gentlemen?” I politely smile as I
push my hair from my face.
There are five men, I’d say all within five years of my own
age, standing before me. The one in the center steps forward.
“You can give us that bag of yours and be on your merry
way.”
As I’ve already mentioned, I have never been attacked
before. That also includes being mugged. I lived in New York for ten years
before moving to the west coast, and never once had an incident like the one I
currently find myself in.
That doesn’t mean I’ve never thought about it. I’ve come
upon dark alleys or groups of interesting people and I’ve played out scenarios
in my head where I’ve had to defend myself. In none of those scenarios did I
ever give up my bag. Sometimes I scared them away with my wit. Other times I
took them down with a sharp kick to the groin. In some fantasies, I’ve even
whipped out extensive martial arts expertise that I was unaware I had, and then
I laughed as an entire group of grown men were groaning on the ground,
incapacitated by my skills.
But those were just fantasies; none of them ever saw
fruition. None of them were a reality.
But this is.
“No.” I meekly spit.
“What?” The center guy speaks again.
“No.” My voice is louder this time. “I’m not giving you my
bag.”
He laughs and shakes his head as he begins to walk toward
me. “You see that you’re outnumbered, right?”
“I do.” I nod.
“And you know what we could do to you, right?” His voice
becomes a whisper as he inches closer to me.
“I do.” I nod again.
I feel his cool hands brush up my arms, and then his fingers
wrap softly around my neck.
I want to wow him with my wit.
I want to kick him in the groin.
I want to surprise myself with my adrenaline-triggered
martial arts.
But I can’t. I am frozen. My body won’t move.
The group surrounds me and my head starts to spin. I feel
someone grab my handand another brushes
up my thigh. I feel fingers grip my hips and I feel breath on my neck. There’s
weight on my collar and then the sound of something tearing. My shirt hangs off
my shoulder, as it’s been sliced to one side.
There’s a sharp blow to my back, then to my side, and now
I’m on my knees. I can see blood begin to soak through my jeans, as I must have
landed on some piercing stones. Someone grabs at my purse, so I try desperately
to hold on tight, but my bag is soon pulled from my grip, and my wrists are
secured behind my back. The center guy steps forward, and through my tears I
can see his bright smile. He raises his hand and I close my eyes as I prepare
for the sting across my cheek.
It hurts, I try to hold back the stream of tears, but I am
painfully unsuccessful. I hear a few murmurs, a few grunts, a few laughs, and
then another blow. There’s a pounding in my head, a ringing in my ears, and I
see nothing but blackness.
I know I’m on the ground. I know my head is resting in a
puddle, but I can’t move. I can’t see. I can’t hear.
I can’t do anything.
CHAPTER TEN
“Caroline. Caroline. Wake up.”
My ears are still ringing, but I know I hear my name. Someoneis shaking me.
I’m lifted from the cold, hard ground. I try to blink my
eyes. I try so hard. I want to see. I want to know what happened. I want to
know why everything is so foggy.
There’s water running and now there’s something warm on my
head: warm and wet. It’s comforting and calming and…
And I remember.
My body shakes with a jolt at the vision of those five men,
especially the one in the center. My eyes spring open and focus.
It’s all white. Everything is white with a warm glow.
“Caroline?”
“How did I get back here?” I groan as I try to roll over. My
face stings and my ribs feel bruised.
Johnny’s eyes appear above me. His disapproving look
followed by his raspy voice makes me not only feel pain, but also
push my hair from my face.
There are five men, I’d say all within five years of my own
age, standing before me. The one in the center steps forward.
“You can give us that bag of yours and be on your merry
way.”
As I’ve already mentioned, I have never been attacked
before. That also includes being mugged. I lived in New York for ten years
before moving to the west coast, and never once had an incident like the one I
currently find myself in.
That doesn’t mean I’ve never thought about it. I’ve come
upon dark alleys or groups of interesting people and I’ve played out scenarios
in my head where I’ve had to defend myself. In none of those scenarios did I
ever give up my bag. Sometimes I scared them away with my wit. Other times I
took them down with a sharp kick to the groin. In some fantasies, I’ve even
whipped out extensive martial arts expertise that I was unaware I had, and then
I laughed as an entire group of grown men were groaning on the ground,
incapacitated by my skills.
But those were just fantasies; none of them ever saw
fruition. None of them were a reality.
But this is.
“No.” I meekly spit.
“What?” The center guy speaks again.
“No.” My voice is louder this time. “I’m not giving you my
bag.”
He laughs and shakes his head as he begins to walk toward
me. “You see that you’re outnumbered, right?”
“I do.” I nod.
“And you know what we could do to you, right?” His voice
becomes a whisper as he inches closer to me.
“I do.” I nod again.
I feel his cool hands brush up my arms, and then his fingers
wrap softly around my neck.
I want to wow him with my wit.
I want to kick him in the groin.
I want to surprise myself with my adrenaline-triggered
martial arts.
But I can’t. I am frozen. My body won’t move.
The group surrounds me and my head starts to spin. I feel
someone grab my handand another brushes
up my thigh. I feel fingers grip my hips and I feel breath on my neck. There’s
weight on my collar and then the sound of something tearing. My shirt hangs off
my shoulder, as it’s been sliced to one side.
There’s a sharp blow to my back, then to my side, and now
I’m on my knees. I can see blood begin to soak through my jeans, as I must have
landed on some piercing stones. Someone grabs at my purse, so I try desperately
to hold on tight, but my bag is soon pulled from my grip, and my wrists are
secured behind my back. The center guy steps forward, and through my tears I
can see his bright smile. He raises his hand and I close my eyes as I prepare
for the sting across my cheek.
It hurts, I try to hold back the stream of tears, but I am
painfully unsuccessful. I hear a few murmurs, a few grunts, a few laughs, and
then another blow. There’s a pounding in my head, a ringing in my ears, and I
see nothing but blackness.
I know I’m on the ground. I know my head is resting in a
puddle, but I can’t move. I can’t see. I can’t hear.
I can’t do anything.
CHAPTER TEN
“Caroline. Caroline. Wake up.”
My ears are still ringing, but I know I hear my name. Someoneis shaking me.
I’m lifted from the cold, hard ground. I try to blink my
eyes. I try so hard. I want to see. I want to know what happened. I want to
know why everything is so foggy.
There’s water running and now there’s something warm on my
head: warm and wet. It’s comforting and calming and…
And I remember.
My body shakes with a jolt at the vision of those five men,
especially the one in the center. My eyes spring open and focus.
It’s all white. Everything is white with a warm glow.
“Caroline?”
“How did I get back here?” I groan as I try to roll over. My
face stings and my ribs feel bruised.
Johnny’s eyes appear above me. His disapproving look
followed by his raspy voice makes me not only feel pain, but also
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