|Author:||klundtacular (Authenticated as klundtacular)|
|Date:||May 29, 2012 at 12:11:16 PM|
|Reply to:||Build-a-Soundtracked-Story Part 3 by klundtacular|
Katie shoved her garbage bag full of unwanted clothing into the receptacle for a charity she’d never heard of until she filled up her car with gas three weeks ago. She supposed she should have done some research but it wasn’t like she was handing over a fortune to the marigold-painted metal container. It was just frump-a-dump threads that she never wanted to see again.
She tucked her chin into the trench coat knowing full well that it didn’t matter in this weather. She’d left the umbrella in the car or in her apartment or maybe with Lindsey. She sprinted back to the sensible car where she shook her head like a naughty golden retriever, sighed, and then put the car back into drive for a less-than-quick getaway. Katie felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted. It was only now that she realized she’d begun dressing like her mother. A wave of nausea hit her with that thought. She rolled down the window just a bit and turned on the air conditioner. Never, never again would she do that again, she promised.
Katie pulled into the parking lot in behind her building. She jogged up stairs to the door, still pretending she could avoid getting wet. As she bent over to shove the key into the lock, someone blocked her light. Her body tingled as she waited for the person to pass. The shadow did not. It just stood there cutting off light. She willed her hands not to shake. She was brave now and righted her body, inhaling to puff out her chest. A man’s hand clinched her upper right arm.
“Take me into your apartment.” The man had an urgent, low voice—smooth maybe. It did not instill confidence though. She rotated her neck just enough to see the stranger. She twisted the knob and burst through the door, almost losing his grip. “You’re going to tell me all about your visit to Tschida Skins.” Then the man shoved her away from him. “You’re going to show me your Skin.” Katie stumbled before reaching equilibrium and backed into her kitchen. She did not own a Skin all the skin she had was natural. She hadn’t done the skin with the big S kind of training. “And we’re going to take a ride together.” A chill snuck down her spine. Rides were strangers meant bad things. She kept a hard stare at the man while feeling around in her sink. Her mind raced, thinking up ideas of not letting something terrible happen to her.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She kept her voice cold, uncompromising. It was far stronger than she felt. If ever there was a time to be brave, this was it.
The man walked towards her like he owned her apartment and his shoulder moved slightly. She ducked but still felt the breeze of his fist pass her head and blast through the cupboard door as she yanked the small pot out of the sink and swung. It landed impetuously on his shoulder and clanged as it hit the linoleum. Katie’s mouth dropped at her failure. Her brain screamed “run!” and she fled. The man was on top of her, forcing them both on the ground, landing on her knees, elbows. She reached out in desperation, grabbing onto a chair leg with her left hand and a running shoe in the right, taking them with her as he dragging her back into the kitchen. Her trench coat coated the carpet with water.
Where were her keys?
He dropped her legs, allowing her to squirm. She released the shoe to hold onto the chair leg and then threw it up at him. He hadn’t expected it and the contact gave her a moment of reprieve. She scrambled up, seeing the pot. She knocked him on the side of the face, which really angered him thus pleasing Katie. He yanked a reflective chief’s knife from her butcher block. All of her possible weapons like another knife, her heavy cast iron pan, even a blender, were behind him.
“No matter what they taught you, I’m far better trained,” he mocked. She grabbed the candlestick on her table and chucked it at him as hard as she could. Before she could look where it went she heaved the rest of her chairs in there with the oranges she’d left in a bowl. Then she sprinted off into her bedroom, locking the door behind. Her panting was lost on her as she shoved her red tulip-shaped chair leveraged under the knob. Katie ran to the glass door, ripping vertical blinds off the track as she open it. She scaled over the balcony, holding onto the metal to bars. She looked down, knowing she couldn’t land on the cement two floors down. Her bedroom door exploded as she jumped from a sitting position on the railing with feet against the bottom of the bar to holding onto her neighbor’s balcony railing and legs bouncing against the concrete slab protruding from the building. The contact wracked her body and she almost dropped. But her hands did not waver. She held on long enough to climb up.
The man tore onto her balcony, swearing at her. She backed up against the opposite side of the balcony and watched at the man looked down and then back at her. He neared the side nearest the neighbor’s and placed his large, dangerous hands on the railing before trying to get his foot next to his hands. He glanced down again and stopped. She could feel it. For some obscure reason, he didn’t want to jump.
Katie’s right hand touched the sliding glass door as she continued to stare at the man half ready to leap over to kill her. He couldn’t commit to it. The door slid along the track. The color drained from her face and her eyes filled with tears and she slipped inside her neighbor’s bedroom. The latch clicked.
Katie had managed to get out of the neighbor’s house quickly. The two homes shared the inside wall and nothing else meant the neighbor’s door faced a different hallway. She’d run into her car and reached into her pocket. Without thinking she’d put the keys back before the melee had started. She’d turned the opposite direction she would normally turn and heard the sirens screaming towards her apartment. The man would leave and try to find her. She’d kept going until she’d found a parking structure where she could hide long enough to do a search for help.
Katie crouched, waiting for a return of a home owner, in the bushes next to a townhouse that needed some form of identity or spark of individuality. Her comfortable shoes and socks were soaked and she’d sweat through her shirt, or at least it felt like it. However, she hadn’t seen the terrible man again.
Headlights flashed as the owner stopped. She tensed up and tightened her grip onto the bush when she realized the car had two people in it. She swallowed, rose when the headlights went dark and cleared her throat.
“I need some help,” came out husky and warbled.
“Wren?” Leo tested her name and his brow furrowed. She bit her lower lip and tasted blood. He neared her. “Damn, Katharine,” she wondered for a second if the woman was named Katharine too, “You certainly are a special snowflake.” What did that mean? Before he continued his thought he turned to the woman and made some form of apologies and lied that Katharine was a cousin. Katie nodded like an idiot as if she could possibly give credence to this fable. She stood dumbly by as Leo gave the woman a kiss good night before the woman drove away in her own car.
~Raging and quivering female mass of hormones
This message was edited by the author on May 29, 2012 at 2:50:19 PM
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