, and I rapidly moved in fear. Emma tried to calm me down, but I was emotionally distressed. Emma called out my name, "Lilia!" Lilia!" Lilia!" she said. After the third time, she called out my name, I had been concentrating on Emma's voice calling out my name. She looked tired but worried about me. I was also concerned with Emma. Emma was glad I heard her, so she hugged me. Her shoulder was soft as a pillow as I touched her right side. Her hair was straight with curls, which made me wanna feel her hair. As I opened my eyes, I saw Hamza unconscious with the security right next to him; he looked straight at me and then ran toward me with the security following him. I yelled at Emma, warning her. She turned her head around for a quick minute, and she grabbed my hand as I ran toward the parking lot with Emma. Two security guards were running with him; I felt like I would serve some time for assault on a worker. We ran non-stop until Emma and I stopped at the parking lot's last section close to the exit. We both took a breath while Emma was opening her car. Her car wasn't elegant; she got it from a garage sale, where it was cheaper. As I waited outside while Emma was trying to get the car started, Hamza was ahead of me until he saw me standing there. He and the security stopped me until Emma began the engine and quickly told me to be in the front seat with her. Her front window was down, and she looked at me desperately to escape, but I wasn't sure if I would want to go with her or accept my faith. She begged me to get in, but I was scared for the moment of what just happened; my head began to be stressed out along with the anxiety. I look at her with guilt, but Emma can tell I am scared, just like her. She told me, "Come with me," She said. As she held her hand in front of me, I stared directly at where her hand was positioned. I took a second to think as Hamza called out my name. I rush to the car's front door, and Emma pushes hard on the pedal without moving backward. Instead, she moved forward and made a right toward the exit. We immediately left before Hamza and the security would catch us. As we entered the intersection, I asked Emma where we were going, and she said, "We're going to my place; you'll probably need some rest before we can start talking, " she said. Emma drove past the Cinemark, turning left toward the mountain where she lived.