Insomnia

SLEEPWALKER OLD

A fingernail snaps under her teeth, letting her gain its attention.

She rips off the hangnail that remains, flicking it away nervously and fisting her cream shirt in her hands.

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.

Someone catcalls not too far away, making her eyes flick around to the source. Seeing as it's a familiar boy, she turns her head forward, trying to remain stoic as she waits for the bus.

"Pretty little Evangeline with that picture perfect body, why don't you come over here?" The boy slurs loudly, closer than she would really wish him to be.

"S-screw off." She mutters bitterly as he comes up beside her.

"I'll certainly screw you," he comments. "Aw... did the little slut forget her bunny slippers when she went for a midnight stroll?"

Her face flushes red.

"Looks like you remembered your pants this time," the blonde slurs in her ear, tugging at her leggings. He grabs her waist to prevent her escape as she struggles. "I wanna see your cute little polka dot panties again, you know, the ones with the little ruffles." He goads, grabbing her. "The ones my friends and I first caught you around campus in." He tugs at her pajama pants, trying to pull them off.

She whimpers, trying to struggle out of his grip. "Let me go, Sam!"

"Hey," the timbre of the man's voice resonates deeply, and Sam looks nearly terrified, but she can't get a good look. "I believe the girl asked to be let go."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Sam retorts, letting Evangeline stagger away.

Evangeline gasps as the hooded man suddenly lunges forward, punching Sam across the jaw. He leaves him to scramble away.

The screeching of breaks makes her ears perk up, looking at the bus.

"Thank you." She mumbles, letting him on the bus first.

"No problem, babe."

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. "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 clad legs.

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 art piece. God, he's terrifying. A white scar splits his lips, his menacing gray eyes drill through the back of her skull. — the epitome of his emotionless stare. "Where are your shoes?" The artwork asks curiously.

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

"I s-sleepwalk." She admits quietly through her hand, discretely pulling the nail off her tongue as she breaks her hand away. Her nail bed bleeds with that one.

She twines her fingers tightly, staring down at them. She stares out the window, trying to appear relaxed.

He knows better. He sees the way she fidgets, the way her chest rises and falls faster than it should, leaving the blonde curls lying on her breasts to go with it. Not to mention her tortured nails.