There twenty seven white tiles, the twenty eighth was black.
That thought always impressed itself upon her when she walked through the brightly lit underpass to work. To begin with she had been fearful of walking through the outskirts of the city during the night, but like many things repetition made the process easier. Each evening she would walk along, her headphones jammed down her ears playing music to distract her from ugly thoughts and preminitions that only a fearful mind could conjure.
Every night it was the same. Every night she walked past the same homeless man. She would not give him money, she didn't wish to be responsible for feeding a nasty drug habit. With time compassion warmed the heart, as she walked past she would stop long before to buy two coffees. One for her, one for him. She hoped he liked the warm drink, leaving sugar satches, small pots of evaporated milk and a muffin for him.
The first time he did not look at her when she placed the bag in front of him. She paused uncertainly for a moment before continuing to work her night shift. As she continued to walk her headphones remained dangling at her chest, she heard the rustle of the paper bag and could no longer repress the smile pulling at her lips as she pressed her own coffee cup to her lips.
Over time the two settled into a routine. Once or twice she brought him coats and shoes, failing that warm food. He would now speak to her, no longer fearful of mocking rebuke.
"Thanks, pretty lady." His voice was rough from years of neglect. She could see pale blue eyes gaze up at her from under an unruly mop of greasy strands of dark hair.
"Have a good night." She would always reply with a smile. Every time he would walk with her to the end of the underpass, his tall skinny frame towered over her but she no longer feared.
That night begun like any other, she rose, showered and got ready for work without thinking
something would go amis. Her bus was caught precisely on time, and carried her forth towards the mini metropolis. She stopped at the same coffee shop not five minutes detour from her intended route to pick up the order that now always was ready to go as the small bell announced her arrival.
None of the staff asked her any more for whom the other drink was for; though from time to time they would speculate as they closed up for the night. Once or twice they asked, but really they didn't believe the honest answer.
When she arrived at his usual place of residence he was nowhere to be found. It was as though he had vanished from existence.
The loud voices echoed down the tiled corridor, reverberating off the cold tiles and coming closer by the second. She couldn't tell how many there were but the words they shouted were not plesent ones.
Pulling her coat tighter around herself after discarding the cups allowing warm liquid to spill to the floor with a slight hiss. She stepped to the side, hoping against hope that she would go unnoticed. When they rounded the corridor she counted three, each heavily intoxicated but that was little surprise, it was a Friday night afterall.
Her pace hastened, hoping to pass them quickly but it did her little good. The largest grabbed her arm, swinging her forcefully into the wall next to her, she heard her head as it cracked against the tile but could only muster a whimper of protest.
"Your phone." His barked words were slurred and the scent of spirits assaulted her nose as his body invaded her personal space.
"N no." She stammered, defiantly. She had worked hard for her luxury and she would not have it taken in submission.
"Give me your fucking phone!" The woman fliched as his fist collided with the wall next to her ear. She knew it was most likely her last warning but ignored it anyway.
"Get your own phone." Her voice was meek, she could not meet his eye, her gaze was
downcast to the symetrical flooring but there was no pretty black tiles there to distract her muddled mind.
Flinching did not protect her from what came next. The sharp pain shot between her ribs, metal grated against bone, piercing through muscle and membranes without distinction. Her breath came in a short gasp, warm blood flowed unnoticed as her legs gave out beneath her dragging her weight down to the ground with a dull thud.
The phone was still clasped in her fingers, clinging to it as though it may save her. The words above her were muphled, as though they were so far away. The sounds of their running feet reverberated off the floor echoing into her fading consciousness.
When they were gone she curled into a ball, she couldn't bring herself to pull out the instrument of her torture. All she could do was wheeze out a breath and shiver as the cold set into her skin like ice.
After what felt like a lifetime of cold and silent tears punctuated with wheezing whimpers she felt warmth on the back of her head, someone turned her onto her back but she couldn't open her eyes. Hot fingertips burned through icy pours only heating her for an instant before it crept back to frigidity.
"Brave pretty lady." His voice almost calmed her, relief for some reason was all she could feel. "Want to live forever?" The question confused her already addled mind.
"I don't want to die." The words tumbled out with more crimson, she coughed as she began to drown.
"Dying isn't so bad." His thumb caressed at her chin, wiping away the viscous fluid, but she didn't see him sucking it off his extremity. "All this trouble for a phone, I wonder what you'll do for the things you really want to fight for."
She couldn't fixate on his words any longer, only the heat that seemed to envelop her as he pulled her closer in his arms. The sharp sting at her neck almost went unnoticed a small tensing of muscles in protest before the sudden wave of euphoria. Long moments dragged by in heartbeats, but it didn't matter, she was safe, he would save her; she knew he would. There was no panic, no fear; just the gentle tugging that pulled at her heart until finally it stopped.
One last gasped breath and then the muted rattle as the last of the air escaped her lungs. She was just as perfect as when she came into the world, and just as anonymous.