Terrifying Holloween story
I see him walk towards me, determined. He takes the empty seat across from mine. "you drunk?" he slurs. I steel myself against any reaction. We are two of the only four people on this car. My head turns to stare out the window. Naked branches dance by in a flash in the streetlight nit.
"I wish I was drunk. I was high earlier, but that's worn off." Still, I refuse to acknowledge the conversaiton that is attempted.
"I could really use some head."
At this point, I can feel my entire body tense up and my stomach harden. The train slowly squeals to a stop. I jump through the open doors at the last minute and circle on to the next car. It is empty and he sees me through the glass. A fist slammed against the divide serves as my warning that I have been noticed. The train begins to slow again, and I prepare for the next round of leap-frog. I jump out and into the next car. Three young males, about 21 years old, sit towards the front of the car. I move up the car and take a seat next to them.
"Hey gurrlllll." The voice is thick and oily; it leaves a similar film on my skin when I hear it.
Luckily, at the next three stops, throngs of drunken frat boys and their semi-lucid dates crawl aboard. They stand between me and him.
My stop is next. I nonchalantly grab my purse straps and prepare to quickly deboard. He's taken in conversation with several vapid bundles clad in fishnets and fedoras. I make my move. The doors open and I jetison myself from them. The next several portions of the station are done in a sprint. I do not look behind me, for I fear I will see him and admit how frightened I am. My hand clutches at the phone in my pocket. As soon as I am above ground, I can call for assistance, should I need it.
My race to the top stops halfway up the escalator, as I stop to catch my breath and dial the number I may need.
"I didn't mean to scare you." The words prickle up my neck like icesicles. For a moment I feel light headed and fight to remain calm.
"I go to Howard. I live near by. Sorry if I scared you. I was kidding around. When I saw you skipped trains, I wanted to let you know I meant no harm. By the time I moved, I realized how it all must look. My name is Eric. Nice to meet you..."
"I'm not giving you my name. Good evening."
I see the top of the escalator and move quickly. In a mad dash, I make it back to my room without incident. Now within the confines of my room, I relax.
True story. Happy Halloween.
In other news, one of my sheltered roommates, Mary Ellen, made out with two different guys and was fingered on the dance floor. This is the breaking news she shares with me as I get to the door. She dressed as a "dirty pirate hooker" tonight. After her confession, she made a comment about how disappointed the sisters at the convent would be where she went to high school.. Funny thing: she's not Catholic, she's Presbyterian. Just goes to prove the effectiveness of Catholic guilt.
"I wish I was drunk. I was high earlier, but that's worn off." Still, I refuse to acknowledge the conversaiton that is attempted.
"I could really use some head."
At this point, I can feel my entire body tense up and my stomach harden. The train slowly squeals to a stop. I jump through the open doors at the last minute and circle on to the next car. It is empty and he sees me through the glass. A fist slammed against the divide serves as my warning that I have been noticed. The train begins to slow again, and I prepare for the next round of leap-frog. I jump out and into the next car. Three young males, about 21 years old, sit towards the front of the car. I move up the car and take a seat next to them.
"Hey gurrlllll." The voice is thick and oily; it leaves a similar film on my skin when I hear it.
Luckily, at the next three stops, throngs of drunken frat boys and their semi-lucid dates crawl aboard. They stand between me and him.
My stop is next. I nonchalantly grab my purse straps and prepare to quickly deboard. He's taken in conversation with several vapid bundles clad in fishnets and fedoras. I make my move. The doors open and I jetison myself from them. The next several portions of the station are done in a sprint. I do not look behind me, for I fear I will see him and admit how frightened I am. My hand clutches at the phone in my pocket. As soon as I am above ground, I can call for assistance, should I need it.
My race to the top stops halfway up the escalator, as I stop to catch my breath and dial the number I may need.
"I didn't mean to scare you." The words prickle up my neck like icesicles. For a moment I feel light headed and fight to remain calm.
"I go to Howard. I live near by. Sorry if I scared you. I was kidding around. When I saw you skipped trains, I wanted to let you know I meant no harm. By the time I moved, I realized how it all must look. My name is Eric. Nice to meet you..."
"I'm not giving you my name. Good evening."
I see the top of the escalator and move quickly. In a mad dash, I make it back to my room without incident. Now within the confines of my room, I relax.
True story. Happy Halloween.
In other news, one of my sheltered roommates, Mary Ellen, made out with two different guys and was fingered on the dance floor. This is the breaking news she shares with me as I get to the door. She dressed as a "dirty pirate hooker" tonight. After her confession, she made a comment about how disappointed the sisters at the convent would be where she went to high school.. Funny thing: she's not Catholic, she's Presbyterian. Just goes to prove the effectiveness of Catholic guilt.