Stroke of Luck

Opening the front door to Stroke of Luck diner, the bell jingles as Lauren shuts it behind her as she steps outside. Multiple grease stains litter Lauren’s black shirt, some more noticeable in the moonlight, the streetlamp next to the diner still broken, giving only the moon as light to lock the front door. She yawns, covering her mouth as she locks the front door to the little diner, her shoulders tense and in pain from carrying plates of food all day. She stretches her neck side to side to relieve some of the tension, but it is only temporary.

Picking up her backpack from the dirty pavement beside her, Lauren deposits the front door key into the front pocket as she turns away and walks down the street, heading for the bus stop. It is a quiet night with little bits of rubbish littering the gutters with the breeze flowing past Lauren’s face every now and then.

She keeps her head down as she walks, focusing on her shoes, noting that they are slowly falling apart, and she will be due for new ones soon. With a heavy sigh, she picks her head up and freezes. Her heart drops to her stomach as she sees the last bus of the night dropping off people before taking off down the road, disappearing from sight.

She scrunches her eyes together as she fights back tears, breathing deeply and wiping her hands over her face as she roughly exhales. It is not the first time she has missed her bus because she was working late and she doubt it will be the last, but it never stops making her feel like the world is against her. “Why can’t I catch a break?” She asks herself, her voice barely above a whisper, cracking at the end as she pulls at her hair, the oiliness of it making her feel disgusted. Dropping her hands back down, she inhales before breathing out through her mouth, and pulls her phone from her backpack.

Tapping on the phone, the screen does not light up and Lauren feels the familiar build-up of tears in her eyes again, for the second time that night. Throwing her phone back into her bag, she looks around to see if she can ask anyone from the bus for their phone to call a cab, but they are already gone, leaving her alone on the street once again.

Closing her eyes, Lauren takes deep breaths, something she has learnt to do to help with her anxiety, and mutters to herself over and over, “stop feeling sorry for yourself.” She continues this until the feeling of crying has stopped, before starting the long walk home.

Not long into her walk, a group of men step out from an alleyway, chatting loudly which stops abruptly once they catch sight of Lauren. They focus their beady eyes on her, lifting beer bottles and swigging them down as Lauren is unaware of their presence on the other side of the road. The men down their drinks before chucking them into the gutter, the sound of shattering glass echoing in the air.

Lauren jumps, the sound startling her and brings her hand to her chest, turning around and making eye contact with the group of men. Eyes wide, she turns around quickly and starts to half walk and jog away from the group of men. Her heart beats wildly in her chest and her breaths come out in short pants.

“Hey! Girl!” A man shouts just after Lauren turns to walk away.

She swallows and holds her breath and hopes that if she ignores them, they will go away.

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! We just want to talk to you!” Another guy shouts at her before more sounds of shattering glass echoes in the night, making Lauren flinch and a small whimper escape, but she does not stop walking.

The men cross the road, their footsteps loud and scraping against the pavement as they walk after Lauren. They continue to jeer at her, looking to see if she’ll retaliate or turn back around.

“Looks like you need someone to show you a good time,” another man says, his voice sounding like he is whispering in her ear causing her to scream and take off running.

She runs down the street as the group of men behind her laugh loudly, unaware that they are not chasing her. She pushes herself hard, tears streaming down her face and sobs escaping out of her mouth. She takes turn after turn not paying attention to where she is running. Her heightened fear blinds her as she turns down an alleyway and runs straight into Richmond Forest Park.

Her tears distort her vision and she fails to see the exposed root sticking up from the ground as her foot catches on it, pulling her to the ground quickly and painfully. Her ankle throbs and heats up while her left side of her face stings from hitting the sticks and rocks on the ground. Her sobbing intensifies and she tries to get up as her body sends pulses of pain throughout.

She looks behind her to see where the men are, and she frowns when she does not see them. Her breathing slows down when she realises, she is not in any immediate danger. Lying back down on the cold, hard ground, she takes in deep breaths. After a few minutes, she wipes away her tears before pulling herself up into a sitting position. Her ankle throbs in pain, but Lauren just ignores it as she takes in her surroundings.

Not too far ahead of where she is, she sees a duffle bag stuffed under a bush, half of it sticking out. Frowning, she hops up from the ground and walks over to it. Her ankle throbbing with each step before easing off as she kneels in front of the bush. She reaches out and pulls on the bag strap, freeing it from under the bush.

She loses balances as it lets go easily and falls onto her bottom. Taking a deep breath, this time to keep her frustration down, she picks herself back up onto her knees. Looking at the bag in front of her, she wipes off fallen leaves from the bag before reaching for the zipper. The sound of the zipper is loud in the quiet forest and makes Lauren’s heart beat faster. Once the bag is fully opened, her mouth opens in shock.

Money. Piles and piles of money is stashed inside and Lauren struggles to breathe. Hesitatively, she reaches forward and pulls out a stack. Counting it, she realises the stack contains one thousand dollars. Reaching into the bag again, she pulls out stack after stack. In the end, Lauren has pulled twenty stacks out of the bag.

She covers her mouth with her hand. Quickly looking back into the bag for anything else, she sees something black and small at the bottom. Reaching in, Lauren pulls out a little black book. Bringing it closer to herself, she opens it but can’t see anything written inside. Confused, she puts the little black book back inside the bag and looks at the money again.

Her mind is already made up, but she takes a look around to make sure there is no one lurking. Not seeing anyone, she bites her lip before quickly stacking the money back into the bag and zipping it up. Pulling it over her shoulder, she stands up, the pain in her ankle forgotten.

“No one will ever know,” she says to herself before she starts walking again to head back home.