Friday, January 13, 2012

Empty and Alone

The pale moon lingered in the almost morning sky.

She waited on the corner, her dark crimson trench coat doing its job keeping the rain off of the new black dress she wore beneath. Her hands held tight onto either side of the collar, holding them up against her face.

A brisk wind turned the rain sideways so it attacked her from above and on the left. She moved back away from the yellow curb into a dank doorway. The shadows dressed her crimson coat into a darker shade, but the street light above kept her matching shoes and the tip of her coat their normal color. She wished she would have at least brought along her hat. Her blonde hair soaked lying against her shoulders. She thought back on what her hair looked like before she left the apartment.

The bells rang. Pigeons flew away from the bell tower across the street. The largest of the old hands was facing up while the smallest hand pointed towards "4". She shook her head. He was late. He was always late. Later this time. Later than ever before.

The bells rang four long times and then it stopped. The quiet sounds of the rain hitting the pavement was all that was left. Then a low hum of an engine.

She didn't look as the lights glanced past her.

He wouldn't have been so dumb to leave the lights on. Not these days. Not with "Them" watching.

She looked again at the clock.


It didn't feel like an hour had passed. It was getting colder. She could feel the cold air freezing her face and ears. She pressed the sides of her collar even tighter against her face. She couldn't get enough of her face into the collar. Moments later the soft sound of the rain was gone and the street fell silent.

White flakes of snow started to fall from the darkened sky.

Another hum coming from down the street. No sign of anything coming her way. The hum grew closer.

It was him. It had to be.

The silver car rolled up in front of her.

Finally she smiled and moved quickly to the car. She bent over to look in the window as she pulled open the door.

It’s not him.

She shrieked as she was taken from behind. A hood placed over her head. Her hands bound behind her back.

Where did they come from?

The smell inside of the car. It was smoke. Cigar smoke.

It was “Them”.

She felt her coat buttons pop from their place as they ripped her coat apart. Her black dress hid her in the darkness of the car until they passed under streetlights. The world was dark to her nonetheless. She kept her eyes closed as she lay there with the hood over her face. She tried to squirm.

Hands held her down. Strong hands.

Why did she wait so long? They had a plan. If he wasn’t there by 3, she was to go home.

Too late for that now. The stench in the car was worse than just cigar smoke. Even under the hood she could smell it. She gagged on the smell alone.

What they going to do with her. She heard noises. Bodies rustling around in the car around her. Her dress was pushed up her legs. She tried to kick. No. Where was he? Why didn’t he show up?

She felt the penetration. She cried out.


The weight on top of her as she cried out felt heavier than what she imagined a car might feel like on top of her. Each time his body collided against hers a tear rolled down her face.

Why didn't he show up?

The man on top of her was done. He pulled away and she felt empty.

She felt the car stop. The door was opened. She was pulled by her legs. She fell to the ground hard.

The door closed and the hum of the car faded in the morning.

She worked her hands free and removed the hood.

The clock rang its long chimes; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven times.

Her heart sank.

She was empty.

And alone.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

It's Time

It's Time

It wasn’t her time.

She knew it wasn’t her time and yet it felt like her life was coming to an end. The paddles of the ceiling fan above her were whispered into the shadows of the room. The lights were off. Only the pale light of the moon showing through the windows illuminated her naked skin as she lie on her bed naked. Her body glistened with sweat. She hadn’t done any physical activity yet. The heat was just unbearable.

She wipes her hands over her supple breasts taking the droplets of sweat with it. Her nipples both hard. She missed the cold air as much as she missed the touch of a man.

She was going to get her chance though soon. At a man.

As she lay on her back, she watched the white fan paddles rotating in the black darkness of the ceiling. Her heart felt like it was skipping beats to the hum of the fan.

It wasn’t her time.


With the sun down he thought it would have been cooler by now. The heat didn’t affect him much. It wasn’t the important thing to worry about tonight. There was something more. She was already at her apartment. He had to get there and finish his assignment.

The call came last night.

He has been following her since. Deciding the best time to make his move.

It had to be soon. Before the sun came up. It had to be over before the night came to a close.

He stood outside the building. There were no lights on in her windows. She couldn’t have gone out already. He was right behind her when she went in. There wasn’t a back way out. She was there he knew it.

It had to be now.


Was it her time?

She still felt it was. The air seemed to change. She knew the man had followed her. She knew he was standing outside. He wasn’t out there any longer. That’s when the air changed. When he entered the building. His presence sucked the air out of the building. That or it was getting hotter. Even without the sun shining.

It was her time.

The floor creaked just outside of her door. Her heart was beating faster than the white blades above her now. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until a long rush of air was finally exhaled. She gripped her left breast with her right hand.

This was it.

It was time.


The tip of the cigarette in his mouth glowed brightly in the dark. He was outside her door now. The floor creaked beneath his feet and he swore through the cigarette. The smoke drifted towards the ceiling. He took another drag, and then flicked the butt down the hall. No regard where the butt landed.

He was going to do this.

It was her time.

He listened a moment at the door. No movement inside. He smashed down the door with a swift kick to its center. The old wooden door crumbled under the force of his foot.

This will be easy.

She didn’t scream when he burst in the door. She didn’t even flinch. Her head turned towards him and her eyes looked accepting.

Too easy.

He released the knife from its hiding place at his back. Wedged in his belt. Slowly he pulled it to his side with a grin on his face.


His dark coat blended in with the darkness that surrounded him. The only thing she could see now was his white shirt showing from behind his coat and the gleaming knife at his side.

She gasped. He lunged at her.

She fell against the mattress with him on top of her.

She didn’t scream. Her hand wrapped around his wrist. She saw it. The one with the knife, it was in her hand. She did all she could to keep his arm far from her body.

He was strong.

Stronger than her.

His hand drew closer to her body. She couldn’t push him away any more.

This was it. It truly was her time.

She struggled. He pushed. She turned. He twisted. She pulled.

The knife sliced deep. Dug further.

It was sharp.

A gasp.

Then nothing.

She let out a small whimper. She pushed his body off of hers. It fell limp to the floor.

It wasn't her time. It was his.