I feel so nauseated. This was nothing new for me. For the past six months, I have cultivated the habit of surviving on one heavy meal. While I did have the occasional coffee and energy drinks during the day, the night was the time when I actually ate something solid. There's this one store that was open 24 hours a day, round the clock, and I had become a regular of sorts over the past few months. The best part was that it was very close to the campus and, hence, easy to reach.
It was a cold winter night, with thick clouds of fog narrowing any chance of visibility over five meters. The weather has remained the same for the past few weeks. Tonight almost felt better than most other nights. I could feel the cold reach my exposed feet, which were donning my favorite type of footwear, clogs. While I was comfortable in the thick winter trousers and a thick sweatshirt, the heavy contrast made my feet feel like they were freezing.
I could see the faint light from the street lights illuminated by the essential smog that we traditionally have in this area of the city. I mean, we weren't exactly close to the city; most of the area was just field lands and thick shrubbery, but we weren't necessarily far either. The roads were practically empty, with the occasional truck or two, which was to be expected in the middle of the night.
Today's meal consisted of a bottle of cola, some packets of chips, two chocolate bars, and two cups of noodles. A balanced diet curated with sweet flavors of the kitchens of the heavens or as others call it, the factories where processed food came from. Luckily for me, I had a backpack to carry my meal, so I did not waste an extra penny at the store for an additional dignified plastic bag. Some could say I was being environmentally conscious, but who was I kidding? I don't really care for the long term of such things; everything is in the here and now.
There was this one spot by the road that remained completely dark and was basically my usual spot for a quick stop. I pulled out my pack of cigarettes and lit one in the solace of the moonless night sky and the peaceful silence propagating around me. Call it whatever you want, but this was my way of dealing with my anxiety, or this is something I usually tell myself anyway. A warm soup of smoke and carcinogenic fumes was the best way of heating your body up in these harsh winter conditions; second best was maybe falling behind alcohol.
While I remained content, watching the smoke release and becoming indistinguishable from the ghastly smog that wrapped me, I heard footsteps racing towards me. Before I could even react, I had this person, faintly resembling the build of a girl, rushing into my chest and smashing into my body. Both of us immediately fall and tumble, me losing my cigarette in the process, but my backpack takes most of the brunt of the fall. She was luckier; she used my body as a human shield and remained unscathed.
Now, I am a very timid person. I didn't like to interfere with strangers, and even if it was more of a discomfort to me, I didn't believe in confrontation and had no intentions of confronting this person either. I just tried to recover from the fall, thanking my lucky stars that there weren't rocks, broken glass, or shit that was sharp, uncomfortable, or was literally poop on the ground. I steadied myself as I got up and offered her my hand as a sign of help; it was merely instinctive, and I still cannot answer why I did that.
She reciprocated by reaching out to me, but instantly dragged me alongside her and ran behind some shrubbery nearby. If I had to take a guess, I think she was trying to hide from something or someone. Noticing that both of us weren't properly hidden by the foliage, she pulled me closer to hear, to the point where I could feel her heavy breathing on my face. She instructed me to duck, and again, instinctively, I just followed her.
My heart was racing at this point, and a sense of panic and confusion started to kick in. I wanted to leave, go back to my room, and eat my cup of noodles and chips in peace, but here I was, stuck with this stranger. Before I could ask her anything, she shushed me and placed her hand over my mouth. And while I remained puzzled here, I heard the sounds of a few men talking nearby.
There were two men that I could see in our vicinity. Even with all the fog covering us, the silhouettes of these people were still visible.
"Did we miss her?" I heard a scruffy voice ask.
"Maybe. This was the perfect opportunity, though," replied another.
"You go look that way; I'll look this way. Remember to dose her as soon as you find her and do not fuck around with her; I don't want any damage to our goods this time." said in the first voice.
"She ain't my type." laughed away the second voice.
Saying so, these two silhouettes disappeared, presumably in different directions, and if my mind was working right, they were searching for this girl that I was trapped with. Suddenly, my heart started to race harder than ever before as I heard it thumping against my chest. There was an intense pain near my chest cavity, followed by a feeling of breathlessness. My palms were trembling, and I could feel droplets of sweat trickle down my neck and my face, even in this intense cold.
My vision seemed to blur, or, to be more clear, my eyes started to tear up as my body started to tremble. My breathlessness grew to be more intense, to the point where I had to gasp for air from my mouth. I think I was starting to have a panic attack. While all of this was happening, my mind remained blank; I couldn't make sense of anything except an intense sense of meaningless fear. I remained petrified in my helpless state in the grasp of this woman when suddenly, I felt a hand rub at my back, almost soothingly.
The girl was now directly looking into my eyes, her hands now off of my mouth, and signaling to take deep breaths. I looked at her and followed her moments—a deep breath in and a deep breath out. The girl, who initially seemed to be extremely afraid and was almost in a hurry to escape from here, now looked calm and composed. She had a petite build, almost half a foot shorter than me, a baby-like round face, small yet intensely dark eyes, a small pointy nose, and dark lips. Her face was flushed with color and sweat; she had a burning pink face. She had black hair sprinkled with a couple of whites around the edges that sat around her shoulders. Overall, she looked about my age. And more importantly, she helped calm me down.
We waited and watched in the darkness and silence for a while, almost uncomfortably close to one another, staring at the path that lay ahead of us in anticipation of any further trouble. After what seemed like an eternity, we got up again and slowly stretched our limbs, which were now slightly sore from having been perched like a frog in the bushes. She wore a gray denim jacket over what looked like cargo pants and pulled out something very familiar to me. A pack of cigarettes.
As she tapped around her numerous pockets frantically in search of something, I pulled out my lighter and offered to light her cigarette. After taking her first drag in, she offered me a cigarette, something I very much needed and appreciated. Both of us stood in the darkness in a monotonous silence, burning away at our lungs, but I was calm enough to make the move and break the silence.
"What was that?" I asked her, trying my best not to sound pissed or agitated.
"Don't know. I noticed them follow me for a while. They didn't look like great people. I heard them catcall, and I suddenly noticed them picking up pace and closing their distance on me. That's when I decided to make a run and hide away."
She looked content with her answer, as if it cleared up everything, but I also gave her the benefit of the doubt, as tonight's events might not be something she intends to remember.
"And why did you think that hiding with me was a safer option?" I asked quizzically.
"Was it not?" she questioned back very assuredly.
"I guess it was," I conceded, almost thankfully.
"I know you, Sunny. I study in your class," she said out of nowhere.
"Oh, sorry, I don't recognize you; I don't really know most people from our class," I admitted in a sheepish manner.
"It's fine," she replied, and she continued, "I am Alex, by the way."
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Catalyst | ONC 2024
Fiction généraleLike every other day, Sunny is out walking back from the 24/7 store with some midnight snacks and cola. While he was lost in his daily tradition of walking in the chilly nights with no thoughts, he stops midway in a secluded dark area and lights up...