*Life*
"You're dead! Do you hear me! Dead!" Hannah screamed through the locked door, and I couldn't hold back my giggles. She takes stuff so serious!
"Oh, sweetie! Don't be that way! You know you love me!" I laughed back at her. I slumped to the ground my red and black hair falling around me as the door I was leaning on got thumped.
"Not right now! I'm serious this time!" The laughter coming from me was getting dangerously close to the ugly kind. I just didn't care. Hannah's face was priceless when she opened her Facebook! Priceless! I should get an award!
"I can't believe you Mira! I'm serious about killing you! I just read some creepy pasta and I have way too many ideas!" This, of course, coming from sweet Hannah caused my laughter to cross that line, till I was snorting and tears streamed down my face.
"You posted a pic of my vibrator online and called it my boyfriend!" She screeched. Yea, now I'm not even making sounds, I'm laughing that hard. I pulled it together long enough to answer her.
"Nooo. I called it your B. O. B. Battery Operated Boyfriend." The angry squall made my giggle fits return.
"My mother could have seen it! How the hell did you get my password anyway?!" Again came the thumping on the door. She may be sweet, but she was persistent. She had it coming though. She did. Promise. On and on going on about her ex ruining her life. Then I say something smart along the lines of. 'Well, wouldn't you say you ruined your own life by dating him.' Do you know what sweet Hannah did then? Let me tell you. She smashed, and I mean smashed my favorite BVB CD! There had to be revenge. Oh, yes, revenge HAD to be taken. So I posted a pic of her fave "toy" and posted it on her facebook. Revenge will be mine!
"You have had the same password since we were sixteen. Duh! I mean "ILOVETWILIGHT" is pretty simple." I explained. That obsession of hers had me seriously questioning our friendship. It was a rough few years for us, let me tell you that.
The door got quiet there for a second. I felt the door still holding her weight, so I know she was still there. The sound of her sliding down the door came next, and I could imagine her sitting the same as me, crosslegged on the floor.
"Okay, I guess we're even now, right?" She quietly said. Yes, I guess we were. She ruined my baby. I potentially could have ruined her life. Seems fair to me.
"I guess." I flipped my hair out of my face, and for a nanosecond, just a nanosecond, felt guilty. "Though don't you think I took a great pic of Bob? I could give you a copy." It translating to "I'm sorry I almost let your Mom see your dirty girl side." A giggle came through the door at that.
"Yes, it was flattering lighting. Did you use a filter?" This from Hannah translating to "I forgive you and I'm sorry for smashing your CD". I stood and opened the door, allowing Hannah to fall flat on her back, her blonde curls floating around her like a nimbus. I bent and kissed her forehead.
"No, he's just that photogenic. Are we going out?" Just like that, we were besties again. Its just how we are. We fight worse than siblings, try to kill each other on a regular basis, and generally make each other's lives miserable. That is love right there. We have been besties since we were nine, blood buddies since were thirteen, now at twenty-three, roomies. We just needed a couple of cats and we were set for life.
"Yea. Let's go. I swear though! No more coconut rum! It does weird things to you, and makes me just plain weird." I laughed and helped her up at her words. Dance on one bar, kiss one girl, and you're branded for life.
At the club, I let the bass drive my body, the beats sway me. The club was hoppin' and I was enjoying the room. The DJ was surprisingly good, and the selection of male eye candy just as fun. The few drinks I had in me were enough to "loosen" me up, but not so much that I couldn't keep it in control. Hannah danced next to me, so the buddy system was still in check. What was the buddy system? You use each other's eyes to keep nasty surprises out of your drinks, and unless a code word was spoken, you didn't let them out of your sight. No matter what.
I had a feeling the code word would be used tonight, there may also be a hanger on a doorknob. Hannah was sliding around some sweet bit of man candy, and I knew all her moves. So it was no surprise when Hannah stopped sweet talking man candy and pulled me to the side.
"Strawberries! Dear lord, strawberries! Do you have cab fare?" I laughed at her face, which looked kind of funny with the desperate plea in them. Rule#23. Whenever you go out, always keep cab fare handy.
"Of course, babydolls." Her eyes got stern for a second. "Okay, I promise to leave in a couple of minutes!" Another item of the buddy code. When one leaves. So does the other. No hanging behind. Yes, we were young, and admittedly stupid sometimes, but we were not naïve. Bad things could definitely happen to young girls alone in a club. She smiled and headed towards her flavor of the week, and I made my way after her. The line for the cabs wasn't too bad yet, so it wasn't that long before Hannah was off. Please let them make it to her room this time, I prayed in my head. Awkwardness unleashed the one time they didn't. I saw more of her date then I really needed to.
Like the masters of the universe had it in for me, the never ending flow of cabs stopped at my turn though. Just perfect. Another night alone, and now, I'm stuck in a cab line. Just perfect. I looked around the now deserted street and fought a battle within myself. Do I wait who knows how long for a cab, or do I walk a few blocks to the more inhabited downtown district. Stay here, in the dark, alone; outside a questionable club filled with who knows how many questionable dudes, or walk a few blocks to my fave coffee house and wait there. In comfort. With coffee. The coffee sealed the deal.
Against my better judgement, I headed toward the brighter lights of the downtown district. The lure of coffee and comfy seats, drove me on. I tried to use all the safety training Dad had made me learn. Keep alert. Listen to your surroundings. Look around. I did, walking as fast as I could in my heels, avoiding looking too deep in the dark alleys, and avoiding any and all eye contact. All the while judging how fast I could make said shoe a weapon. Heels were more than decoration. I grabbed my keys out of my purse, my fingers clasping the supple black and pink leather of my pepper spray case. It was comforting.
It did prove useful when the hand reached out from the alleyway, grabbing my arm. It pulled me closer to the darkness and I responded with a mighty scream and a spray of peppery goodness. Dàmnit! I should have waited in the line! A garbled scream came out of the darkness, and I could see the man who had grabbed me as he stumbled toward me. A tall, older guy, kinda skinny. I recorded as much as I could before I pulled some moves. Slamming my heel into his foot, making him bend. Classic textbook slam of my combined fists to the back of his neck bent him lower, followed by a knee to his face flipped him over onto his back. Thank you Daddy!
I kicked at him one last time before dashing off. Unfortunately, the crackhead must have been on something, because he recovered quicker than I could run in those dàmn shoes. He tackled me to the ground a block away, fifty feet or so, from my goal. Fifty feet from witnesses. From help. Flipping me over, he batted at my hands aiming for his throat or his eyes. I tried to remember every fúcking move I knew. My hands slowed though when he pulled the knife out.
That was a game changer. We have gone from defend yourself, to fight for your life. I was going to lose it all over a fúcking cup of coffee and a cab. Not cool coffee. Not cool.
"Fúckin bìtch! I'll show you. I'll show them all." The bad man growled at me, showing his nasty teeth and gross breath. The knife flashed down. So caught up in fighting him off, I barely felt the tear of my shirt, the piercing of my skin. I did feel the blood, pouring warm over me. Forget the face, I grabbed for his knife. We wrestled. I mean wrestled. I pulled some Shera-Superwoman out of me from somewhere and was able to shove up with my shoulder and knee and flip us over.
We still grappled for the knife, my blood making the handle slippery, which helped me twist the pointy end away from me. Thankfully, I did. At the moment, that sharp bit was not aimed my way, he flipped us again. I lost my breath for a moment as his weight landed on me. He made some choking sounds, then went still.
I laid there under him for a few moments, confused. Why wasn't he moving? He just gurgled in my ear, and believe me when I say, it was really icky. I shoved him off me one last time. That was when I saw it. The knife that he had stuck me with was lodged in his chest. A dark red, almost purple color dripping from the wound and his mouth. I had a hysterical, and not the funny kind, of thought. If my blood was on the knife, and is now mixed with his blood, does that make us blood buddies? A laugh of tension, high and a little crazy, escaped at the thought.
Then it hit me. I killed a guy. Yes, in self defense, but I killed a guy.
"Holy shìt on a shingle! I killed him!" I shouted to the world. I blame that stupid move on shock.
"Not quite. But you did a good job of it." A smooth sexy voice came from behind me and I twirled around. There, not a foot away, stood a walking, talking, wet dream! Dark tousled hair, the ends coming over, shading his eyes a bit. Through the fringe of those dark pieces, his amber eyes burned nearly gold. His face a perfectly sculpted as a painting, with a straight nose and full lips. The black leather jacket couldn't hide his amazing body. Don't get me started on those jeans and how he filled them. Shīt girl, get it together. You just killed your potential killer. Did that make sense?
"Well, he looks pretty dead to me." I said to him. He seemed shocked at my words. He came close to me, his eyes piercing my soul.
"You can see me?" He asked. Well, aren't I attracting the crazies!
"Well, you are like in my face." Sarcasm. My first line of defense.
"Curious. Well, you should get that nick looked at." I looked down at my wound. Why does it only truly hurt till you look at it?
"Yeah, I guess I -" I looked up to finish speaking, but he was gone. What a gentleman. I shuffled my way to the finish line of the coffee shop. Gasps and shouts at my appearance. I played it cool though. I was getting what I came for.
"A café mocha to go and an ambulance please." I handed enough money over to the shell shocked barista and all the poor girl could do was nod, before shouting my order. Then she grabbed the phone and called for my other order. I wish Hannah would have been here. She would have laughed and called me a bad àss for drinking my coffee as they wheeled me away. Yeah, she would have loved it. I passed out in the ambulance, the void of darkness broken by amber eyes gleaming through a fringe of dark hair.