Life’s a Lesson for Fortune’s Fools

The slightly frigid New York night air blew against me as I clutched my thin sweater closer around me. I wish I had listened to myself and decided to take a thicker one.

I attempted to sidestep the people walking in the opposite direction, a hard task considering how packed the sidewalks were.

The neon lights of the many stores that lined the streets brought life to the night. The boisterous voices, calling for cabs and talking on phones drifted to my ears.

The squeal of tires filled the air as every now and then an ambulance would drive by, faster than the other cars as they just barely had enough time to move out of the way of the ambulance’s destructive path.

Stepping into the alley— a short cut that would get me home quicker— I glanced mournfully at the street lamps as their light did not reach the alley’s far corners. Briefly, I hesitated.

The slight hum of the jumble of voices, cars, and music became diminutive as I walked farther into the alley. My steady footsteps echoed over the concrete as I hugged my purse to my body, yet again pulling my sweater tighter around me as I did.

It wasn’t until the light that stretched from the streetlamps were no longer discernible and the sound of quick footsteps growing perceptibly louder behind me— that I realized the danger of walking alone, in a dark alley, at night.

Why the thought had not struck me earlier was oblivious to me as quickened my pace. The footfall behind me increased in speed as well as listening closer I heard the unsteadiness of the stranger’s footsteps echoing off the walls.

My imagination flew wildly as I could not see who was following me and assess the peril.
A large heavy hand fell down on my shoulder as I froze.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but is this yours?” His hand lingered on my shoulder, for longer than was necessary.

I turned around to see a middle-aged man with growing gray muzzled hair. His appearance was haggard, probably had a drink or two from his smell. In one hand he held my hat.

I patted my head gently; slightly surprised I hadn’t noticed the disappearance of my hat. “Oh!” I grasped it from his hand. “Thank you.” Though grateful, I just wished he would hasten his pace and depart.

“Not a problem. Now what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this, this late?”

“Hmm…? Oh, I’m just going home.” There was a slight edge in my voice, yet he paid no attention to it. He stepped closer as I took a step back. “I really should be going.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Even as he spoke, he took another step forward.

“Shouldn’t you, I don’t know… leave?” I was sweating. My hands were trembling. Hell, I have really bad luck.

We were getting farther away from the light of the street lamps.

I didn’t like the way he kept smiling or the malicious glint in his eyes. A smile can always lie and deceive, but eyes are the windows to the soul.

I was scared, and trapped, and he knew it.

His large frame blocked the closet exist.

I looked behind me, guessing how long of backing up it would take to get to the other end of the alley. To long I figured. He would get suspicious.

With my eyes away from his approaching silhouette, it was then he made his move, grabbing my arm.

I slowly turned my head back to him, begging myself to think of a plan, a form of escape. I finally landed my gaze at him, wide-eyed.

Some part on me was hoping that this wasn’t real, just a bad nightmare, but it was just that… hope… utterly, useless, pathetic, inept hope.

“No!” I whispered. My voice was low. I closed my eyes briefly. I just wanted to pinch myself. I wanted someone to tell me everything was going to be alright, even if they were lying through their teeth.

He clutched my arm tightly in a death gripe, pulling me deeper into the alley. I tried to tear my arm away from his grasp without success. Tears began to fall, streamed down my face, blurring my vision.

“No!” My voice was a hoarse whisper, pleading with him. Hs lips were set in a grim line.

“Someone help me!” I wouldn’t let it end like this. If I, Melanie Armstrong, was going to go down, I was going down fighting.

“No one can hear you now! Why don’t we have some fun?” He breathed on my neck, smelling strongly of alcohol. He flashed me a sly smile that chilled me to the bone. The man pulled me farther into the dark alley as I struggled against him.

I wretched free of his grasp as I took off and ran as the wind whipped my hair into my mouth. I slipped on a puddle and fell with a crash.

Again he grabbed my arm and continued to drag me along. I was crying profusely. I looked everywhere for any way of escape.

I begged. I pleaded. I cried. I whelped. All of it to no avail. He slammed me into a wall as I slid to the floor. He dragged me to my feet as he pulled me farther to my doom.

What horrible thing had I done to deserve this horrible twist of fate? I resumed my screams when I heard light footsteps getting closer.

I finally heard a voice. The welcome voice was angelic sound. Was I saved? “You can let her go.” I turned to see a man; hopefully my savior. It was too dark to clearly see his
features.

From the little light streaming in from the moonlight and the street lamp, I could tell he couldn’t be more than 21.

“Find yer' own!” The man restraining me replied. His gruff voice not at all kind, but far from it.

“Please! Help me!” I begged as I pleaded with my fearful eyes. My arms outstretched grasping thin air.

“Shudd' up bitch!” The man holding me yelled as he backhanded me.

The mysterious man sighed and swiftly walked closer to us. He easily picked up my captor by the collar, making him lose his grip on me.

I crawled a few feet away from them, too weak to stand, cowering close to the wall of the brick building. I brought a hand to my throbbing head.

I pulled away when I felt something warm and sticky touch my fingers. I looked at my hand and saw blood.

“If I were you I would run now, and forget you ever met me, or her.” He gestured to me as he growled at my captor who now cowered in fear. He dropped the man who wasted no time in running away, tripping over his own two feet.

Was I in more danger than I was before? I weary asked myself this as my hero walked towards me. This mysterious person crouched to my level. “Are you alright?” his voice echoed as I began to see spots in my peripheral view.

I tried to say something —anything. My lips were dry and cracked. My throat was sore from all my screaming, leaving me unable to utter my undeniable gratitude. My eye lids weighed a ton as I struggled to keep them open.

“Are you alright?” I heard an angelic voice ask, but I didn’t get a chance to reply. I swayed dangerously to the side as my vision blurred.

“Will you save me?” I asked. My voice was a low whisper as it cracked. I desultorily reached out an arm as I collapsed, my side hitting the ground hard as well as my head. I heard the sound bounce off the walls as I struggled to remain conscious as I blacked out.

Jason’s POV
I picked up the girl that lay at my feet. Her clothes, like her face, were dirty. Her hair was disheveled. Bruises were already beginning to form on her arms and her face.

Her forehead was bleeding also, but not too much, the injuries she had sustained weren’t too bad. I laid her back on the ground as I tore my sleeve of and tied it around her head for a makeshift bandage.

I picked her up again as I walked away. I couldn’t leave her like this. To leave her unconscious right after I had saved her, to be an unwilling victim to someone else? I sighed. What have I gotten myself into?

I thought back to her words. “Will you save me?” I scoffed. I was hardly even capable of saving myself.

“Do you trust me?” I spoke to no one in particular as my voice echoed, bouncing off the walls, countering her question with a question of my own.

I walked through the alley with her in my arms.

One thing I had learned is trust is a strange thing. It could take years to build up, and break in the shortest amount of time.