Hold Me

Chapter 7

Sang

Sang rushed to catch a subway to her apartment in Brooklyn, pushing through hoards of people crawling in the streets for lunch. Her trip home would have been uneventful if it were not for the thousand thoughts bouncing around in her head.

What was she going to do?

Living with her boss?

She didn't even know who he was!

She felt like crying because all the years spent trying to hide seemed to be going down the drain. When she arrived in New York to escape her abusive childhood home in Charleston, all she wanted was to live quietly on her own. No one to let in. No one to hurt her. She kept her head down, kept her mouth shut, and kept her heart closed. It worked for the past four years since she ran away when she was 18.

You're 22 now, Sang. Do you really want to work as a waitress for the rest of your life?

Her thoughts clouded her senses, and before she knew it, she was approaching her block. Sitting in front of her apartment building was a large truck that had "Juan's Moving Services" printed on the side.

I guess someone's moving today. It'll be me in a couple days, and I know Sean is expecting me.

Sang just ignored the truck and breezed inside the small lobby and climbed up the creaky metal stairs to her apartment. Just as she emerged from the top of the stairwell, she saw her apartment door wide open, and men going in and out.

Terror flooded through her veins, as she watched stocky middle aged men march in and out of her apartment like a little ant colony.

What are they doing? Who let them in? Am I being robbed at midday? Maybe if I just run, they won't see me and they'll leave me alone... I can go call Ryan downstairs and he can help me...

But she couldn't move. The fear immobilized her body, rendering her useless against her thoughts, and the panic. Oh lord the panic she could feel making her toes curl, and not in the good way. She was about to flee when she saw a gruff old man around 50 years old carrying out a dark oak trunk with delicately carved flowers and hearts around the rim.

No.

That trunk was special to her. She found it left out with the trash in her neighbor's driveway back when she still lived in Charleston, and felt a strange gravitation towards it. To this day, she could not understand why the maker never finished the flower and heart border on the rim of the trunk. It was sturdy little trunk, skillfully carved with perfect brass hinges and a lock, and it held all the things she held dear: 10 dog eared paper back books, her journal, and a heart charm.

As if spurred by the sight of her precious trunk being taken away, Sang sprang into action, marching up to the man carrying her trunk.

"Put that trunk down! What are you doing in my apartment you robber! I will give you until the count of 10 to put my things down and tell your gang to get out of my house!"

The old man just looked at her in annoyance. "I don't know what you are talking about miss," he said in a gruff voice, "I just got a call that you needed a truck and movers ASAP. So we cancelled our other client to come help you. With an additional cost, of course."

"A call? I never made any call! So you just barge into the apartment without the owner present? How did you even get in?" Sang could feel the paranoia building in her bones and she yelled at the man.

He just gave her a confused look. "Didn't you send us the key? And the address to your apartment and your new place?"

"No! Who called you! Let me see the dang number!"