Cycle

It was nights like these that made me really love this life. The sun had only just dipped below the horizon, so the clouds were still faintly glowing against the darkened sky. Stars were starting to come into view, and the street lamps illuminated the roads with a warm, yellow glow. Faint clouds were visible in the sky, and the air hung heavy the way it does before it rains. I was sitting on a bus stop bench with my best friend in the whole world as we shared a blue-raspberry icee and a Snickers bar.

"How long before you have to head home?" Jaesen asked.

"Probably soon. Mom'll murder me if she finds out I left."

Jaesen sighed. "I'm just glad that school is letting out soon," he said. "We'll be able to hang out a lot more." In his lap was a sketchbook, where he'd been scribbling another sketch of me. I used to hate the way I looked, until Jaesen started drawing me all the time. He was a talented artist, and somehow his drawings of me made me like myself more. I couldn't hate something that was so well-drawn. He often drew our friend group into comics, always making me some kind of wicked being with abilities far cooler than any I have in real life. Our friend group was always given some sort of mystery to solve.

I was tall for a fifteen-year-old girl. I kept my blonde hair cut just above the shoulders; I liked the way it framed my face better when it was short. My eyes were blue, and under my left eye was a small birthmark; a perfect ring that was paler than the rest of my skin.

A few raindrops fell from the sky. Seconds later, the light drizzle turned to a steady sprinkle. I took one last sip of our icee before I stood, shifting my weight from one foot to the next while I waited for Jaesen to gather up his pencils and shove them in his bag. Once he stood up, he opened his arms for a hug. I grinned, wrapping my arms around his neck in a quick embrace.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Be safe, Al!"

As I started my walk home, the rain was picking up fast — strings of wet hair already clinging to my forehead. I should definitely take the short way home, I noted mentally.

I crossed the street, watching for the alley I'd cut through to get home faster. Once I reached it, I turned the corner into the alley. It was much darker there, where the street lamps' glow couldn't reach. At the end was the dumpster I needed to climb onto to hop the fence, and on the other side was my neighborhood.

"Hey girlie," purred a voice behind me. My breath hitched in my throat as I whipped around. A man was standing at the entrance of the alley with a hood on, his face hidden in shadows.

"You got any cash you could lend me? Someone nabbed my wallet." He walked closer.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything on me," I said, giving an apologetic smile. I tried to keep walking, when his hand wrapped around my arm.

"We'll see about that," he snarled. The man shoved me up against the brick wall, hands reaching into my pockets.

"Stop!" I gasped, trying to shove him off. He pulled out a knife, pressing the blade to my throat.

"Hey now girlie, you'd better stop struggling," he purred, his breath brushing up against my ear. I shuddered, feeling my stomach turn at his closeness. His hands traveled up and down my body, searching for anything of value. With every touch I felt my skin crawl.

"Please just let me go," I hissed. He shoved me into the wall again, my head banging sharply against it. I felt a splitting stab through my skull, loud ringing in my ears.

"Shut up!" he growled. He then paused, his grip loosening just slightly as he seemed to be realizing something. "Damn! Allison Maver?"

How did he know my name? I didn't take time to dwell on the thought — I shoved him as hard as I could and took off running, but he was faster. He tackled me to the ground, the full weight of his body on top of me.