The Girl and the Night

Photo by Pâmela Lima on Unsplash

They offered to walk with her. It was a rule they had. No one was left to walk to their car alone at the end of the night. There was no reason to talk about why.

It had only been a couple drinks. Just the right amount to sway her judgement while letting her think she was in control. She’d felt safe there, surrounded by people she knew and trusted, lights drowning out the darkness outside. So she’d waved them off. She’d laughed. And then she’d left.

She couldn’t remember where she’d parked, but knew it wasn’t far. It had still been daylight when she arrived and though she hadn’t paid much attention to her surroundings, she was sure she hadn’t walked more than a few blocks.

The voices and music faded as she walked, but her head was buzzing and there was a faint hum throughout her body that electrified her.

It wasn’t until she reached the corner that she felt the first hint of uneasiness. It came on suddenly. Finely honed instincts picking up the slightest shift in the atmosphere. A prickling on the back of her neck. She glanced over her shoulder. There was only an empty street behind her, but the feeling lingered. She pulled the strap of her purse higher onto her shoulder and continued walking, telling herself it was only paranoia getting the best of her. Another few steps. She glanced back once more.

This time there was something. Or she thought there was. She couldn’t make out its shape in the darkness. All she could see was a shadow among shadows. She shivered. She walked faster.

Her steps were audible against the sidewalk, betraying her fear by their quick clip. She wished she had worn different shoes, ones that didn’t give off the particular tap of high heels. Ones that sounded heavier, less feminine. But despite the sound, her steps quickened.

Telling herself again that she was being paranoid, she glanced over her shoulder once more. The shadow was still there. Closer now. And it was the unmistakable silhouette of a man.

She pulled at the hem of her skirt. The dress had been a last minute decision. She’d put on jeans, but then changed just before leaving home. It was the kind of outfit that made her feel confident. Usually. In that moment, the way it fit made her feel vulnerable.

She knew how she must look to the man behind her as she walked down the street. The way the fabric hugged her body. The way the heels made her legs look as they extended from beneath the hem of her skirt. The too-short hem. She pulled down the back of the skirt again, trying to cover more, even just another inch.

She could feel his eyes on her.

It’s okay, she repeated to herself, though the words did nothing to calm her. She reached into her purse, digging for her phone so she would have something to hold, a tangible lifeline. The pocket that she normally slipped it into was empty and she instantly remembered where it was. Back at the party, plugged into a wall to charge. Her throat tightened in fear and frustration. She was alone.

She was breathing faster now. She dug through her purse once more, this time in search of her keys. Her fingers found her wallet and a tin of mints, a package of tissues and a crumpled receipt. It was an old joke that she could always find everything in her purse except what she was looking for. It was an everyday occurrence, nothing more than a mild inconvenience, but this time it made her panic. They had been lost. They’d fallen out somewhere and were gone, leaving her with no way of getting home and her path back to the party blocked.

The rational part of her knew it would be easier to find them if she stopped walking and searched the purse without trying to multitask, but a stronger instinct kept her moving.

The longer the search went on, the more flustered she became. She feared her panic was obvious. She forced herself to not look back.

The relief she felt when her fingers finally wrapped around the keys was so strong that she almost forgot the real danger. But it wasn’t more than a fleeting moment. Pushing a key between each finger, she kept walking.

She crossed another street into a commercial area. Most of the buildings were dark, closed for the evening. The street had seemed unremarkable during the day, but it took on a different manner now that it was abandoned. Far more threatening than any crowd could be. She felt exposed.

She glanced over her shoulder again. The silhouette was tall. If he was imposing at a distance, she could only imagine what he looked like up close. He was still several building lengths behind her, but that was closer than where he’d been when she first spotted him. Close enough that he could easily catch up to her if he tried. She wasn’t a fast runner to begin with and those tapping shoes would slow her down.

It doesn’t matter, she told herself. He wouldn’t come after her. He wasn’t going to do anything. It was only a coincidence that he was walking in the same direction as her. In all likelihood he was perfectly nice and didn’t know how his presence was affecting her.

But why was he following at such a precise distance? Just far enough that she couldn’t see his face, but close enough to reach her in a few long strides. He had to know she would fear the worst. How could he not? But he was following her anyway.

She walked faster.

He was coming closer. It didn’t matter how much she picked up her pace, she could feel him getting closer and closer to her with every step. She searched along the sidewalk for anything heavy enough to be used as a weapon, but there was only trash lining the gutters.

She could hear his footsteps now. They got louder and louder, along with the blood pounding in her ears, until she was sure he was right behind her.

A flash of light caught her eye and before she could think what she was doing, she turned and pushed open a door. A bell tinkled over the buzz of fluorescent lights. A convenience store. An unlikely refuge, but she’d never felt more relieved.

The door swung shut behind her. She looked over her shoulder as the man passed by outside without so much as a glance in her direction. Her pulse thrummed throughout her body. She watched the man move further away from her into the night until she couldn’t see him any longer.

She let out a breath, but fought to hold in the tears that suddenly threatened to spill over. Standing just inside the door, she took deep breaths in and out, pressing one hand to her chest as she willed her heartrate to return to normal. As it did, she glanced around at her new surroundings. Rows of generic snacks, magazines, and basic essentials. Chipped linoleum and a couple missing ceiling tiles. A man behind the counter who was staring at her.

Her eyes locked with his and she shifted from one foot to the other. She’d planned on leaving the store once the man on the sidewalk was gone, but with the danger behind her there came a sudden return of social convention. It would seem strange if she abruptly turned and left. Rude even. Of course, she didn’t know the man behind the counter and would never have to see him again, but her rationality was completely frayed at the moment.

When she didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow as if to say Well…?

Quickly, then. She walked over to the first row of candy and grabbed a bag of Skittles, her old stand-by. She didn’t look at the man again as she made her way to the counter. Neither of them spoke as he rang up her purchase, but she could feel his eyes on her. If she’d made any progress in calming herself, it was now gone. Her heart pounded so hard she could hardly hear anything else. Her vision narrowed. She suddenly felt hot.

She dug through her purse for enough loose change to cover her purchase, hoping the man behind the counter didn’t notice that her hands were shaking. She silently cursed herself for not being more organized, for not using that stupid coin purse her mother had insisted she needed. Almost like she knew. Her eyes burned and a lump formed in her throat. Keep it together.

When she’d finally scraped together enough change, she dropped the coins on the counter, grabbed the candy and hurried out of the store.

Pushing the door open with her shoulder, she clutched the bag of Skittles in one hand and held her keys in the other. It was quiet outside. No footsteps other than her own. She set off in the direction she prayed her car was in. It couldn’t be much further, but it was hard to be certain of anything.

Breathe. Stay calm. It’ll be all right.

She tried to keep her pace even and felt herself calming down as she started down the street. But she hadn’t made it far from the store when a car turned the corner up ahead. She was blinded by headlights. Instantly, she thought of the stories she’d always heard about people being grabbed off the street and forced into cars. The car would slow down just enough for someone inside to reach out. She imagined disembodied arms reaching for her.

She hesitated, caught in the beam of the car’s headlights. She clutched her keys so tightly, the metal ring dug into her palm. Moving further away from the curb, closer to the buildings, she kept walking. The car wasn’t going fast. It could have been preparing to stop. Her breathing became shallow. Blood rushed through her ears. Time passed both slowly and quickly as the car neared. She was sure it was slowing down. She cursed herself again for not buying something more practical at the convenience store. A soda or a beer, anything in a glass bottle that she could smash over someone’s head. The bag of Skittles crinkled in her tightening fist.

Maybe she could run if she had to. She would try. As long as the person in the car wasn’t too athletic she might be able to make it. She could kick off the heels easily enough.

At the moment when the car pulled up directly next to her, she tensed her muscles, ready to take off. She tilted her head toward the car just enough that she could see it out of the corner of her eye. Even though it was dark, she saw the driver turn and looked at her. She shifted her weight onto one leg, rocking herself forward on the ball of her foot. Her heel slid out of the shoe, her other leg extending into a stride. The car door would fly open. She would be gone before the arms could reach her.

The car kept going. What would have been a stride became a step. She turned her head, watching the car roll by. The brake lights didn’t come on.

It turned another corner, disappearing from view. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing it was a dangerous thing to do, but just for a moment she kept them closed and took a breath. Her car felt further away now than it had when she’d left the party.

She opened her eyes and kept walking. Every step brought her closer to safety.

One step closer, she told herself. One step less.

She heard things in the dark, things she couldn’t see. She heard a rustling, but there wasn’t any wind. She heard footsteps, but didn’t see anyone passing by. She heard clicking and scratching and scraping, but she couldn’t think where it was coming from. It could be anything. It could be nothing.

Please let me get home safely, she prayed.

Some part of her feared she would never reach her car. She didn’t realize just how convinced she’d been of that possibility until she turned a corner and saw it, the surprise coming a beat before the relief. She ran the last few steps, fumbling in her purse for her keys before remembering they were still between her fingers.

She checked the backseat before sliding behind the wheel and hit the automatic lock button, letting out a breath as all the doors locked at once, sealing her in. She was safe, but as she pulled away from the curb and drove into the night, she was still shaking.