Twice The Trouble

Chapter 65: Girl Called S

Stacy

Two weeks passed, and that one Friday afternoon in late November felt no different.

Except for the inebriated moron I happened to see on my way to my favorite fabric store.

When school let out for the day, Sophia commuted home without me because of my errand.

She knew of my agenda--I needed to pick up half a dozen rolls of unique dress material which I ordered one week ago. Sure, I could have done this tomorrow but I was paranoid. I couldn't chance my beloved fabrics to be nipped in the bud by an opportunist. Those kinds of patterns and textures were rare so I reserved them in advance and I even paid extra for confidentiality.

I rode a bus to Dolores, Quezon which was one hour away from my home city Quezon,Quezon.

"Beautiful," I whispered as I stepped out of the bus and into the cold, fresh air of a new town.

The wide road was sandwiched between rich and lush bushes and thick trees. Tall mountains stood proud and sliced through the high, white clouds. A calm breeze curled around me,giving me goosebumps.

I was still clad in my school uniform of white polo, gray vest, and blue pencil skirt. My pink headband cupped the crown of my head, and I wore my long golden hair down, making the mild wind blow my yellow tresses behind me.

Luckily for me, the owner of Catalina, the fabric warehouse, was a cousin of Miles, a good friend of mine. She gave me directions to find the shop, and it took me fifteen minutes to locate it.

However, on the way back to the bus station, I accidentally mixed up one of the street names and ended up in a very unfamiliar neighborhood. It looked harmless enough, but inside I was growing anxious.

I pretended to be serene and composed even though I was panicking, because it was too palpable that I didn't belong in this area. I was the only tall blonde with blue eyes and an Orion University uniform. And to cap it off, I had an armful of half a dozen fabric rolls.

It did NOT help that the breeze made the paper slip out of my hand--the paper which contained the directions to the fabric store--but not the way back to the bus stop. So it's irrelevant now.

Crap. What should I do? I tried calling for a taxi or someone to fetch me but there was no signal. Just what I needed: Lack of phone service. Texting was out of the question at that point.

No jeeps or tricycles were in sight, causing my apprehension to increase by the minute.

Of all the days, why did the sun choose to sink faster and faster just when I was in trouble?

I glanced at my black phone. It was a quarter to six pm. Night would fall soon. "Damn," I said.

My sky blue eyes surveyed the surroundings. Shit. There was a creepy guy staring at me, and I didn't like the way he raked his hooded eyes up and down my body. He had a dark crew cut, a big gravy stain on his tight shirt, a pair of tattered pants, and his feet were in slippers.

I was a fighter, but there would always be times I had to remember: I am still a girl and I can't always win my battles.

The creepy man leered at me and began to take slow but determined steps towards me.

No, no, no! His body was quite large so I doubted I could subdue him. In my panic, I frantically searched for the nearest place I could seek refuge in for the moment.

I looked up at the sign of a small shop--THE PUB?--A bar? I don't drink and I dislike alcohol!

The pervert was looming closer.