Foresight: A Superhero Story

8. Self Defense

I wake up abruptly, sitting up with a shriek. Finding myself tangled in my sheets, I thrash for a few seconds before freeing myself. I was drenched with sweat and my pajamas clung uncomfortably to my skin. At first, I'm not sure what woke me. I then sprung to my feet when I feel a prickling sensation on my shoulder.

Damn it!

I quickly change out of my pajamas, wincing slightly as the pain began to intensify. I cannot bring myself to look until the burning, stinging sensation subsides. I turn in front of the mirror, seeing strange images on my shoulder. A pair of abstract, wavy shapes were perched on pedestals near a pathway.

The park.

I recognize the tattoo. It showed two beloved sculptures from a memorial park near my apartment. The strange shapes were suposed to depict two lovers, but the sculptures were not even remotely human looking. I don't get it. And by it, I mean abstract art.

I grab my wallet and stuff it into the back pocket of my jeans before placing my phone into the pocket of my hoodie. Lastly, I tucked my keys, a pocket knife, and a newly acquired canister of pepper spray in the front pockets of my jeans. I decided to employ a few strategic self defense measures in case this happened again. To say the whole bank robbery experience was traumatizing would be an understatement. It was unfortunate that such measures had to be taken, as two weeks ago I wouldn't be willingly walking into a potentially dangerous situation at two in the morning. Then again, I guess I should give up on being normal and helpless.

I grumbled under my breath, feeling the compulsion to go to whatever dangerous place my strange tattoo lead me. A part of me, a much more rational and intelligent part, tried to convince me to stay home where it's safe. Staying in bed was awfully tempting. However, what kind of person would I be if I sat back and closed by eyes while something horrible happened? I might not understand what is happening, but I didn't think I could live with myself if I chose to stay home tonight.

The fact that my tattoo has gone rogue twice now and lead me to people in need, it almost seemed like... Fate. I may hide behind my resting-bitch-face and cynicism on a day to day basis, but deep down, I've always wanted to help people. When I was younger, I wanted to be a nurse or a social worker. However, since I could barely finish high school, college was out of the question. Who knew that my dream would come true in such an unconventional way?

I dashed out the door without a second thought. I took the steps of my apartment two at a time as I gripped the railing for safety. When I was out on the street, I quickly hailed a cab and was on my way. Sitting in the back of the cab was was a rare experience, but worth it considering the bus was no longer making stops at this time of night. I nervously played with my hair as I counted the street lights between home and the park.

"Going on a booty call?" The cab driver raised a meticulously groomed eye brow at me through the rear view mirror.

"Yeah... Something like that."

"Don't forget to use a condom, hunny."

"...Thanks?" I was taken off guard by that comment, and I began to chuckle darkly. If the cab driver was off put by my laughter, she didn't let it show. 

All too soon, we stop in front of the park. The arching entryway was backlit by lamps, making it look especially ominous. I pay the cab fare and walk out into the dark park. During the day, this park is serene and peaceful. At night, it's a whole different story. The darkness was overwhelmingly oppressive. I could faintly hear creatures moving in the distance, no doubt some kind of city vermin. I flinched as I felt a whoosh of air over my head. I froze for a moment, before realizing it was a bat. I laugh nervously before continuing further into the dark.

As I near the statues in the center of the park, I can hear voices. I squint, staring into the shadows past the halo of the area's lone light. Two men gradually appear under the light. They begin a tense disagreement before things start to get physical. I put my hand over my mouth, struggling to suppress a gasp as one man, the burnette, took a hell of a punch. The redhead who started the fight clearly had the upper hand. I gripped my pepper spray tightly beneath shaking fingers.

"Don't be a hero."

The Specter's words echo in my mind. I hesitate before dialing 911. I whisper to the operator to avoid attracting attention. I look on, terrified and disgusted by my inaction. The fight was beginning to escalate. I watch for an agonizing amount of time. I repeatedly check the clock on my phone, wondering what was possibly taking the police so long. I wait as long as I can, but without hearing approaching sirens, I know that I am alone and unable to hold off any longer. One man was now on the ground, the other was on top of him and throwing more punches. I approach them cautiously from behind. I was close enough to hear them clearly now.

"I'll kill you!" The redhead shouted, beginning to choke the other man. 

"It..." The burnette wheezes audibly as he struggled to loosen the strangling grip. "Was... an accident."

I was now close enough to touch the redhead's shoulder. "Hey!" 

The man whipped around quickly, but before he could see my face I sprayed a stream of pepper spray into his eyes. He released the burnette man before tumbling to the ground with a howl. The burnette quickly rolled to his feet and took off at a sprint most athletes would be envious of. I watched the screaming man writhe on the ground for a few seconds before turning and following suit. I quickly disappeared into the foliage, making sure to silently zig zag through the park. I wasn't in a mood to be followed. I glanced nervously over my shoulder as I exited the park. Thankfully, the redhead was nowhere in sight. I look around for a cab,  but it was pointless. With the bars all closed, this side of town was practically vacant. 

I walked triumphantly down the sidewalk. I did it. Me. A scrawny, poverty stricken woman. I stopped that terrible man. I only hoped he would think twice before trying to hurt anyone else. Although I wanted the police to arrest him, they had yet to show up. I suppose they were too busy. Crime runs rampant in these streets and the police force was overwhelmed. I continued to muse over the night's events as I feel my tattoo shift back to its normal state. 

I can hear a familiar buzzing noise as I round a corner. I find myself standing in front of a tattoo parlor. I'm amazed it's still open at this time of the morning. I shrug before entering the blackened doors. I mull around the lobby, staring at a wall of tattoo drawings until I am approached by a heavyset man with numerous piercings and full sleeve tattoos.

"Can I help you?"

I smile at him. "I want a tattoo."

"Okay. What kind of tattoo?"

"Any tattoo." I pause for a moment, "I'd like a half sleeve." 

He raises his eyebrow inquisitively. "I usually don't recommend getting impulse tattoos."

"This isn't an impulse. This is fate."