Insomnia

Sleepwalker // One

The dark street likes to gnaw at her insides, making her whip her head this way and that in fear. She doesn't know where she is. She's never walked this far before. She could've been hit by a car. She may have never found a bus stop. Her legs burn. Her toes are cold against the concrete. She refuses to sit on the bench, rubbing her cold arms to try and keep in heat.

Her thin shorts and t-shirt do nothing to keep out the bitter cold.

In the distance, the watches another figure come up beside her. A man in a dark hoodie and jeans. He gives her a bit of a look, though doesn't say anything.

Cars pass as they wait in silence for the bus. He shoves his hands in his pockets.

A white mustang with a racing stripe starts to slow, and the passenger rolls the window down. The car stops just in front of her. "Hey, mama, where you goin'!?"

She stares at the concrete.

He hangs out the window - just some scrawny white boy thinks he's cool. "Don't be like that, why don't you hop in and we'll take you wherever you need to go."

She speaks up. "I'm fine. Thank you."

"C'mon, we got a some booze, a little pot back at my place. Get in. We're gonna have fun."

The man standing next to her spoke up. "She said no. Get lost."

"Was I talking to you?" The man demands. "Naw, I wasn't. I was talking to shorty right here. Let the girl speak." He trained his eyes back on the girl. "We've got some coke if that's more your speed, baby."

"I said no, leave me the hell alone!" She said, a little firmer than she meant to.

She absolutely did not expect what happened next.

The guy in the car started to get out. Evie fell back several steps, and man next to her ran up to the car and kicked the door hard with a boot, causing a thunk, crack, and loud cry from the passenger. "Get lost!" The man in the hoodie reiterated.

Passenger curled up in his seat, clutching his ankle in pain and demanding that the driver go. The door slammed again and the car sped off.

"Thank you." She mumbles.

"You okay?"

She gives him a glance. "I'm fine."

The bus finally pulls up in front of them and screeches to a halt.

She follows him up the cold, metal stairs. The hooded man easily fishes money out of his pockets. Evie tries to explain to the bus driver about her sleep walking, and how she has absolutely no other way of getting to or finding campus, but he won't take it.

"I need the money, kid. Off."

The hooded man stands from the back of the bus, handing the bus driver the appropriate amount of cash and grabs her little hand, pulling her to the back with him. A few passengers give her odd looks, a paused stare at body parts, but they glimpse at the man and look away. "You're hurting me." She whispers as the man forces her to sit down. He lets go, sitting down next to her and stretching out his long, denim covered legs. He pulls the hood off his head.

Oh...

Tattoos crawl and creep up what is exposed of his neck, decorating his brutish fingers along with his several silver and gold rings. A walking painted statue. God, he's terrifying. A white scar splits his bottom lip, his menacing gray eyes drill through the back of her skull. — the epitome of his emotionless stare.

"Where are your shoes?" The man asks curiously.

She could barely hear him over her fast fluttering heart. She silently hopes he can't hear it.