This chapter is a bit more graphic than the last one, but not as graphic as I plan on making the next few chapters. Please pardon any spelling and grammar mistakes as well as any minor inconsistencies.
72 hours earlier. . .
"Now I want your essays to be no less than 3,000 words, bibliographies must be all peer-reviewed articles in MLA format, and any essay turned in after 4PM will not be accepted. Any questions? Alright, you're all free to go."
The lecture hall was filled with the mixture of groans and shuffling of bags and belongings as Professor Toney officially dismissed his General Economics class. As the instructor turned his back to clear the dry erase board, the usual group of unhappy students took it upon themselves to stick around long enough to voice their complaints about the tedious assignment due next week.
"Come on Professor, I have a big chemistry exam next week. That's 20% of my final grade!"
"I'm going out of town this weekend, how am I supposed to write an essay at my sister's wedding?"
"I don't even know what 'MLA' means!"
"Can I just wash your car instead of doing the paper?"
The professor turned to his distressed students with his hands raised.
"People, people! Now I gave you all a break by letting you choose your own topic, so long as it meets the set guidelines. 3,000 words are only about 5 or 6 pages worth of content, and I know half of you can finish that the night before it's due. Just relax and do your best. If you have any other questions or concerns, feel free to e-mail me over the weekend, okay?"
After getting some grumbles of agreement, the leftover students finally filed out of the lecture hall. Except for Dana Wagner, who noticed that one of her classmates was still seated in one of the last rows in the hall. Trisha Moreno was slumped over in her seat, her long, black hair draped over her face as well as the book she was using as a pillow. Dana walked over to Trisha's desk and stood in front of it for a moment in silence. Then she spoke in a sing-song voice.
"Miss Moreno, class is dismissed now."
Nothing.
"Trish, the lecture hall is on fire."
Total silence.
Then Dana came up with an idea she was sure would work.
"Excuse me, miss. Did you drop this $100 bill?"
"WHAT?!" Trisha's head popped up immediately, and for a moment she completely forgot where she was and stared in total confusion around the empty lecture hall. It wasn't until she recognized the young woman in front of her laughing that her memory came flooding back.
"No thinks you're funny, Dana," she ran her hands over her face. "And please tell me I didn't sleep through the entire class."
"No, just the last 30 minutes or so. You look terrible by the way, is something going on at home?"
Trisha shook her head as she began throwing her belongings into her book bag. "I had a lapse of judgment and agreed to work more hours at the bookstore. I haven't been getting home until almost midnight lately. Between work and classes and studying, I can barely get a few hours in bed before I'm back up again." She paused to let out an unnecessarily loud yawn.
"I swear Dana, I don't even know how I got to campus this morning. These last few weeks have been a total blur." After packing up her possessions, Dana put a hand on Trisha's back and guided her to the exit and then down the crowded hallway.
"Aw, poor baby. Welcome to junior year life, Trish! You really didn't see this coming when you decided to have a double major? Political Science and-?"
"Latin Studies," Trisha finished for her.
"Oh, that's right! You're Latina and you can barely speak Spanish yourself!"
"Thank you for close captioning my shame, Dana."
The two women walked outside in the fresh air and Trisha instantly felt re-energized from feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. Maybe the warm air would keep her awake long enough to not show up late to work tonight.
She and Dana walked over to their favorite spot to kill time, a giant oak tree just beside the faculty parking lot. As they got comfortable at the foot of the tree, Dana piped up, "So what's your plan for Toney's paper? Think you can handle it?"
Trisha closed her eyes and rested her head on the trunk of the tree, "I think I'll take our wise professor's advice and just pull an all-nighter the night before."
Dana nodded as she pulled her fiery red hair out of the tight ponytail she had put it in this morning. "You're a true inspiration, Trisha. You know that?" They sat in silence for a few mintues, listening to the noises of nature when Dana spoke up again. "So what are your plans for tonight?"
Trish counted off her list with her fingers, "Philosophy class, work, awkward bus ride home, ramen noodles for dinner, then sleep until noon tomorrow."
"You work again tonight? Dammit! I wanted you to come with me to see Damon and his band play. It's open mic-night at Billy Goat's Tavern, remember?"
Trisha opened up one eye to stare at her redheaded friend, "As much as I'd like to hear your boyfriend butcher a song by The Rolling Stones, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. But you can swing by the bookstore tonight before I clock out though. "
Dana sighed in disappointment, "Alright, fine. Let's at least do something tomorrow night though, after you've gotten your beauty rest. We need to discuss what we're doing for your big 2-1 next month."
Trisha only nodded in agreement as her friend continued to rattle on and on about this, that and the other. As hard as she tried to keep them open, her eyelids felt as if they were weighted down with lead. She had to snooze, just for a little bit. Just enough to get her through the rest of the day without going through the usual side effects associated with fatigue.
I'll just doze off here for a while, that ought to get me through philosophy and my shift tonight. But as soon as I get home tonight, it's light's out for me until noon, no joke. . .
"Thanks for coming to 'Speed Read', have a great night!"
Trisha handed the short, round, and apparently extremely stressed out man his book purchase titled, "How To Get A 6-Pack For Dummies" with a polite smile.
"Just 30 more minutes," she mumbled to herself. "Just try to hold out for another 30 minutes." She was so exhausted she could actually feel herself start to tremble and had to prop herself up against the counter just to keep herself steady. Her vision blurred in and out of focus as she eyed the last 8 or 9 people still roaming about the bookstore; a couple of college students like herself, an elderly man hovering around the agriculture section, a rather tall man engrossed in a graphic novel, and a group of hipsters chatting loudly by the magazines. She had been granted the task of kicking them out at exactly 11 o'clock, and it was a small taste of authority that she relished in.
She stared intensely at the clock on the far wall, half expecting to make time go faster. She had gotten so absorbed in her own thoughts she barely noticed that someone was leaning over the counter watching her. Out of the corner of her eye Trisha could just make out Dana grinning at her, wagging her eyebrows suggestively.
"What are you doing here so late?" Trisha inquired.
"You told me to come, you fool. Remember? I had to ditch open mic-night at Billy Goat's, I couldn't take it anymore."
Trisha almost laughed but realized that she didn't have the strength, and opted to give her friend a sympathetic smile instead.
"I was going to go home but I thought I'd walk you to the train station first," Dana continued.
Trisha shook her head, "Nah, you go on home. Shoot me a text tomorrow about the movie though."
"Don't need to tell me twice! Catch you later, working girl!" Dana shot her a wink and Trish gave her a little finger wave in response.
If Trisha's attention had not been distracted at that very moment by a customer with a question, she would have most definitely caught Dana getting stopped on her way out the store by the tall gentleman who had been reading the graphic novel moments before. But Trisha had not noticed a thing, and by the time she had finished helping the last costumer of the night, Dana and the tall stranger had already walked out together into the night.
11:45PM
If Trisha had not known any better, she could swear that she had imagined her bus ride home. After finishing her shift at the bookstore and bidding her co-workers good night, the only thought she could entertain was the image of her big, cushy bed waiting for her. She took her sweet time walking up the front steps and her house key missed the keyhole 3 times before she finally found it. When she'd finally made it inside the modest 3 bedroom house she shared with her older brother, she had barely shut the door and locked it behind her before dropping her heavy book bag at her feet and kicked off her shoes.
"Donnie, are you home?" she called out into the darkness.
Dead silence.
She flicked on a hall light and then the kitchen light. A message written on the dry erase board on the refrigerator confirmed her suspicions:
Hey T,
Hope you had a good day. I'm working the late night shift again tonight so dinner is on you.
I'll see you in the morning, and don't forget to lock up before going to bed.
We'll discuss your b-day plans tomorrow.
Love, D.
P.S. The Rocky Road in the freezer is mine. Hands off!
Looks like I'm on my own again tonight.
Donnie, her 30-year-old brother, was working late at the fire house again. That was the 2nd time this week. When he first agreed to let her move in with him 3 years ago for school, their schedules had been flexible enough for them to see each other regularly during the day. But lately they had both been so busy that they only saw each other for a few minutes a day, if that. She knew his work as a fire fighter would have him working odd hours, which is why her parents had not initially been on board for her moving across the country to live with him in New York. While she did miss him, tonight Trisha was so exhausted she was grateful to have the house to herself.
At least he remembered that I'll be 21 next month. I hope he got me that XBox I've been hinting around for.
Too tired to fix herself dinner Trisha opted to pour herself a glass of juice instead, then dragged herself upstairs to take the world's fastest shower. After toweling off she tossed on some underwear and the black, oversized New York Yankees t-shirt that she reserved for sleeping in. She caught her reflection in the mirror as she reached to switch off the bathroom light; her long curly hair had frizzed in the steam of the shower.
'There's not enough conditioner in New York City to tame this mane', she thought, giving her big hair a shake.
Trisha walked back down to her room and dumped her dirty clothes in the hamper by her desk, used her foot to shut her bedroom door, switched off the light, then practically swan dived into bed. Her room was completely engulfed in darkness, save for the glare of the full moon in the clear night sky outside. Lying on her back she decided to do one last check on her phone to make sure she had turned off all the alarms. That was the last thing she remembered before finally surrendering to much needed sleep.
The only sound in the house was her deep, rhythmic breathing.
3:30AM
Try as she might, she couldn't ignore it anymore.
Nature was calling her and she had to answer it.
Annoyed that it had not occurred to her to use the bathroom before going to bed, she dragged herself out of bed and stumbled around in the dark for a minute trying to find the doorknob. Feeling her way down the hallway (she didn't dare turn on the hall light), she finally made it to the bathroom and quickly did her business. With her eyes barely open she staggered back down the hall to her room, shutting the door behind her. As she began to pull the covers back, she made the mental promise that she wouldn't wake up again no matter what before at least 12PM.
She only sensed him in the room the second before he opened his mouth.
"Back in bed already, Trish?"
Trisha froze in place next to her bed, too stunned to even scream. There was a man sitting in her desk chair behind her.
"You looked so peaceful when you were sleeping, I didn't have the heart to wake you up." He paused a moment, letting his words sink in.
This couldn't be happening; she had to still be asleep. Any minute now she would wake up and find her desk chair empty. Despite her better judgment she slowly turned around to face the intruder. The moon was shining into her bedroom it illuminated him where he sat; he was smiling proudly into her face, his teeth glistening. She tried to tell herself to look away, but it was as if her brain and her body had become disconnected. The longer she looked at him, the colder she felt. It was terrifying.
Had he really been sitting there this whole time? Why hadn't she noticed him when she got up to go to the bathroom?
"If you try to scream, I'll shoot you right where you're standing." He said this in a calm voice but with a firmness that let her know that he wasn't kidding. As if to confirm her thoughts he suddenly stood up, and Trisha could now clearly see the gun in his right hand aimed directly at her face. The sight of the gun made her heart stop but it was his large frame towering over her petite body that truly made her feel ill. He noticed the petrified look on her face and relished in it.
"Please don't shoot," she pleaded, holding up her hands and trying to keep her voice steady. Her eyes never left the gun. "Wh-what do you want?"
He considered her question for a moment, the hand holding his weapon completely motionless. He took 3 large strides in her direction and her cold feet felt like they were plastered to the floor. The gun mere inches away from her now, the intruder used his free hand to brush a tress of her wavy hair out of her face.
"I'm looking at it, darling," he finally answered, his demented smile growing wider.
Trisha's mind started to run wild.
No, this can't be happening to me.
This is all just a dream, a really bad dream.
How did he even get in the house?
How long was he sitting in here watching me?
Just do what he says. Just do whatever he wants and he'll leave you alone. . .
She took a shaky breath and started to speak, "Listen, if it's money you want-"
He interrupted her, putting a finger to his lips and shushing her.
"No no no, Trisha, baby. I've got everything I want right here." He reached out his long, toned arm again and Trisha held her breath as he used the back of his hand to stroke her soft, brown cheek. Now he cupped her face in his rough hand, running a thumb over her soft lips. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't think. It was as if his very presence had turned her into stone.
He couldn't have asked for a more captive audience.
"Turn around," he whispered.
Something inside her mind clicked at this demand, and she abruptly felt her eyes start to brim with tears.
"Please don't shoot me. Please. . ."
"I'm not telling you again, Trisha." he warned in a dangerous tone. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the index finger on his right hand sliding over the trigger.
Swallowing hard, Trisha took a shaky breath and slowly turned around to face the window on the far side of the room. After a moment she felt him standing right behind her, his chest touching the back of her head, followed by the unmistakable touch of cold metal against her right temple.
She felt the intruder gingerly run one of his long fingers against the length of her spine, almost as if he were searching for something, and his touch made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
"I see you don't sleep in a bra, good girl."
When she didn't give him a verbal response, he continued using his free hand to roam over her much smaller figure, first running it down the length of her arm, then moving it across her collarbone. Resting his hand on the nape of her neck, he leaned down toward her head and inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of the coconut oil in her hair and sighing in satisfaction. Trisha's heart thumped so loudly, she was sure that he could hear it vibrating through her body.
She had only one chance, and it was now or never.
She carefully made a fist with her right hand then drew it forward and in one swift motion, plunged her elbow as hard as she could into the belly of the man standing behind her. He heard him groan and he doubled over in pain, then the sound of the gun hitting the floor. Not bothering to stop and look for it in the darkness, Trisha took this chance to run for the door. She had almost made it to the stairs when her head was roughly jerked back by the sensation of her hair being pulled.
There was a futile struggle as she attempted to pry loose the large fingers entangled in her hair.
"GET OFF ME! LET GO OF ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
Suddenly Trisha felt strong arms wrapped about her midsection and her attacker promptly flung her like a ragdoll into the wall head first.
Trisha felt the blow of the impact then knew no more.
This chapter was a little hard for me to write because I know pretty much nothing about the layout of the greater New York City area, which is why I chose not to use street names, neighborhoods, give the name of Trisha's college campus, etc. I apologize if it was a lot to take in at once and I know it kind of hopped around all over the place, but I wanted to make sure I gave Trisha a background story to make her situation a bit more relatable.
Oh yeah, and there's also a reason why I haven't referred to Lewis by name yet.
I'm only 50% sure of how I want the next chapter to go, but it's definitely going to be a roller coaster ride.
I hope you guys like it, reviews/constructive criticism welcome!