In the midway between sleep and consciousness it was like something in my brain had clicked. Suddenly I was wide-awake. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, something was wrong. I threw the sheets off me and toppled onto the floor landing on my feet causing a thud. It was the middle of the night and I couldn’t see a thing. My eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness as I slowly stood from my crouching position, feeling my way towards the door. I fumbled for the handle of my bedroom door, flung the door open and rounding a bend flew down the hallway towards the front door, my exit, my escape. I anxiously awaited my freedom and the feeling of fresh air reaching my lungs. Sweat began to bead on my forehead, not from my flight to the door but from nerves. As I neared the front door I got that feeling, the feeling that creeps into the pit of your stomach on those dark lonely nights telling you something is not right.
And then it happened. Instantly I was surrounded. I counted five but it was hard to tell. Panicked, I made one last lunge for the front door but when I opened it I found myself face to face with another intruder. I stumbled backwards in shock. By now the five I had counted earlier had come out of the shadows and were closing in on me apparently I had counted right, so far there were only five of them minus the dude at the door. I could see them all clearly now from the moonlight streaming in through a window, a window I just now noticed was broken. There was a full moon out tonight. It took me a second before I realized I recognized one of them; the intruder in the doorway.
“Rico?” I questioned accusingly. Ignoring me he stepped inside and made himself at home.
“What are you doing here Rico,” I said menacingly.
He then threw himself on the couch, taunting me. “Love the outfit. Really, you dress up just for us?” he sneered.
Rico and I used to go the same middle school before he got kicked out. He was short for a guy with black hair and dark skin. He wore baggy jeans and a ghetto shirt with a naked woman on it.
I kept my mouth shut because I knew he wanted me to go off on him, wanted to get a rise out me, and if he thought I was going to play into his hands he was wrong; I knew how guys like him worked. It was two a.m and I was in my pj’s. My hair was sticking up at all ends, I wore an overlarge T-shirt that hung to my knees, and sleep shorts. I was barefoot down to my last pinky toe; no giant funky pink bunny slippers for me. I suddenly felt very exposed standing there in just my t-shirt and shorts.
I crossed my arms over my chest, “What do you want Rico?” I repeated demanding to know what he was doing here.
He stood, I started to take a step back but stopped, I would stand my ground. I wasn’t afraid of him. This was still my house.
“No, I mean it,” he cocked his head as if pondering something. “Mickey, how cute,” he said indicating the insignia of the Mickey Mouse caricature displayed on my t-shirt, letting his fingers play over the edge of my sleeve.
I slapped his hand away hard enough that it made a
sound. It surprised him. I continued to glare at him. At that he threw his head back and let out a laugh that sounded more like the squawking of a dying chicken. I was very aware of the people at my back however; I was more focused on Rico. I had to admit they had me cornered. The only thing I could hope for is they get on with what they came for. I knew this wasn’t the best idea but I was tired of feeling like a sitting duck. “Hey Rico are you all talk and no walk?” This got his attention.
He got right up in my face, “what's that?”
“You heard me, what are you doing here besides to take up space on my couch?”
That got him, anger flashed across his face for a split second and then he was Rico again.
“Well amigos looks like the chica here would prefer we get down to business,” he said grinning.
This time when he stepped towards me I stepped back for when he looked at me only one word came to mind, “prey”.
He turned away from me, and then caught me by surprise as he slapped me so hard I fell to the floor. I tried to get back up and was halfway there but he shoved me back down. I struggled but froze when he pulled out a switchblade. I swallowed the gasp that had formed in my throat as my eyes followed the switchblade closely. He held it to my throat. The thought of that cold steel against my skin never left my thoughts for a second.
Rico was grinning at me, watching me squirm. I stared straight into his eyes giving him the coldest stare I could muster. The smell of cigarette smoke smothered me, made me want to gag, Rico reeked of the junk. He pushed the blade threateningly closer to my neck.
“We have a message for you little chica,” he said. Then he leaned in closer positioning his mouth directly beside my ear.
Whispering in my ear he said each word slowly and with precision. “You … ever… come… near… the… Snakes… territory… again, I’ll kill you”.
My eyes widened. The Snakes were a street gang. Commonly known gang members had snake tattoos to mark their membership. I glanced down at Rico’s forearm and there it was, the Snake tattoo. I had noticed it earlier, but thought nothing of it. Rico was part of a gang, when had this happened? This must be some part of his initiation to prove his loyalty.
Rico then let the blade fall away. He stood. I wanted to get up however, I waited for them to leave, not moving; hardly breathing I watched them walk out the door one by one. When they were gone I let out a huge breath of air that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, relief washing over me. I stood, happy to be upright again. I went to the front door and very decidedly locked it as if that would keep all the bad guys away.
“First things first,” I said thinking out loud “I have to get cleaned up.” I needed to wash the stench of those creeps off me, and headed toward the bathroom.