Magic

8: Furniture and Futures

Niomi's POV: 

"Hey! Wait up!" Someone calls from behind me. 

I cringe, knowing that it's the man. I push my sunglasses further up my nose and turn around. But he's clever. 

"Hey! I know you! I ran behind you earlier today. Your a pretty fast girl." He says, his British accent amusing.

 I give him a tight smile. 

"Why were you following me?" I ask sternly. 

He seems to panic a bit at this. I have a feeling he doesn't want me to know that he's secretly some kind of a stalker. 

"Well.... Uh, well, it's because your beautiful." He says nervously. 

I gasp quietly at this. 

"Really? you think I'm pretty?" I ask, a light blush. 

"No," he replies, "I think your beautiful. There's a difference. Believe me." He says smoothly. 

 I internally sigh, but on the outside I'm polite. 

"Thank you. You're not too bad lookin' yourself." I reply, taking my phone out of his hand. I turn around and start walking away. I can't stand being here another second. 

If just talking to a stranger is uncomfortable for me, today will NOT be a good day. I push open the lobby doors and run up to Hazel's silver car. I jump into the passenger's seat and throw my seatbelt on, not even saying hello. After I'm safely secured in my seat,I turn to Hazel and say in my most serious tone: 

"Let's blow this Popsicle stand." 

And with that, we take off into the crowded city that is New York. 

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~ 3 Hours Later~ 

Uuuuuuggggghhhhhh......................... 

Longest. Three. Hours. Of. My. Life.  

After going to about ten furniture stores, we realized that I'm too poor to afford the expensive, nice furniture. So, basically, we ended up at IKEA. Like, I seriously bought all my furniture from there. 

 After going home, changing into some more comfortable clothing, I am ready to head out and meet with "The Weirdo". 

After I arrive at our bench, I look around, looking for her cloud of red hair. But I don't see her. I double check the time on my phone and see that it's exactly 2 o'clock. I scan the area for her, but she's no where in sight. 

But then something catches my eye. There, hidden in the trees, is a small note attached to a branch of a tall pine. I take the note off and open the little front. The inside reads: 

Niomi~ 

        We'll have to meet somewhere else, because this spot has been compromised. You can continue to come here, but don't talk to anyone or tell anyone your name. It's too dangerous. I promise I'll explain later, but for now, meet me at this location: 1124 W 4th. Burn this paper after memorizing the address. 

                                                                                                                                              ~ Sabria (My name)

I don't even have to re-read the paper to know she's being completely serious. I quickly memorize the address and fold the paper into a tiny square. I take the lighter out of my purse that I keep for emergencies and light the paper up. 

It burns quickly. I drop it on the ground where is smolders and dies out. But all that's left is ash. I smile at my work and head off to find this new address. 

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 After locating the building and finding that no one was there, I head home, saying as it's now 5 o'clock. When I get back to my apartment, I feel a shift in the air. And I can smell a man's cologne. 

I ease the door open the rest of the way and shut it without a sound. I put my purse and coat down on the couch and silently slide my shoes off. I can walk silently without the hassle of shoes. I creep into the hallway, then I stop. 

I heard a thump. And their continuing. Whoever is in my apartment isn't being very quiet. And that's working in my advantage. I run down the hallway on my silent feet and stop. Their in my bedroom. I squat down and look under the door. 

The person is near my closet, so I should be able to get in without them noticing. I grab the door handle, scared at who I might find. I ease the door open, fearing that it might creek. It doesn't. 

I slide into the room unnoticed and duck behind my bed. I chance a peak a round the bedpost and see the culprit. A tall, broad man, somewhere in his thirties, pretty much bald, with a creepy mustache. Your average, everyday, gangster. 

If I have to fight him, there's a good chance I'll win. He's currently going through my closet, looking for something. And I know what it is. 

But you'll never find it in there, I think to myself. 

Right as he's about to hit the very back of the closet, he stops. He turns and exits the closet, seeming to be sniffing the air. Oh no. He must have caught the scent of my perfume. 

As soon as he is fully out of the closet, I take my chance. I run at him, screaming and yelling, and grab him by the neck at full speed. I pull him to the ground,  his head hitting the floor. He grunts and pushes me off him. But I won't give up that easy. 

I run to the very far wall of the room, push off, and run full speed at him. He doesn't even know what's hit him. 

I skillfully swing my legs up and around his neck, scissor-holding him, and squeeze with my thighs. I start to angle my body downward, and he goes down with me. Just as his head is about to make hard contact with the floor, I push myself off of him. 

His head hits the ground and he crumples. That'll teach people to mess with me and my stuff. 

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P.S. The pic on the side is the guy she ran into at the beginning