Before she could even hear the footsteps, Nina knew that she was being followed.
She seemed to have a sixth sense about these things, or perhaps it was just intuition- either way, she was sure of it. She felt the stalkers eyes bore into her back and could feel them surveying her, like a lion surveys a herd of buffalos. She could sense them preparing to pounce.
And it wasn't the first time. Ever since she and her mother had moved to Queens, Nina had felt as though an invisible shadow had been stalking her. It only happened when she was alone, but seeing that she spent most of her time in solitude, this detail was far from comforting.
She daren't turn round to confirm her fears. She didn't have the courage. Not only did she fear she'd find herself face to face with danger, she also feared that she wouldn't. The sense was so certain, so definite, that she feared she'd gone crazy if it turned out to be wrong.
But eventually, the choice was no longer in her hands.
Walking down the back alley that led to their apartment, Nina tried to focus on her breathing. The sense was getting stronger- the silence between them felt as though it could erupt any day now. Desperate for the safety of the apartment, she quickened her pace so that she almost fell into a jog, and behind her, she heard the pitter-patter of feet trying to catch up. Heart in her throat, she began to run as fast as she could through the alley, keeping her eyes fixed upon the apartment block that was slowly coming into sight.
Wrong move. She trips, over what she's not sure. And it didn't matter what. Before she'd even begun to pick herself up, she saw the shadow of the stalker looming over her, tall and threatening. She tries to scream but can't. Her voice box won't work. Instead she averts her gaze, tries to compose herself so that she can start running again, but it's too late. The stalkers foot keeps her on the ground, kicking her in the ribcage and pressing the sole of their sneakers in to her chest.
"Nina Nichols?" The voice barks in a typical new-yorker drawl.
Nina stays silent and cowering on the floor.
"Answer me, god dam it!"
The voice was female and not what she had expected.
The stalker digs her sole in deeper, grinding against Nina's collarbone.
"Yes." She cries out, sobbing. "W-what do you want?"
Slowly, the stalker removes her foot from Nina's chest, and walks into the light provided by a nearby street lamp. She is pretty, with olive skin and glossy dark hair tied back in a pony-tail. Her features are full and complete, her figure neither too big or small. Her plump lips stretch into a smirk, and Nina feels herself shudder. This was definitely not what she had expected.
"I'm Becca." The woman says slowly "An old friend of your sisters."
"I-I-I haven't got a sister." Nina replied automatically, a lie that had been drummed into her from an early age.
"Bullshit!" The stalker roared, kicking the wall Nina was now propped up against. "Don't you be lying to me, bitch."
Nina gulped nervously, unsure of what to say.
"Nicky." Becca said simply, pulling a tattered leather purse from her jacket. She pulls out a passport sized picture and throws it at her. "Nicky. Fucking. Nichols. Jog any memories?"
Nina glanced at the picture and blinked rapidly, trying to decide what to do next.
"If you don't fucking tell me, I'll beat the crap out of you."
"I-I haven't seen her for years." She replies to quickly "I don't know where she is."
"Bull" Becca kicks the wall again, this time much harder "Shit!"
"I-I-I" Nina sobs, frantically wringing her hands. "I-I'm sorry. I-I can't help you."
The woman smirks. "You have to. You've all I've got."
"I-I don't where she is."
Becca rolls her eyes. "Prison, probably."
"Maybe." She admits.
"The question is what one." She slides down the wall, crouching down so that the two of them are level. "Listen here, Nina. I need your help."
Nina automatically shakes her head and stares at the ground, but Becca is quick. She scoops up Nina's chin and holds her face in her hands, her nails leaving marks in the flesh.
"Leave me alone!" Nina tries to yell, but it comes out no more than a whisper.
"You pussy." Becca laughs cruelly "Just like your sister."
"Please." She pleads "Just let me go home."
For a moment, Becca stares at her in silence. Nina's eyes are back on the ground, surveying her attackers mud-caked sneakers.
"On one condition." She finally replies, tightening her grip on Nina's jaw. She moves her face so close Nina can feel the heat of her breath and see the pores on her face. "You go home and talk to mommy, get me some information."
"A-about what?" Nina replies gormlessly.
She sighs, exasperated. "What do you think, you moron?"
"B-b-but my m-mom, she won't know anything."
"Then find out anotherway." Becca yelled, her spit spraying Nina's cheeks.
Nina nodded.
What else could she do?