Mistakes Are Made

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I felt a bit safer in the dark, even though I was already so tired. The kind workers drove me to the apartment, and it was pretty nice. It had a furnished bathroom, a completely full living room, a nice small kitchen area, and a cute little island with two barstools shoved underneath. There was a small little television already hooked up, facing a couch propped up on a black dresser. It was bland, but I would be able to dress it up after a few months which left me partially satisfied. Growing up, I had an empty room covered with a whole lotta nothing. This is my own place, so I can make it reflect who I am however I want. The master bed had the largest floor space, everything else was about the same size. The other bedroom was a smidge smaller, with a teenier closet. It really was nice, it was very fresh. Im proud of myself for being able to afford it. I headed back out into the kitchen, slamming my things on the island with a grunt. I threw my keys down and listened to the loud jingle ring around the rooms, echoing back at me. I didn't bring much, so it wasn't too big of a hassle. I was trying to leave my past behind. I let out a long, tired sigh. It was about 9pm now, I'm glad I got here when I did.

"Fuck!" I yelled, my fist hitting the counter top slightly as I groaned, irritated.

I had forgotten about having an empty tank of gas. I cursed the world under my breath as I rummaged through my suitcase to find a bad to put my small, miscellaneous necessities in.

"Just in case," I murmured, grabbing my mace.

I grabbed the sweater I draped over the top of all my belongings, and threw everything into the back as I slung it over my arm with a sigh. I was overthinking it, I was just scaring myself. The chances of running into them was 1 in 10, was it really that dangerous at night? I couldn't think so. It's only dangerous if I think it is. I was debating going tomorrow morning, but knowing me I wouldn't be able to sleep with the fact that I had an empty tank of gas taunting my tired mind.

+++

The night was cold, and the sky was dark. The only thing illuminating me and my surroundings were the flickers of the full yellow street lamps, and neighboring stores logo lights. The splitting cold bit at the raw insides of my nose, making my scrunch my face in discomfort as I walked against the brick wall. I was so close, only a few more meters. It was probably warmer than I thought, and I was most likely just too used to be sitting in a hot and sweaty car for hours today. I was probably over-tired from traveling thousands of miles as-well. I was super jet lagged.

I arrived just at the corner when I felt my heart drop at the ear splitting screech of tires blaring down the street, and the bright white headlights of a nasty slick car bouncing off the walls and straight into my eyes. I jumped against the wall, away from the glow of any lamps or headlights so I wouldn't be seen by a single soul. I pulled my hood over my head, watching as an eerily long figure slid from the drivers seat, the silhouette completely black as they walked through the neon echo of the headlights. Whoever it was was tall, far pst six feet. I could tell that from here as I watched their figure compared to the flat car. Another person stepped from the back seat who was much shorter, but still seemed tall. Two more people came out, they seemed to never end. How many fucking people were in that car? They all seemed like extremely tall people, but the one that came from the drivers seat had my attention.

I heard husky drunk laughter break the silence of the night from their car, and I felt my eyes bug out of my head when the biggest one pulled a handgun from a holster. The gun was shining black at the lights hit it, making my stomach turn. No fucking way, it couldn't be them. Was it them? I had no idea. Just my luck too. Without taking my eyes off of them, I quietly dipped my sweaty hand into my purse as my chest vibrated with shaky breaths. I reached for my mace, my lungs feeling like they were beginning to fail when I realized the case was empty.

"Oh you're fucking shitting me." I whispered, my words a silent croak.

I frantically turned my head to peer into my bag, sweat beading up on my pale forehead. Of course my dumbass left it on the counter. I wanted to cry, wail my dumb little heart out. But after seeing how heavily armed they were, my body magnetized itself to the wall. My breathing quickened, and I felt my pulse drastically increase as I watched them stumble around with a gun in each hand. I should've listened to my gut and stayed the fuck home, but mistakes are made. That's inevitable. I need to start listening to my mind. The logical part of it. I slapped myself mentally, I felt myself getting colder but I couldn't bring my legs to move. I really tried, but I couldn't. I couldn't see their faces, so I had no idea who I really was. I could go home, but turning my back on them would be insanely stupid. They were so close.

I moved here for peace, not to live in fucking fear. I'm so stupid- I knew they could be around here sometimes. So why the hell did I pick that building? They must've come from a pub or something because they sounded and looked drinker than I had ever seen anybody before. Which made the fact that they were armed even scarier.

I decided hell with it. I just plugged myself into my headphones with music, glancing back to their glossy black car camouflaging with the pitch dark sky. I took a deep breath, and stupidly built up the courage to keep walking. I turned the corner and booked it to the gas station.

+++

I payed about 18 bucks for the can of gas, I didn't get that much. Now I just needed to figure out how to get back without getting myself into deeper shit than I was already in.

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