Free Body by Audrey Carlan

speak.
    “You don’t have to apologize or answer for anything. Enjoy your real date!” The shrill tone surprises even me as I hang up on him. Immediately the phone rings again and I ignore it. It keeps ringing and ringing until I smash the power button and turn the damn thing off.
    In my desire to bolt, I wasn’t paying attention, just following the need to get away. To escape. The darkened section of the city I’ve found myself in isn’t exactly appealing. Why the hell do I always get myself in these situations? Did I do something to someone in a past life to have such crummy karma? Glancing around the dark street, I realize I’m lost. Running blindly in varying directions so that I wouldn’t be followed seemed like a great plan at the time. Now, not so much.
    Ahead, a streetlamp illuminates a small area and looks like the best place to stop and call a cab. Pressing zero on the phone, I get the operator. The woman is helpful, and I look up at the street sign to tell her where I’m stranded. She connects me to a cab company that assures me they will pick me up in fifteen minutes.
    This night went from good, to bad, to worse in what seemed like a nanosecond. The thought of having to sit in the same room with Chase tomorrow at the meeting, knowing what he and Tatiana are going to do all night makes me want to hurl. I place my phone in my pocket and lean against the chain link fence behind me to rifle through my purse. Maybe I can find a loose hair-tie and get the sweaty hair off my neck. Crazy ending to what started out to be an amazing day.
    Crunching leaves and the sound of footsteps behind me makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Without warning, a large hand comes around my neck and pulls me against the fence. The metal digs into my back as my feet flail and kick out. Reflexively, I use both hands to yank at the hand restricting my breath, but it won’t budge.
    “You fucking scream, bitch, and I’ll kill you,” says a man’s voice next to my ear. The stench of sweat mixed with cigarettes is revolting. My body stiffens and trembles. Instantly, I’m taken back to a memory of when Justin would hold me down. I remember the glazed faraway look in his eyes right before he’d strike. Panic rips through my chest and fear takes over my defenses. The attacker’s voice rips through all thoughts, “You listen to me, you little cunt. Hand me your purse now, and I won’t kill you.”
    The cold, hard steel of a gun presses against my skull as his other hand squeezes the tender skin at my neck, cutting off all air. I gag and choke at the vice-like grip around my throat. Oh God, please no!
    “Okay, okay. Whatever you want,” I’m barely able to get out through his snake like constriction on my neck, preventing much sound.
    His hand grips my neck like a steel claw, nails digging in, piercing the flesh. I feel blood pool and drip down my neck in small little streams like the legs of red wine, dancing along a swirled glass. Pain sears through my neck and chest, black and white stars pop in my peripheral vision like flashes of a camera lens. I’m going to die. I remember the feeling all too well when Justin left me on the cold hard floor of our apartment a few years ago to bleed out.
    “You can have whatever you want, please!” A choked, raspy sob spills from my lungs. I hold up my purse and the man squeezes the tender flesh of my neck so tight I can’t breathe. “Good bitch!” he says from over my shoulder. He snatches the purse from my hand.
    He lets my neck go long enough for a blood curdling scream to roar through the empty street just as his hand strikes my face with the hard metal of his gun. The world goes black.
     
    ***
    Beep. Beep. Beep.
    Someone turn off the alarm. The beeping continues like Chinese water torture against the frayed edges of consciousness. My eyelashes are heavy and hard to open. It’s as if the lashes are weighed down by tiny manacles holding onto each strand.