Man Eater

The girl’s red hair was swinging lightly in the air, licking her bare shoulders when she walked out of the stranger’s apartment. The girl adjusted her orange tube top as she walked towards the bus stop, the cold air chilled her exposed arms. The designated area was only two blocks away from the apartment, but the icy wind pierced her skin, making its mark by turning it bright red.

The red head’s arms were frozen by the time her feet reached the bus stop. She looked down the street, her eyes fixed to see the bus arrive. The girl hugged her arms to her chest; her hands chafed her arms as she closed her eyes and inhaled the dark night. She was hammered, the girl didn’t know where she was, or who she was just with, but she would somehow find her own way home. The girl always found her way home.

A low hum surrounded the night as the transit made its appearance. After a few minutes the bus finally opened its doors in front of the slender girl. She stumbled her way towards it and grabbed the side of the bus doors to support her weight. The girl climbed the bus steps, being careful not to  trip over each step. When she reached eye level with the bus driver, he tilted his cap towards her. His face was lined with wrinkles, but his hair wasn’t gray, it was a dull shade of brown.

The girl with a head of red hair dug in her pockets for the right amount of money to cover the two dollar bus fare. She found the right amount in nickels and dimes, and dropped it into the bus till. The old man gave her a ticket stub and she stumbled toward an open seat in the front of the bus. The girl liked to drink but always had somewhat control over what was happening. Her brain worked fine, no matter how much alcohol she had consumed. Drinking gave her body the fill to the emptiness inside her, the place that ate at her every sober minute.

The teenager knew she was on the right bus because this city only had one bus. A prison cell that led her back to the pathetic town she lived in. The bus was empty besides another passenger sitting in the middle of the bus. The man was reading a newspaper, stroking his scruff on his face. He had faded blue jeans on with spotless black dress shoes. A golden watch could be seen in the sleeves of his black overcoat. The watch that glistened of the dim lights of the bus and caught the girls eye.

The movement of the bus made the teenager drowsy. She stared at the seats ahead of her to help keep her eyes open, but the seats kept moving, which made her even dizzier. The windows didn’t do much closure as the bus was constantly passing objects outside. The night sky danced around the street lights, the trees, and the road. The motion sickness started to kick in and nausea followed. The girl’s eyes quickly closed in hopes to ease the pain. Her head throbbed in her skull as the headache deepened. The teenager’s hands started to massage her temples, in hopes of the headache quickly passing by.

She didn’t know how long she was rubbing her head but when she opened her eyes again, she was almost home. A smile rose to her lips, but it quickly dropped when she realized she was close to her house. The girl didn’t want to go home. The reason she went to that bar was because of her home, she wanted to escape, but now it’s time to go back to the dungeon. Just like Cinderella got her night off, she had to go back to her slave life too, even after the wonderful night. There was no prince to present her with a glass slipper this time, though and she knew what would be waiting at home when she arrived. She nervously poked at the pockets in her jeans. The girl looked down on the floor,  the grimace stayed plastered on her face for the rest of the ride.

“Coming up is Orchard Street and Scott Avenue.” The bus driver called. The girl opened her eyes and looked around, she recognised that the man wasn’t on the bus anymore. The teenager got to her feet with much hesitation and stood beside the door to get off. The bus came to a complete stop and opened the doors. The girl mumbled a quick thank you and stepped off the bus.

The girl sobered up while she walked home from the stop. The street lamps lit up the night and guided her way home. The moon was high in the sky while she in took the familiar scenery. Before long she could see her house in the distance. The houses were far apart because of the big property of her neighbours. A few meters stood her house. The one place she doesn’t want to be, the one place where she grew up.

She stood at the head of her property; her feet ached from the high heels she was wearing. The brisk air left her numb; she didn’t even feel the coldness anymore, only a throbbing headache. She took off her heels and walked bare foot to her front door. The cold, wet grass licked her feet as she walked towards her destination. The girl wanted to turn around and run, but she didn’t, she kept walking. Her mind wasn’t working, she felt like a robot that could not think only act. The numbness still lingered as she walked the final steps to her house.

The teenager was on the small landing before her front door.  Bushes surrounded the landing on either side on it, protected by a small railing. The landing only had room for a small welcome matt and a flower pot that was located in the corner. The stones chilled her feet as she walked over to the flower pot. Her fingers handled the extra key that was hidden inside the pot. Her hands felt automatic as she placed the key in the keyhole. The girl has done this many times, All those times came to the same consequences.

She pushed open the door and it exposed the darkness of the house. It was pitched black, no lights were on. Her reward for her night was to come back to an empty house. She bit her lip before she went in, debating whether or not if it was worth it. Her chest ached as she took a step into the house. The darkness consumed her as she closed the door to the outside.