Just a Spoonful of Sugar, Chapter 5
Chapter 5.
Chapter 5: Mistaken Identity
In the wake of discovering the cause of her roommate’s strange behavior, it was soon revealed that Belinda’s secret was a far cry creepier than she had initially anticipated. It was not every day that a twenty-eight-year-old woman obsessed about a man as though he was a rock star. Of course this did not lessen the empathy that Tamara felt for Willy Wonka. It seemed to her that Belinda had literally gone insane with devising plans in which to show the confectioner the extent of the lust she carried for him.
These bizarre tendencies did not affect Tamara until the night before, and after having made the discovery, she found herself feeling more afraid than usual. As she was getting dressed for work that morning, she hoped that her nervousness would not come under scrutiny once she had reached the candy shop. The last thing she really needed was to lose this job, since they were so hard to come by.
After emerging from her room, Tamara discovered that the mess from the night before had still not been cleaned up. In fact, there were still signs of her roommate’s psychological state covering the table, but at least some of the items were now gone, which inclined her to believe that Belinda had already left.
Although the mass of melted chocolate had been cleaned up, there was now a small box containing about twenty of Wonka’s Marshmallow Round bars in the middle of the table. The chocolate was visible, as many of the wrappers had been removed and were now being used to write notes on. Tamara picked up one of the wrappers and upon studying it closer, she spotted her roommate’s uneven handwriting gracing the white colored inside of the wrapper.
Across the top line read the words: ‘To my beloved William, from your bride to be, Belinda’.
‘Bride to be’, she thought as an uneasy sensation lodged itself in the pit of her stomach. There was something very obtrusive in these words, and for the umpteenth time, her heart went out to Willy Wonka. If he knew of Belinda’s intentions, he would no doubt feel as nervous as she did whenever she thought about Neil.
If those written words were not enough, the candy wrappers were cut into the shape of hearts. It was completely obvious that Belinda had taken great pains to do all of these things, she thought. Yet at the same time, she could not help but ponder why it was that her roommate was so obsessed with someone that she had never even met.
This is getting scarier by the second, Tamara thought as she backed away from the table. After several seconds had passed, she could hear the sounds of her roommate’s clock radio going off in her room. She’s still here, Tamara thought as the music filled her ears. Not stopping to consider what Belinda’s schedule was at this point, Tamara practically ran over to the sofa, grabbed the scarf, her jacket, and purse before bolting from the apartment. As the door slammed closed behind her, she ran down the hall and out the front door; panic written all over her face.
She normally walked to work, her head held high, trying all the while to show people that she was not afraid. Of course, on this particular day, she was terrified and concluded that Bill would notice it the moment she walked into the shop.
As she surmised, after only being at work about twenty minutes, Bill did approach her, his expression laced with concern after she had come very close to dropping a glass container filled with lemon drops on the floor. His steady hands had literally saved her from this brush with disaster.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you seem really distracted today,” he said casually as he placed the jar on the shelf before turning and looking at her.
“I’m fine,” she said weakly. “I just didn’t get very much sleep last night.”
Accepting this as a rational explanation, Bill decided to let her wait on customers throughout much of the morning. Although that did not reap any near-misses, his observations proved that she was not doing well at all.
As the church bell chimed, thus indicating that the noon hour was upon them, Bill came over to where she was standing, his voice making her practically jump out of her skin.
“If that is any indication that you are ‘fine’ as you noted earlier, than I beg to differ,” he said firmly as he pulled the key from his pocket. “Let’s close up for lunch and have ourselves a little talk.”
She swallowed, oh God, he’s going to fire me, I just know it. The feelings were raking havoc on her mind, but instead of voicing these troubling thoughts, she watched as he shooed the last of the customers towards the door, before closing and locking it. Not knowing what to do, she nervously came around the counter and seated herself on one of the stools, her hands nervously rubbing against one another.
By this time, Bill had returned to the counter, but before he could seat himself next to her, he went over to the shelf and grabbed a Wonka Marshmallow Round. Seconds passed before he returned and seated himself next to her. Wordlessly, he slipped the candy into her hand before offering her shoulder a gentle pat.
“You always know what I need,” she whispered as she carefully opened the candy and started to nibble on the edge of it. “Thanks Bill.”
The candy seller smiled. “It’s no trouble,” he said, “but Tamara, I’m worried about you. I know there’s something on your mind, and I’m not going to take ‘I’m fine’ as an excuse anymore. You are not clumsy, but yet you nearly dropped an antique jar filled with candy this morning.”
“Y-you’re not going to fire me because of that, are you?” She asked weakly.
“No, but I am going to insist that you to talk to me. There is something on your mind, and it is more than clear to me that you need a friend,” he said. “Aside from that, you know the old saying about how a problem shared can somehow lessen the burden.”
“I don’t know where to start,” she began as she took another bite of the candy, the chocolate soothing her somewhat.
“Well, how about at the beginning?” He asked.
Swallowing the bite, she looked over at the man seated next to her. Inhaling slowly, she allowed herself to exhale as her next words emerged. “It’s my roommate.”
“Becky, is it?” He asked.
Tamara fiddled with the candy and then looked into the kind eyes of her boss. “No, it’s Belinda,” she said as her emotions were quickly getting the better of her. At that moment, she could feel the tears as they began to stream down over her face. “Oh Bill, I don’t know what to do. I discovered something really scary about her last night and now I’m too afraid to go home.”
“Why is that?” He asked.
Tamara began to tell him about what had happened the night before after she had arrived at home. She told him of everything she had seen in the dining room, but refrained from mentioning Neil and how her life somehow mirrored what Belinda was doing to Willy Wonka. As she finished speaking, he was looking at her, his gaze unwavering and his expression laced with intensity.
“Let me get this straight, you’re telling me that your roommate is stalking Willy Wonka?” Bill asked.
“I don’t know if it’s stalking,” Tamara began, her voice trembling slightly. She had heard this term used before, but for some reason she literally got chills at the thought of her and Willy being a victims of it. “Isn’t that a pretty harsh term?” She asked trying to keep her tone light, contrary to the butterflies that were rampantly flying around in her stomach.
“Tamara, what she is doing is stalking. If for any reason, Willy Wonka were to decide to leave his factory, he would probably feel rather apprehensive about walking about with someone trailing him like that. Any time someone’s actions creates a sort of restriction of freedom for another, then it could be considered ‘stalking’. I don’t even have to add that we are talking about a famous person here. It would be very easy for us to conclude that stalking is what is actually happening. Did you tell Belinda that what she was doing could be construed as awkward, strange, or even against the law?”
“I tried,” she said, her voice catching in her throat.
“She didn’t listen to you, did she?” He asked.
“No, and I couldn’t help but remember all the things you said about Mr. Wonka. It was when you told me the stories about him right after I started working here. You said that he was a kind and caring person, and now I’m really scared for him. The thing is, if you know about him being those things, then is it possible for Belinda to have misconstrued that kindness?”
“I would say that it is more than probable, but Tamara, Mr. Wonka, although a good man, is human. Don’t expect him to react to all of this in the most perfect way. He is a social recluse and may not even know how to handle what has been happening to him,” Bill said. “Some people do like to be in control of their surroundings, and I imagine that he is that way himself.”
“What should I do?” She asked.
“I’m afraid that there’s nothing you can do,” Bill said. “You could go to the police, but that may not help since it’s going to be your word against Belinda’s. The thing that will probably need to be done is for Willy Wonka to go there himself and get a restraining order. That may be the only way for him to find any peace of mind in all of this.”
“But, I still have to live with her,” she whispered.
Bill thought for several moments and then took a deep breath. “This may not help very much, but why don’t you go home, grab some of your things, and go stay at a bed and breakfast for a few days. You need a break from all of this, Tamara. If going home scares you to the extent that you indicated, then you need to find a place where you will feel safe. The only thing I can do is give you two days off, but I really need you back here by Friday, OK?”
“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice emerging somewhat unconvincingly.
Instead of pressing the issue, the candy seller got off the stool that he was sitting on and went over to the door and unlocked it.
Tamara followed him, but before leaving, she looked at him, her eyes watery. “I’ll see you in two days, but not a second sooner,” he said gently as he gave her shoulder a fatherly squeeze. “Get yourself sorted out and then you can be back in time to help me with the yearly inventory.”
“OK,” she smiled weakly. “I really appreciate your help, Bill.” Instead of elaborating on this, she stepped outside of the shop and momentarily stopped when she heard the door closing behind her.
Her mind was so preoccupied that she did not even realize that she had forgotten her purse back at the candy shop.
~~~~~~
About twenty minutes after having left the shop, she walked slowly down a crowded street. Deciding that she had no appetite for lunch, she continued to slowly make her way along the promenade. Above her head and hanging lazily in the sky were white puffy clouds, which somehow made her feel just a little bit more relaxed.
Distancing herself from the hustle and bustle of the inner city, she soon reached the outskirts of town. It was her favorite part of the town, quiet and filled with solitude, but there was enough going on that she did not feel ill at ease.
She ran her hand casually through her short blonde hair as she walked in the direction of Willy Wonka’s factory. She did not know why it was she was even going there instead of heeding her boss’ suggestion about going home and packing. In the back of her mind, however, she could hear the sounds of her father telling her that she should cease running away and try and face the situations that scared her. Of course, she had realized long ago, that everything that had been happening to her was a far cry more than just scary.
It was no secret that Tamara was frightened by what she had heard, but she was also apprehensive at the prospect of going home alone and running the risk of another confrontation with her roommate. One thing was perfectly clear; what Belinda was doing was neither fun nor flattering, instead, it was pretty terrifying.
As she came closer to the factory, her unhidden panic seemed to be mounting by leaps and bounds. A small blob of red immediately caught her attention from several meters away, but as she reached the gate, her eyes widened.
On the thick metal bars that extended vertically from the top of the gate to the ground, hung about ten red heart-shaped balloons. The blue papers that she had seen from the shredded wrappers of Slugworth bars were visible beneath the walls of the translucent objects. Next to them, and carefully hanging, were the candy wrappers that she had seen the night before as well as that morning.
“Oh Belinda, why in God’s name are you doing this?” She asked the stillness.
As the resonances of her voice rang in her ears, she could detect the rising anxiety inside of her. She stared transfixed at the balloons and watched as they drifted about with each gust of wind.
Her breathing began to feel heavy as she recalled similar actions being pulled by Neil during the days that followed her breaking up with him.
Feeling the shock and fear wash over her, she reached towards the knot that bound the first balloon to the gate. With trembling fingers, she read the card that hung from the streamer that was tied to it. “If I can’t have you, then no one should,” were the words she read.
“Oh my God,” she whispered under her breath as she dropped the card and tried to loosen the object from the gate.
When she discovered that it was bound too tightly, she stopped and pulled her hand away. She was simply not in the proper frame of mind to contend with this.
Giving up on the task, she started to back slowly away from the gate; her head now lowered to such an extent that she did not see someone had stepped out of the shadows and was now slowly following her.
Unaware of what was happening around her, Tamara began to walk down the sidewalk that led her back in the direction of her and Belinda’s apartment building. Feeling the need to get her thoughts straight, she started to follow the path that led away from the sidewalk. It extended down a quiet dirt road that ran along the southern side of the factory grounds and separated it from a nearby park.
Generally it was not a very safe road to take when it was dark outside, but in broad daylight she felt that it was alright. This way she could find a patch of grass to sit down on and try and sort all of this out. That way she would be able to do so without strangers walking by and staring at her.
As she reached the quiet intersection and turned left down the dirt road, she could see that the high wall of the factory loomed to one side, but the light from the sun still shone down on her, the rays almost directly overhead.
She continued to walk, her steps slow and deliberate. Eventually stopping, she rubbed her face with her hands. Along the shadows that lined the walls, she did not see anything out of the ordinary until someone approached where she was standing, reached out, and grabbed her shoulder in a vice-like grip.
Without thinking about what had happened, she screamed, but when she turned around and saw the familiar face of the man she had met several days before, she relaxed somewhat. “Oh my God, it’s you,” she said, her voice laced with relief. “You just about scared me to death. What are you doing out here?”
The man said nothing, instead, his grip on her shoulder tightened, his eyes emoting something that resembled a mix between resentment and hostility.
Seeing this, Tamara tried to pull herself out of the hold. “Please, let go, you’re hurting me.” As her voice broke through the stillness of the area, she managed to pull herself out of the man’s grasp. Once she was free, she started to run away from him, the shock and fright filling her. When she glanced behind her, the first thing that she noticed was that he was coming after her and gaining quickly.
Within seconds Tamara abruptly felt her body being tripped up by some sort of object. Hitting the ground, she immediately tried to crawl away, but the man reacted quickly, grabbed her foot, and roughly pulled her towards him.
As soon as she could sense that he was next to her on the ground, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. As the panic filled her, she spoke, her voice emerging as a soft plea. “Please, don’t hurt me…”
The man said nothing, instead, he cast a glance around the area and upon seeing that they were alone, he pulled her upper torso up so that her head would rested against his chest. Holding her there with one of his arms, he wordlessly reached into his pocket with his other hand and extracted a piece of cloth. He shook it out before taking it and pressing it over her nose and mouth.
As she felt this against her face, she tried to keep from inhaling, but soon found herself gasping as she tried to take in a breath. Once this had happened, she was suddenly engulfed in a fragrance that emitted the strange scents that were a mixture between coffee and chocolate. Seconds passed and dizziness suddenly overwhelmed her and her body completely relaxed in the stranger’s hold.
What is going to happen to me now? This final question washed over her as she lost consciousness.
Chapter 5: Mistaken Identity
In the wake of discovering the cause of her roommate’s strange behavior, it was soon revealed that Belinda’s secret was a far cry creepier than she had initially anticipated. It was not every day that a twenty-eight-year-old woman obsessed about a man as though he was a rock star. Of course this did not lessen the empathy that Tamara felt for Willy Wonka. It seemed to her that Belinda had literally gone insane with devising plans in which to show the confectioner the extent of the lust she carried for him.
These bizarre tendencies did not affect Tamara until the night before, and after having made the discovery, she found herself feeling more afraid than usual. As she was getting dressed for work that morning, she hoped that her nervousness would not come under scrutiny once she had reached the candy shop. The last thing she really needed was to lose this job, since they were so hard to come by.
After emerging from her room, Tamara discovered that the mess from the night before had still not been cleaned up. In fact, there were still signs of her roommate’s psychological state covering the table, but at least some of the items were now gone, which inclined her to believe that Belinda had already left.
Although the mass of melted chocolate had been cleaned up, there was now a small box containing about twenty of Wonka’s Marshmallow Round bars in the middle of the table. The chocolate was visible, as many of the wrappers had been removed and were now being used to write notes on. Tamara picked up one of the wrappers and upon studying it closer, she spotted her roommate’s uneven handwriting gracing the white colored inside of the wrapper.
Across the top line read the words: ‘To my beloved William, from your bride to be, Belinda’.
‘Bride to be’, she thought as an uneasy sensation lodged itself in the pit of her stomach. There was something very obtrusive in these words, and for the umpteenth time, her heart went out to Willy Wonka. If he knew of Belinda’s intentions, he would no doubt feel as nervous as she did whenever she thought about Neil.
If those written words were not enough, the candy wrappers were cut into the shape of hearts. It was completely obvious that Belinda had taken great pains to do all of these things, she thought. Yet at the same time, she could not help but ponder why it was that her roommate was so obsessed with someone that she had never even met.
This is getting scarier by the second, Tamara thought as she backed away from the table. After several seconds had passed, she could hear the sounds of her roommate’s clock radio going off in her room. She’s still here, Tamara thought as the music filled her ears. Not stopping to consider what Belinda’s schedule was at this point, Tamara practically ran over to the sofa, grabbed the scarf, her jacket, and purse before bolting from the apartment. As the door slammed closed behind her, she ran down the hall and out the front door; panic written all over her face.
She normally walked to work, her head held high, trying all the while to show people that she was not afraid. Of course, on this particular day, she was terrified and concluded that Bill would notice it the moment she walked into the shop.
As she surmised, after only being at work about twenty minutes, Bill did approach her, his expression laced with concern after she had come very close to dropping a glass container filled with lemon drops on the floor. His steady hands had literally saved her from this brush with disaster.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you seem really distracted today,” he said casually as he placed the jar on the shelf before turning and looking at her.
“I’m fine,” she said weakly. “I just didn’t get very much sleep last night.”
Accepting this as a rational explanation, Bill decided to let her wait on customers throughout much of the morning. Although that did not reap any near-misses, his observations proved that she was not doing well at all.
As the church bell chimed, thus indicating that the noon hour was upon them, Bill came over to where she was standing, his voice making her practically jump out of her skin.
“If that is any indication that you are ‘fine’ as you noted earlier, than I beg to differ,” he said firmly as he pulled the key from his pocket. “Let’s close up for lunch and have ourselves a little talk.”
She swallowed, oh God, he’s going to fire me, I just know it. The feelings were raking havoc on her mind, but instead of voicing these troubling thoughts, she watched as he shooed the last of the customers towards the door, before closing and locking it. Not knowing what to do, she nervously came around the counter and seated herself on one of the stools, her hands nervously rubbing against one another.
By this time, Bill had returned to the counter, but before he could seat himself next to her, he went over to the shelf and grabbed a Wonka Marshmallow Round. Seconds passed before he returned and seated himself next to her. Wordlessly, he slipped the candy into her hand before offering her shoulder a gentle pat.
“You always know what I need,” she whispered as she carefully opened the candy and started to nibble on the edge of it. “Thanks Bill.”
The candy seller smiled. “It’s no trouble,” he said, “but Tamara, I’m worried about you. I know there’s something on your mind, and I’m not going to take ‘I’m fine’ as an excuse anymore. You are not clumsy, but yet you nearly dropped an antique jar filled with candy this morning.”
“Y-you’re not going to fire me because of that, are you?” She asked weakly.
“No, but I am going to insist that you to talk to me. There is something on your mind, and it is more than clear to me that you need a friend,” he said. “Aside from that, you know the old saying about how a problem shared can somehow lessen the burden.”
“I don’t know where to start,” she began as she took another bite of the candy, the chocolate soothing her somewhat.
“Well, how about at the beginning?” He asked.
Swallowing the bite, she looked over at the man seated next to her. Inhaling slowly, she allowed herself to exhale as her next words emerged. “It’s my roommate.”
“Becky, is it?” He asked.
Tamara fiddled with the candy and then looked into the kind eyes of her boss. “No, it’s Belinda,” she said as her emotions were quickly getting the better of her. At that moment, she could feel the tears as they began to stream down over her face. “Oh Bill, I don’t know what to do. I discovered something really scary about her last night and now I’m too afraid to go home.”
“Why is that?” He asked.
Tamara began to tell him about what had happened the night before after she had arrived at home. She told him of everything she had seen in the dining room, but refrained from mentioning Neil and how her life somehow mirrored what Belinda was doing to Willy Wonka. As she finished speaking, he was looking at her, his gaze unwavering and his expression laced with intensity.
“Let me get this straight, you’re telling me that your roommate is stalking Willy Wonka?” Bill asked.
“I don’t know if it’s stalking,” Tamara began, her voice trembling slightly. She had heard this term used before, but for some reason she literally got chills at the thought of her and Willy being a victims of it. “Isn’t that a pretty harsh term?” She asked trying to keep her tone light, contrary to the butterflies that were rampantly flying around in her stomach.
“Tamara, what she is doing is stalking. If for any reason, Willy Wonka were to decide to leave his factory, he would probably feel rather apprehensive about walking about with someone trailing him like that. Any time someone’s actions creates a sort of restriction of freedom for another, then it could be considered ‘stalking’. I don’t even have to add that we are talking about a famous person here. It would be very easy for us to conclude that stalking is what is actually happening. Did you tell Belinda that what she was doing could be construed as awkward, strange, or even against the law?”
“I tried,” she said, her voice catching in her throat.
“She didn’t listen to you, did she?” He asked.
“No, and I couldn’t help but remember all the things you said about Mr. Wonka. It was when you told me the stories about him right after I started working here. You said that he was a kind and caring person, and now I’m really scared for him. The thing is, if you know about him being those things, then is it possible for Belinda to have misconstrued that kindness?”
“I would say that it is more than probable, but Tamara, Mr. Wonka, although a good man, is human. Don’t expect him to react to all of this in the most perfect way. He is a social recluse and may not even know how to handle what has been happening to him,” Bill said. “Some people do like to be in control of their surroundings, and I imagine that he is that way himself.”
“What should I do?” She asked.
“I’m afraid that there’s nothing you can do,” Bill said. “You could go to the police, but that may not help since it’s going to be your word against Belinda’s. The thing that will probably need to be done is for Willy Wonka to go there himself and get a restraining order. That may be the only way for him to find any peace of mind in all of this.”
“But, I still have to live with her,” she whispered.
Bill thought for several moments and then took a deep breath. “This may not help very much, but why don’t you go home, grab some of your things, and go stay at a bed and breakfast for a few days. You need a break from all of this, Tamara. If going home scares you to the extent that you indicated, then you need to find a place where you will feel safe. The only thing I can do is give you two days off, but I really need you back here by Friday, OK?”
“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice emerging somewhat unconvincingly.
Instead of pressing the issue, the candy seller got off the stool that he was sitting on and went over to the door and unlocked it.
Tamara followed him, but before leaving, she looked at him, her eyes watery. “I’ll see you in two days, but not a second sooner,” he said gently as he gave her shoulder a fatherly squeeze. “Get yourself sorted out and then you can be back in time to help me with the yearly inventory.”
“OK,” she smiled weakly. “I really appreciate your help, Bill.” Instead of elaborating on this, she stepped outside of the shop and momentarily stopped when she heard the door closing behind her.
Her mind was so preoccupied that she did not even realize that she had forgotten her purse back at the candy shop.
~~~~~~
About twenty minutes after having left the shop, she walked slowly down a crowded street. Deciding that she had no appetite for lunch, she continued to slowly make her way along the promenade. Above her head and hanging lazily in the sky were white puffy clouds, which somehow made her feel just a little bit more relaxed.
Distancing herself from the hustle and bustle of the inner city, she soon reached the outskirts of town. It was her favorite part of the town, quiet and filled with solitude, but there was enough going on that she did not feel ill at ease.
She ran her hand casually through her short blonde hair as she walked in the direction of Willy Wonka’s factory. She did not know why it was she was even going there instead of heeding her boss’ suggestion about going home and packing. In the back of her mind, however, she could hear the sounds of her father telling her that she should cease running away and try and face the situations that scared her. Of course, she had realized long ago, that everything that had been happening to her was a far cry more than just scary.
It was no secret that Tamara was frightened by what she had heard, but she was also apprehensive at the prospect of going home alone and running the risk of another confrontation with her roommate. One thing was perfectly clear; what Belinda was doing was neither fun nor flattering, instead, it was pretty terrifying.
As she came closer to the factory, her unhidden panic seemed to be mounting by leaps and bounds. A small blob of red immediately caught her attention from several meters away, but as she reached the gate, her eyes widened.
On the thick metal bars that extended vertically from the top of the gate to the ground, hung about ten red heart-shaped balloons. The blue papers that she had seen from the shredded wrappers of Slugworth bars were visible beneath the walls of the translucent objects. Next to them, and carefully hanging, were the candy wrappers that she had seen the night before as well as that morning.
“Oh Belinda, why in God’s name are you doing this?” She asked the stillness.
As the resonances of her voice rang in her ears, she could detect the rising anxiety inside of her. She stared transfixed at the balloons and watched as they drifted about with each gust of wind.
Her breathing began to feel heavy as she recalled similar actions being pulled by Neil during the days that followed her breaking up with him.
Feeling the shock and fear wash over her, she reached towards the knot that bound the first balloon to the gate. With trembling fingers, she read the card that hung from the streamer that was tied to it. “If I can’t have you, then no one should,” were the words she read.
“Oh my God,” she whispered under her breath as she dropped the card and tried to loosen the object from the gate.
When she discovered that it was bound too tightly, she stopped and pulled her hand away. She was simply not in the proper frame of mind to contend with this.
Giving up on the task, she started to back slowly away from the gate; her head now lowered to such an extent that she did not see someone had stepped out of the shadows and was now slowly following her.
Unaware of what was happening around her, Tamara began to walk down the sidewalk that led her back in the direction of her and Belinda’s apartment building. Feeling the need to get her thoughts straight, she started to follow the path that led away from the sidewalk. It extended down a quiet dirt road that ran along the southern side of the factory grounds and separated it from a nearby park.
Generally it was not a very safe road to take when it was dark outside, but in broad daylight she felt that it was alright. This way she could find a patch of grass to sit down on and try and sort all of this out. That way she would be able to do so without strangers walking by and staring at her.
As she reached the quiet intersection and turned left down the dirt road, she could see that the high wall of the factory loomed to one side, but the light from the sun still shone down on her, the rays almost directly overhead.
She continued to walk, her steps slow and deliberate. Eventually stopping, she rubbed her face with her hands. Along the shadows that lined the walls, she did not see anything out of the ordinary until someone approached where she was standing, reached out, and grabbed her shoulder in a vice-like grip.
Without thinking about what had happened, she screamed, but when she turned around and saw the familiar face of the man she had met several days before, she relaxed somewhat. “Oh my God, it’s you,” she said, her voice laced with relief. “You just about scared me to death. What are you doing out here?”
The man said nothing, instead, his grip on her shoulder tightened, his eyes emoting something that resembled a mix between resentment and hostility.
Seeing this, Tamara tried to pull herself out of the hold. “Please, let go, you’re hurting me.” As her voice broke through the stillness of the area, she managed to pull herself out of the man’s grasp. Once she was free, she started to run away from him, the shock and fright filling her. When she glanced behind her, the first thing that she noticed was that he was coming after her and gaining quickly.
Within seconds Tamara abruptly felt her body being tripped up by some sort of object. Hitting the ground, she immediately tried to crawl away, but the man reacted quickly, grabbed her foot, and roughly pulled her towards him.
As soon as she could sense that he was next to her on the ground, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. As the panic filled her, she spoke, her voice emerging as a soft plea. “Please, don’t hurt me…”
The man said nothing, instead, he cast a glance around the area and upon seeing that they were alone, he pulled her upper torso up so that her head would rested against his chest. Holding her there with one of his arms, he wordlessly reached into his pocket with his other hand and extracted a piece of cloth. He shook it out before taking it and pressing it over her nose and mouth.
As she felt this against her face, she tried to keep from inhaling, but soon found herself gasping as she tried to take in a breath. Once this had happened, she was suddenly engulfed in a fragrance that emitted the strange scents that were a mixture between coffee and chocolate. Seconds passed and dizziness suddenly overwhelmed her and her body completely relaxed in the stranger’s hold.
What is going to happen to me now? This final question washed over her as she lost consciousness.