Danger Zone

Chapter 1:

My head lightly knocked against the bus’ splotched window. Tiny little rain drops peppered the glass before streaking down to the dirt blemished sill. The high school chatter had finally died down and my head was spinning. Doug, my bus driver, was making small talk with yet another substitute driver, showing him the rather lengthy route through my shady neighborhood.

Finally, the rickety bus heaved up to my stop and the rusty doors swayed open, allowing me access to the fresh air I desired. My combat boots shuffled across the asphalt as I trudged past the few blocks of suburbs and into a large alley way.  The gap between buildings was lined with dumpsters, filled with piles upon piles of smelly garbage. While sauntering down the small alley, I noticed something . . . off.  As soon as I had realized the trash can was ajar, screeches of pure agony sounded from behind the metal bins. My head spun in the direction of the strangled cries. Cautiously, I tiptoed over just close enough to peer over.

Lying on the ground was a woman, ‘round my age with tan skin and voluminous strands of jet-black hair. Her eyes, a shade of hazel, held an overwhelming amount of fear. Hovering over her was a tall man, an iron grip on a long, sharp blade. In the middle of the woman’s belly were several gashes, deep beyond repair. A gasp sounded from my mouth, and as soon as my line of sight collided with his, I was off. My feet had never moved so fast. I could hear the blood pumping through my ears, the adrenaline pushing my body past its limits. I came upon a warehouse with holes in the roof and large spots in the wall missing. Gasping for a much need breath, I squeezed through an opening in the wall and collapsed onto the dusty floor. A soft snapping of a twig caused my head to snap up and my body to flinch into a corner nearby. Silent footsteps became louder by the second, and I was so grateful that a table was hovering over me. I jumped as an off white converse padded by the table but kept quiet. Cunningly, the pair turned on their heels and strolled right in front of the table. The table that I was hiding under. I began to tremble in fear as the killers knees bent down to my level. I looked away. I couldn’t stare into those icy eyes on my own free will.

A devious chuckle sounded from his plump lips. “We need to talk.”

When I didn’t move he gently wrapped his long fingers around my forearms and dragged me out from under my only shelter. I let a low whimper slip past my lips as his icy digits dug deeper into my flesh. My body started to fully shake in fear as a warm tear slowly trickled down my flushed cheeks. His icy thumb pressed up against the tear, and swiped it off the side of my face. I could feel my breathing shallow, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

He hesitantly leaned in to whisper in my ear. I flinched away as his artic breath fanned over my neck, goose bumps arising on the newly meddled skin.

“How much did you see?” He asked coolly.

“I- I didn’t see anything.” I responded barely over a whisper.

I watched as he clenched his jaw and fisted his hands. “Don’t lie to me.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

I drew back as far as I could and avoided his irritated glare. “I just s- saw you kneeling down n- next to the girl with the knife in your hand,” I choked out.

His head bobbed slowly as he processed what I had said. After he pondered a bit he stood up and explained “Well then, let’s go, I have some errands to run,”

I looked up at him confused; wasn’t he going to let me go now? I didn’t actually see him stabbing her, I couldn’t get him arrested, for all I knew he could have been removing the knife from her belly and I over reacted. He had to of known that I couldn’t get him in any sort of trouble!

He stuck out a hand for me to take but I stared at it with an empty expression. “If you’re not going to cooperate, I’ll drag you there myself.” He warned. Though it was useless; I would not go without a fight. He heaved an agitated sigh before reaching down and hoisting me over his shoulder. I knew from previous self-defense classes that you never, and I mean never, let the felonious re-locate you. That’s where 99% of awful things go down, the secondary location.

I stayed still until he started walking, making his stance weaker, and swung my legs up towards his head, causing us both to go crashing down and his hold on my waist to loosen. I scrambled to my feet and shoved the heel of my boot in his most ‘sensitive’ area. He groaned in protest. As he balled up in a cocoon, I knew I had my chance. With one last kick to the ribs, I sped off, scooping up my backpack along the way, and retracing my steps to the all too familiar alleyway and preceded my usual route home. My hands were jittery, and I couldn’t seem to fit the key in the lock. I took a small step back and shook my arms and my hands with a reassuring breath of air. Yet again, I brought the key up to the lock and shoved it in. Smiling in victory, I swung the door open and strode into my lovely domain.

“Ah-ha!” I chuckled; overjoyed to be back home. My taunting laughter soon evolved into sobs, my fragile body sliding down the oak door. I rolled up my sleeves and examined the half-crescents framed in red, irritated skin. I was shocked. Utterly stunned, lost for words. I just could not wrap my head around the prior situation. Never in my life had I thought that those classes upon classes of self-protection would’ve been useful. But they weren’t. They were so much more than that. They were lifesaving.

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Dedicated to desnicolexo for inspiring me to write and for being such a great person ♥