Breathe your last

Chapter 3: Dinner dates Part 1

I awoke panting, sweating excessively. The dreams were getting worse.

Occasionally I would forget the dream as I woke up the next morning. This was one of those occasions. I could recall what made them worse, another person has entered my dreams, a man. I knew who he was then, but now I could not place his face. Its only ever been the demons and myself. Now there was a new player in the game.

I got up and showered, trying to erase the memories of the previous night down the drain. I was glad it was Saturday. I could have a day of rest and with our report done the stress left along with it.

I walked down into the kitchen to see my dad sitting there, it was still quite early.

"Early morning?" I ask pouring myself a cup of coffee from the pot my dad must of made.

"Yea, I have the weekend case." My dad worked as a highly regarded lawyer, it brought in a lot of money but he was rarely home, especially the last few weeks. I assumed he was trying to keep his mind off my mothers death, yes they divorced a while ago but my dad did love her earlier in his life.

I nodded my head sitting across from him. We sat in silence drinking our coffee until he he had to leave. He bid me goodbye and I was now alone. I went to the frigde looking for some eggs and to my dismay we didn't have any. We didn't have much of anything, what with neither my dad nor I doing any shopping really. I decided thats what I would do today. I was not the type to just sit around, I got bored way to easily.

I drove around in my car looking for the closest store which happened to be a Walmart. I wasn't to fond of the place. It was always so busy and contained the weirdest of people, but I was still new to the area and did not want to get lost so decided just to get my groceries here and do what needed to be done.

Walking through the Isles I took the necessities and a few extra things just as treats. I was disappointed they didn't have any milk tarts, I knew it was my dads favourite. I also put a few other things for the house into my shopping cart such as candles and matches.

Walking in and amonsgt the Isles, a man abruptly stopped infront of me. Walking around my cart, he stood next to me, forcing me to angle my body towards his leading us into the position of face to face. He was too close for comfort, his clothes were torn and his knuckles split open and dried blood lingered around what appeared to be fresh cuts. He had dark, hallowed eyes and a crooked nose evidence it may have been broken before. His hair was grey and frail.

"Hello darlin'," he drawled with slurred words whilst inclining towards me, I moved backwards but was stopped when my back came into contact with the metal shelving. I tilted head to the side in an effort to avoid the stench of alcohol reeking from his clothes and more specifically, his breath.

"Please leave me be." I said loudly in an attempt to gain the attention of the other shoppers. We were in the ceramics Isle, we only being himself and I.

He simply laughed.

"I think the lady told you to leave her be" another voice had joined in on our conversation.

To my relief yet annoyance, it was Dan.

The man laughed again. Dan made a move to stand infront of me whilst pushing the man slightly back so he could wedge his body between mine and the now angered drunk man, he made the first move raising his fist in an attempt to hit Dans jaw but he caught his fist and twisted it.

"Do not start something you cannot finish" he let out in a low voice laced with anger and resentment.

The man twisted his wrist free and caught Dan off guard giving him an advantage. He hit Dan straight in the jaw in an attempt to slow him down but his efforts were deemed useless as he made a move to hit the man back. It had turned into a full blown fist fight and by now shoppers stood within the Isle recording the fight on their cell phones and out of the corner of my eye I could see one of the staff members calling the police. As for myself I merely stood watching, I knew any efforts I made to stop them would be ineffective and would only get me hurt as well. The mans throws were getting sloppier and slower, no doubt the alcohol was taking its toll on him. He seemed to have mustered everything he had left into one last punch but stumbled on his feet in an entirely new direction.