Brutality // Ashton Irwin

ONE

Amarie:

I sigh into the stale January air, releasing a visible cloud of breath into the sky. Lana Del Rey is softly playing in my ears, and I adjust one of the earbuds.

I continue down the sidewalk, only a mile or so from my small house in Baltimore, Maryland.

It's already freezing out, but a small breeze causes my shivering to increase, and I pull the sleeves of my jacket down to cover my almost numb hands.

I begin to grow paranoid, as I do every night whilst walking home after a late night out. Nothing out of the ordinary has ever happened to me, and I live in a lovely neighborhood with fairly decent neighbors. I can't really say much about my neighbors, however, as I rarely make any sort of social contact with them. I find speaking with strangers extremely awkward and uncomfortable, even if I've lived across from them for years. I'm very shy, to be frank.

I tug an earbud from my ear, as the nagging feeling of someone's eyes on me grows more prominent.

My eyes dart over my suburban surroundings as I hear a low rustling sound, causing me to jump and rip my other earbud out.

I stand completely still, listening for anything that could indicate someone was watching me.

I hear the rustling again, and my head snaps in the direction of the terror-inducing sound.

I suck in a sharp breath as I am met with a large bush only a few feet away from where I stand, waiting for someone to spring from behind it and attack me.

I shriek as something leaps from the bush, and I stumble backwards, only to spot a squirrel scurrying away.

I let out the breath I had been holding in, letting another cloud of breath pollute the midnight sky, and my hands find their way to my knees as I lean on them in order to regain my composure.

I stand up straight and drag a hand through my messy hair, scrunching it in the back.

I laugh dryly to myself, realizing I am being completely over dramatic, and that I am probably the only person on the street at this hour.

I blink as it seems to grow even darker than before, and look down to my phone, switching on the built in flashlight. The white light spills onto the ground before me, and I use it to scan my surroundings. I convince myself that I'm alone, and I'm being silly; it's late and I need to get home. My parents are going to be so pissed if I skip over my curfew.

I turn back to the road and let out a startled gasp.

Before me stands a figure, dressed in all black. I look up and see the face of a man, who is already smirking down at me.

"Tsk, tsk," he coos, "Isn't it past your bedtime, sweetie?"

"W-who are you?" I stutter, and I suddenly feel hot and sweaty despite the crisp, freezing weather.

The man does not respond. He only continues to stare into my eyes, and I feel as if he is invading my thoughts.

I slightly nod at him, and take a large step to the left, attempting to speed away from his tall stature and honey colored curls.