Roulette
For Paul Stewart's Unnerve, Unsettle, and Scare Me Challenge
This is for Paul Stewart's Unnerve, Unsettle, and Scare Me Challenge, linked here:
I was still a little drunk when I got off the bus, full of bottled confidence, bolstered by camaraderie. It had been a good night. We’d talked and laughed, danced a little, and sat shoulder to shoulder in the humid fug of the club, knowing ourselves to be radiant and ripe with power. I had promised I would get a taxi, but I knew I was going to walk. I wanted to walk, to feel the night and the strength in my legs. Plus, it was ridiculous to get a taxi for less than a mile. That dick on the bus wasn’t going to push me around, sitting there, staring at me. Touching himself under his coat I think. Fuck him. I should be able to walk where I want to walk. Shouldn’t have to be afraid.
Cold air hit me like a sobering slap as I stepped down out of the sticky warmth of the bus. The trick, I knew, was not to look like easy pickings, and I strode out of the pool of light beneath the bus stop and into the darkness without pausing. The 3am streets were quiet, out here in the suburbs, the windows unlit dark squares staring down at me from every direction. Who knows which ones were occupied? My boots were loud on the pavement in the quiet, and it was this that first made me question myself. Each step seemed to shout “lone woman, over here” as I walked, but every effort I made to quiet my footfalls made me slower. Was that another footfall, behind me? Head up, breathe, nothing’s going to happen. Don’t look back.
I could see, at the end of the street, the light from the sign on the pizza place and the chip shop next door. Since the council turned the street lights off after midnight to save money, that corner was lit in green and red, a tired Christmas tree, wilting on the kerb. Still, I made for it like I was aiming for base, a point of safety before the next leg towards home. My shadow appeared beside me as I approached, tall and hanging back a little, but then drawing alongside me, growing shorter, only mine. Or is that a second shadow now, gaining on my, stretching, overtaking me. Arrector pili contract in a ripple from my fizzing scalp and down my tingling neck, across my shoulders, along my arms, the tiny hairs like cats’ whiskers, feeling for the contact….but no. This is still my shadow. Isn’t it? The man on the bus, he did not stand when I stood, did he?
I try to catch a glimpse in the glass shop front, and see only me, my not-going-out-like-that skirt too high, my boots too suggestive, my bulbous puffer jacket a transparent lie. I am not as strong as he was. I steal a glance behind me. I must not look afraid, I must not trigger the predatory pounce. But there is no one there. I think. Not close. No. Not at all. I think.
It is ten minutes home. Five across the car park. I am stood on the edge of that ocean of dark, that labyrinth of dead cars in shades of black. I remember, in my skin, the feel of his hand on my arm, pulling, tugging, beer breath in my ear. I remember the crush of his body against my lungs, the wall at my back, his hand pressing mine against the hardness at his crotch. I remember the shock of his fingers inside my shorts, and I remember the snap when I broke one, the punch in return when he recoiled. I remember the man who followed me home. The one who clawed at my door. Five different men. Not all men. Five uninvited men. Among more men.
In my pockets, one hand tightens around my keys, my fingers shuffling the jagged blades to protrude between my knuckles. The other clasps my phone a little tighter. I am afraid, and I opt for fast fear over protracted, plunging into the shadowed maze of the car park. I am walking fast, not running, not quite, and I am half way across, my breath as loud as my footfalls in my ears, when I see a man, standing, watching me. My heart jumps to hammer at my temples and I cannot turn away, though, if he hasn’t seen me, looking seems to invite it. He is very still, waiting, wait, a bollard, not a man? Was there a man, before, in the dark? A movement in my peripheral vision, and I hear a noise, my noise, small, pathetic, helpless. Helpless. Another noise? I can see the other shore so close, and I could run. I should not have to run.
*
Authors Note: I am aware this is well trodden ground, there is no twist, no clever angle, no supernatural thrill here. But there is also no fiction, though the piece is, in this format, a fiction. I was struck, when reading what Paul wanted, to be "afraid of turning off the light switch, walking down that alley, walking through the woods during the day or at night, or an empty car park", how in another context, he had described life as a woman. I dont speak for all women, I'm sure, but while these are just some of my stories, I do not have a girl friend who does not have her own, similar or worse. And each time you make it home, each time the shadows were yours, the footsteps inconsequential, the flash of movement just a fox, each time feels like you dodged the bullet this time. And we keep spinning the barrel, and reminding ourselves that it shouldn't have to be that way.
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Outstanding
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Compelling and original writing
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Comments (24)
Congrats, Hannah, on winning Paul's challenge!!
Might find this interesting - https://vocal.media/writers/paul-stewart-s-unnerve-unsettle-and-scare-me-challenge-winners-announcement Congratulations, Hannah!
You had me unnerved for her.
No one should have to Run! Great story Hannah. First person narration works very well here!!
This is a familiar story, and all the more powerful for its familiarity xx
Oh my god this felt too real. To think this shit happens every day, some men really deserve hell. Congrats on top story btw
The fear and tension you built felt real. Men pretend they are not scared in those situations but a lot of us are. I used to walk through a stretch of woods as a teenager to get to my house (it was a shortcut). There were no phone lights back then. I was cautious and scared most of the time, but it beat walking around, lol. Once again, creepy story, Hannah and congrats!
Great storytelling Hannah! Full of suspense and got my heart racing. You’re right, it shouldn’t have to be this way but it is the world we live in.
This...blew me away, Hannah. You more than delivered on the brief/prompt and it really makes me worried for my wife and all the women I know that this is a sad reality for you all! You built this up so well and just kept it grounded and that made it terrifying, because as Jason and Celia said, the fact/reality is scarier than anything ficticious. I am so glad this got Top Story too, congrats and thank you for your entry.
Great
This is bang on. I have walked home so many times and regretted the decision. Fantastic writing.
My heart was racing as i prayed for your deliverance. Such horrid things in life that rob us of our innocence and joy. It should not happen, yet it ever will. Congrats on TS.
Congratulations on the Top Story Hannah. You are right that it shouldn't be this way. It really saddens me to know that these things happen.
Congratulations!! Great entry. 🎉
This is great writing. You really bring out what it feels like to be a woman in this world. I actually felt angry reading this, knowing that you speak the truth!! Congrats on Top Story
Congratulations on achieving top story status!
Congrats on the TS.
Hed this on my read list for today! And its already TS! Congratulations! Brilliantly written but it is so infuriating that fact is so often more terrifying than fiction. 🤍
Yes, it should not be this way ever. But it is. This was powerful stuff, Hannah.
Oh wow, you're absolutely right! This is how it actually feels to be a woman. Your story was sooooo creepy!
Another example where truth is scarier than fiction, unfortunately. Very well told,
Nice Storytelling 😊📝🫶🏾‼️
well told story
That was awesome! And you're right, it shouldn't have to be this way.