Yes

Just keep walking…

I jerked my head forwards once again.

Whatever the two guys had yelled at me, I had to just keep walking. I considered running for a moment.

Should I scream?

I knew I shouldn’t have taken that shortcut through West Ave. I looked down at my legs that were only covered with a thin layer of nylon. My muscles were tense and the fabric loosely skidded up and down the goosebumps that quickly became more and more visible. I was horrified. All of the precautions and scheduling seemed to have scattered on the concrete floor together with my phone.

Fucking iPhones; unreliable little shits!

“Pecadora, wait for us!” a dark voice yelled again. The male voices, with heavy Hispanic accents, had come closer now; the two men were maybe only a couple of meters away.
I started running.

First when I had slammed and locked the door to my apartment I started crying.
My veins were pumping adrenalin as hard as they could while my heart was racing, which made my chest ache with a painful heat that seemed to want to make my blood boil over. I kicked my boots off and ran for the toilet.

My skin trembled as the acid fluids were forced out of me with a numbing speed. Never in my life had I ever been that scared for my life. It had felt as if all the choices I had made concerning me moving to New York and pursuing a career as an actress were turning against me; as if all the things my parents had said and done to keep me from following my dreams suddenly became a face-on reality.

“Please don’t give up on your life like that. You know it’ll never work out. New York is too big and too dangerous. Stay here and continue taking your bachelor…”

I shrugged. My mom’s pleading words sounded in my ears followed by visions of my dad’s accusing glare.

“Fuck,” I mumbled to myself as I finally was able to sit down on the cold tiles of my bathroom floor.

My life in New York hadn’t really worked out as I had planned – or as I had hoped it would. Only one single – and lousy - acting job, almost no money and a broken phone. Oh, and not to forget, the almost-got-raped situation I had just been through.

I couldn’t help but to sob loudly; my parents were right, weren’t they?

I let my eyes fall down to my body. All the layers of clothing that had looked so good on me a few hours ago now looked all out of place and with several scattered stains of puke on them.

It reminded me of those women you see on the streets: they try to look rich and glamorous but everyone can easily see that it’s all for show: they’re probably drug addicts or mothers with a lousy income trying to find some rich guy they can marry and suck money out of.

Kinda like New York…

It looks so desirable and trendy but deep down it’s all scum, concrete and creepy guys.

I dragged my feet from the bathroom across the wooden floor just to let myself drop on the best thing about my apartment: my bed. The calming scent of vanilla and cigarette smoke airing from the sheets quickly had my nerves dulled.

My cheeks were sticky from the mixture of mascara and salty tears that had streamed down and left traces of panic. Not wanting to open my sore eyes, I blindly found my way to the cigarettes and lighter laying on the nightstand. As I lit the cigarette, I inhaled the smoke slowly and kept it there.

It felt good.

The nicotine spread through my system and gradually stopped my fingers from shaking. I dreaded the night that lay ahead of me; after such a shitty day, I was almost positive the nightmares just lured in the back of my mind waiting to attack me during my sleep.

Two black haired men trying to catch me, the sound of my boots coming of the walls of the alley, their breath scented with an alcoholic aroma reaching my neck, the scent of sour garlic and bad tomatoes, leaving on me a damp feeling of being filthy. I could feel the heat from their bodies trying to reach me and force me down on the ground. Hands on my body. The cold and wet from the rain covered pavement.

Wait, had they been that close to me?

Was I dreaming already?

..........................................................

I woke up covered in sweat.
As I opened my eyes a sharp headache told me that I had been sleeping for a really long time.

A beam of sunlight reached through my heavy curtains and revealed an orange, almost pink, color of the sky. What time was it? I grabbed for my phone.

Shit!

It wasn’t there.

It was broken.

I had dropped it last night on my way home from the coffee shop, where I’d had that job interview. And I had chosen to take a shortcut through the alley down at West Ave.

Wrong fucking alley.