The distinctive threatening atmosphere of the night has the nape of my neck on its ends. An invisible emanation of lurk. My phone is dead, I can not alert the man to wait for me by the bus stop. This drop off is a famous mug spot. I jump out of the kombi my heart literally leaping into my month. I take a deep breath to muster all the courage and strength I need to strut down the dark road. It’s so dark I can’t see anything except the dotted lights ahead from nearby homes.
The culmination of unfortunate occurrence is strong. Shit I am scared. I am prepared to scream my lungs out and run as fast as my preggy legs can carry me. I clutch my purse closer to my side. I am on high alert, my eyes darting from side to side. I am walking in the middle of the road. I remember someone saying that it’s safer. The crunching sound of my feet hitting the gravel is making too much noise. Stealth mode is not so graceful with these preggy back aches. I don’t want to be raped or stabbed to death. Oh Lord, I am too young too die. A slight breeze and rustling leaves from nearby trees pokes my nerves. I am now thinking of all the horror movies I have watched. Maybe far off there is a woman in a flimsy white gown. The ghost of the weeping widow. Conveniently, I hear a distant sound of a howling dog.
I am almost home, just after the curve I am home. Emerging around the curve I can make out a figure. It’s a person walking towards me. Not when I am almost home! I can even see my gate from here. I move to the extreme left side of the road. I am trying to increase the distance between this person and I. The figure crosses the road to my side. I cross the road to the right. This can not be happening! The figure crosses back. What do I do? Turn on my heels and run back? That’s what I do, run as fast as I can while screaming like a mad woman. I can hear the thuds of footsteps gaining behind me. My life flashes before my eyes. I am thinking of my son. I knew I should have bought a gun. I always say this. Here I am, a preggy defenseless woman. I feel the steely arms wrap around my waist from behind. Well, I have lived a good life…I guess this it.The all too familiar musk of after shave engulfs me. He let’s go of me while laughing like a monkey on cocaine. It’s the husband, worried sick he took it upon himself to look out for me.
I am relieved, I am crying and cursing like a sailor. We walk back home, a massage is in order. My back is killing me, my heart is still racing, I am still hyper ventilating. Chamomile tea, a hot bath and that massage. I will never be this stupid again, put my vulnerable self out there and risking my life. I am getting that gun.