Wasted

Light snow blanketed the streets, causing the bitter Chicago wind seem even colder. Lauren Evans shuddered and pulled the thick jacket closer to her shivering frame to conserve heat. Her heart thumped wildly against her chest as she watched the lumbering shadow behind her trail even closer. Silently, she willed her breathing to calm, slowly inhaling and exhaling through her nose.

She searched the empty street for any sign of nightlife, and for the first time since she moved, it held none. No thug teens out on the corner selling their narcotics, no jogging woman with a leashed dog by her side- nothing. She tugged her lip between straight teeth as she contemplated her options: she could either keep at her pace now, slow and steady, not alarming the person behind her and cause them to run after her, or she could run herself and make it to her apartment, which she could now see, faster.

Just a little further.

She turned slightly to the side hoping to get a glance at the man behind her for her call to the police when she finally found the comfort of her home, but the hood from his jacket hung over his darkened features, hindering her to make a complete visualization- everything except the sinister grin that formed on his cracked lips.

She flinched outwardly, quickly deciding to pull her purse to her chest and dig for the pepper spray that took up residency on the bottom of her bag- the small bottle fit snugly in her clammy hand. She gripped the cross hanging from the chain on her neck with her left hand, sending up a silent prayer before she stopped to turn toward the stranger.

"What do you want from me?"

"Shut up," he pointed a long finger at her. "Don't make a sound."

She shivered, and this time not from the cold, when he got within arms reach. Quickly she took a deep breath and aimed the nozzle of the bottle toward him almost smiling as liquid fire dampened his eyes. He howled, hunching forward and clawed at his eyes when the burning overtook him; she took this as her chance to run.

The thin heels on her feet clacked against the frozen pavement and prevented her from moving as quickly as she could have, but still she continued to stumble toward the old brick building perched on the corner. She reach her arm out, her fingers stretching to grasp the door handle when she got close enough. Just as her hand wrapped around the cold metal she was promptly ripped away from it.

She felt the bones in her wrist pull slightly apart as she attempted to keep her grip on the door, but that was a losing battle. She fought against him kicking and screaming. She balled her hand into a fist and hit him hard in his chest, crying out as she felt a stab of pain in her wrist. He turned her around harshly, pinning her against the wall.

"What'd I say, little girl?" His wide eyes, reddened from the irritation, were watching her wildly. "What'd I tell you?"

She turned her head away from his vision, suddenly feeling sick, and quietly plead, "Please. Let me go."

"I don't think so."

"Help me! Hel-"

His face scrunched in anger as his open palm shredded the air, landing with a sharp smack on her cheek, the force of the hit knocked her to the ground. She scrambled up onto her hands and knees and began to crawl away. The unforgiving scrape of the concrete sidewalk scraped her knees with each movement.



A tall, thin man stood on the corner, fire in his eyes from the scene before him. He strode forward, the vein in his neck popping with each step. He was careful to not startle the girl on the ground as he moved past her and pulled the man to him by his collar. He knew who he was, he'd stopped him from pickpocketing many people in the past.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," he lied. "I was just tryin' to get some cash."

"I saw everything, man," his gravelly voice droned. "If I see you around here again you'll be sorry." He shoved the thief away and watched as he ran from the corner, never looking back. After making sure he was out of sight, he slowly turned to the girl and gave her a small, closed lipped grin.

"You alright, miss?"

"Yeah," she nodded as she clutched her wrist. "I'm okay."

"You'll need to get some ice on that," he instructed calmly. He bent down behind her and raised her to her feet gently, keeping his hand on her back to steady her. "You wanna go get checked out at the hospital?"

"No, I'd rather just go home and get some rest."

He watched her for a moment, "Alright then."

"Thanks for helping. God knows what would've happened if you didn't," she mumbled.

He gave her a sharp nod and reach into his jacket, pulling a card from an inside pocket. "You ever have any more trouble outta that guy, or anybody, you give me a call."

He watched her eyes move over the words slowly, before she turned her head back up to him. "Thank you, Mr. Voight."