Shatter .:3: Sinister:.

On the way back to my house, I tell Lira everything. She would’ve been more concerned but she was just so amused with what had happened. She tells me how she almost got killed by a drunk driver and how she chased him down and it turned out to be a very old woman. She couldn’t make herself even feign seriousness. Not to say I minded much, it was nice to be caught up in someone else’s amusement.

Once home, I go straight to my room and plop myself in bed. I refuse to do anything but sleep and eventually it crashes over me like a wave.

. . . . . . . . .
The next morning I head out to Isaac’s Ink. I know a girl there, Anne, and she said she might be able to get me a job as a receptionist. Dressed in my favorite band tee shirt, cut up and sewn up by Anne herself, and some dark blue skinny jeans I find myself looking acceptable. I take my car, my darling little green bean, and drive away, not bothering to tell my mom. She won’t be awake until after I get back.

Walking in, I assess the place. It’s small in a rather large way. The front desk is the hood of an old, old car, cut in half so between the two pieces is a glass enclosure where there are rings and rods for all kinds of piercings. Behind the front desk the entire dark purple wall is covered with tattoo designs. There are four separate cubicles for the tattoo artists to work. Each cubicle is personalized to the point where I’m not completely sure it’s a cubicle; they’re more like small homes away from home. I decide I like it. Anne runs over to me and hugs me. I hug her back and can’t contain my giggles. She’s the kind of girl you can’t help but be absolutely elated around. She’s too fun. She looks at me and smiles. “It’s my favorite band shirt.” I tell her. She laughs.

“I knew it would be.” She says giddily. I walk back and meet Isaac’s son Germane who took over the shop about three years back when his dad became ill. He instantly loves me, not even pretending to consider anyone else, and I’m not sure why. It certainly does make one feel good about themselves, though. He gives me the job much to my surprise, and I ask if I can start immediately. He says yes, with a strange relief in his voice.

“First job,” He tells me, “is to organize this if you would.” He hands me a book full of sticky notes. I smile.

“I would LOVE to.” I tell him. I sit at the front with the glass box-counter full of rings for every sort of piercing, taking a moment to look over all of them. I organize the sticky notes and record them in the little planner that the artists look at and into Germane’s own personal planner. The day passes by and it proves to be my dream job. I’m organizing things, working with numbers, talking to people, and my coworkers like me already. They’re the nicest bunch of people I’ve met in a long time. Anne couldn’t be happier to have me here and doesn’t even try hiding her excitement. All day she’s dancing around and singing. I’m even smiling halfway through the day, unable to contain it all.

“Hello,” I look up from the book, surprised at the sound of a voice of anyone who hadn’t worked here or walked in and checked in with me. I’d been so into my work I was a bit oblivious to the world. The cowbell on the door hadn’t rung indicating a new customer so it hadn’t broken that work trance. It’s Dash. Dressed head to toe in black, hands in his pocket, expression apathetic. No, not apathetic. There’s a hint of amusement.

“Hello. Do you have an appointment or are you here to look or simply to talk to one of the artists?” I say, repeating what I’ve said to just about every person who walked in here before him. He smiles.

“Very professional of you on your first day.” I look at him.

“How do you know it’s my first day?”

“You’re terribly nervous, afraid you’ll mess up.” He says. “It’s quite apparent, Grace.” I look at him.

“Now, I KNOW you know that’s not my name.” He chuckles lightly.

“Of course. I wasn’t saying it was.”

“Ah, play on words?” I ask. “Sarcastic because somehow you know I’m a klutz?”

“Again, apparent.” He says, pointing towards the cup of pens I had spilled a few moments earlier. I smile and so does he. “WHY are you so suspicious of me?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, I’m at work.” I say. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes. I remain smiling. “Yeah, I’m also not every other girl in the world. You’re....dare I say, dashing, but I’m not interested.” He sighs dramatically.

“I suppose I’ll just give up then?” He asks, flashing his golden eyes my way.

“I’d advise so.” I say, scribbling a fake name on a sticky note to feign busyness. He laughs, as if he knows I’m faking it. As if he knows my heart is beating too fast for my liking. I’m only human, after all.

“Well, I suppose I should leave before you break my heart any further.” He says, eyes scanning mine which happened to look up at that exact moment. He catches me. “See a movie with me?”

“Got work.” I say quietly. I bite my lip to keep ‘yes’ from escaping.

“She’s lying.” Anne says, appearing out of nowhere and eyeing him like meat at a butcher shop. She loves him because he’s hot and charming. You don’t have to know her to see that. “She’d LOVE to!” Anne says, smiling at me.

“Don’t have the money.” I say.

“Then it’s a date!” Anne says. “All boys should pay on the first date.” Anne informs him. Or me. It’s hard to tell.

“I have OTHER plans thank you very much!” I announce to Anne, looking at her like she’s a sociopath.

“You’re lying to me. I should spank you.” I roll my eyes.

“Oh my GOD my friends are all against me.” I look to Dash. “You’re very charming and attractive and all but no thank you.”

“Maybe another time.” He says, pulling a rose out of thin air. “Will you at least accept this?” I look at it.

“If I do, it’s a promise of a date.” He smiles.

“Is that a yes or no?” He asks. I reach out and take the rose. It’s absolutely perfect. Not a petal out of place, not a single one wilting, no color fading, no brown spots, no thorns for me to hurt myself on, it’s absolute perfection in the form of a rose.

“Thank you.” I say and he leaves.

“You are AWFUL!” Anne scolds once he’s out and has taken a few steps down the sidewalk. “He’s SO hot! WHY would you deny him?!” She shouts. I sigh.

“I don’t know. I mean...he was in the car when me and Ami almost died. And he KIND of saved me from being drugged...AND raped.” I say. Her eyes bulge. I fear they’ll pop right out of their sockets. I sigh. “OK, I took the rose!” I defend myself. Anne harasses me the rest of the day, making me tell her every detail.

By the time I’m headed home, I’m exhausted and, for some reason, extremely cold. I’m shivering wildly and have to turn my heater on full blast. At a red light I realize how dark it is. I’m one of the only cars on the road and that’s not comforting the anxious feeling that’s been forming in my stomach. “Green bean, let’s just get home.” I tell my car, trying to make myself feel less alone. I’m still the only car on the road. Not even the homeless are around, no one walking the streets, no slight on in stores. To add to the creepiness, each streetlamp I pass flickers off.

Moments later I see why my stomach’s been flipping like a free runner. I am one of the only cars on the road, not the only. The other one that just turned onto the street behind me, is now following me. I speed faster than I ever have, feeling terrified. That knowing feeling is back. I KNOW I need to get away. So I try, but he’s keeping up better than I’m getting away. I’m not an expertly skilled driver so I can’t lose him using any fancy tricks. I take a corner too fast and my car skids. I grab onto the wheel and shove it to the right with all the force I can come up with. My poor car tries and tries to work with me but it’s just a machine. I end up killing it. It starts sputtering, smoke comes from the hood and I’m so terrified I feel I might break into tears. I’m not an expert on cars, I don’t know how I killed it but I know that smoke means I’m dead. It’s dead, I’m dead, at least I’m not alone, right?

My phone rings. I see it’s Ami.

“Hello!?” I answer in a panic

“You’re safe!” She gasps.

“NO! I’m NOT!” I yell, tears slipping down my cheek. “He’s going to kill me!” I tell her. I hate this knowing. There’s not a single thread of doubt in me that the man now walking towards my broken car wants to kill me. I try to start my car but it’s pointless. “Ami I’m scared!” I tell her.

“Oh God! Call the cops.” She says.

“It won’t help. He’ll be gone by then. Remember that movie? I’m going to tell you everything about the guy and you’ll tell the police, OK? That way he can’t get anyone else.” You, Ami. You know I mean you. I know you know. “I love you, K? Tell mom.” I tell her.

“NO!” She shouts. She’s crying now. I reach under my seat to see if the metal baseball bat is still there. Ami had bought it for a joke, saying it would protect me. It’s not there. The man is at my window. He stares in with big black eyes that can only be described as black holes. Pulling in all light and giving nothing back. I click the speakerphone button and thrust myself into the back, struggling through the seatbelt.

“BLACK EYES!” I shout. “SIX FOOT SOMETHING!” I shout. He slams his elbow against the window and it breaks. Glass flies as I thrust the upper half of my body into the back. Feet still in the front seat, I grab the baseball bat underneath the passenger seat. He grabs my leg and I scream. “I CAN’T SEE!!” I cry. The man pulls me out through the window, slicing up my sides and stomach. I hit the ground with a loud thud, holding the bat to my body as if trying to pull it through me. I groan and try to get up. He pulls out a knife that glints in the streetlight. I let out a loud, blood curdling scream as I scramble up.

The man is dressed head to toe in black. His black trench coat billows in the small breeze.

I take a swing. The bat collides with the palm of the hand. He yanks it from me and shoves me to the ground once more. I turn onto my back and start kicking at him. I try kicking at his legs. In one swift movement he cuts both my legs. A warning. I scream again. “WHITE!” I yell out, hoping Ami can hear. I swing the bat and collide with my car. I try to sit up and grab for the bat he let drop to the ground. It’s in his hands again, I don’t know how it got there. He shoves my chest with the end of the bat and I fall back. My head hits the ground and I feel blood trickling down. I close my eyes and prepare myself for the final swipe of the knife, the one to end it all, to end ME. I hear the knife slicing through the air.

I scream one last time before the horrible feeling, the knowing, disappears completely. The world is silent.

I refuse to move, refuse to breathe out a sigh of relief. Not for a good amount of time. It could’ve been a minute that passed or an hour before I push myself up and struggle to breathe. I force myself to walk to the car and pull my phone out, reaching in through my broken window and cutting my arm.

“I’m alive.” I whisper, switching it off speakerphone.

“Should I call the cops?” I can hear her shaking, the sobs taking over her whole body. She thought I’d died.

“No. I’m walking home. I’ll call you later, K?”

“Is that safe?” I nod though I know she can’t see.

“Yes, it’s fine. I need time to think. OK?”

“I love you.” Ami whispers.

“I love you too.” I say and hang up. I get the keys out of my ignition and my bag. The rest, anyone can HAVE. I don’t CARE. It’s cold enough that I can see my breath and I’m miles from my house. My legs, side and head are all bleeding but I don’t care.

This is more than bad luck, this is more than coincidence, someone really wants me dead. The almost car crash, the drugging, the rape, THIS! It’s not all my bad luck. Someone wants me dead and I don’t know why. I’m a relatively GOOD person, I never do anything bad like cut class or cheat. Hell, the time Ami and I cut class was the second time in my LIFE I’d cut class. I love my mom and try to help her. While SOME kids sneak money out of their mom’s wallets I slip money in! I lost my dad and didn’t blame ANYONE. I was the comforting one, I was the one who took charge and led things. I’m a GOOD person! WHY, WHY, WHY is this happening to me?! This can’t be real life! This can’t, just CAN’T be real!

“Trinity.” I turn and see Dash walking behind me. His steps were silent and, had he been yet ANOTHER person out to kill me, he would’ve succeeded. That ends it. I feel tears slip down endlessly.

“Why?” I ask him. He walks up to me, getting rid of that small space between us, and places the rose in my hand. I had left it in the car. I suck my lips into my mouth, hoping to prevent myself from screaming. “I need to go to the hospital I think.” I whisper, trying SO hard to keep myself composed. He pulls me into him and holds me. I hesitate then allow myself to cry into his chest. I ignore the fact that I’m getting blood on him, that I’m bleeding and in pain. I ignore everything. He makes me feel safe which is a direct contradiction to what I think. “You want me dead.” I whisper.

“Come on Trin, I’ll drive you home.” I look at him.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Me what?” He asks, not even pretending he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. His voice SAYS IT!

“You stopped that man.” I tell him. He shrugs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”