This can’t shan’t
This can’t shan’t mustn’t cannot be happening. This cannot be happening to me. Did I pass out? Where am I? Am I alone? I hope I’m alone and then I wonder for a second why that’s what I’m hoping.
Only for a second, though, until I remember the alternative. Until I remember who would be here, if anyone was. Not that I know a name or a face or even a voice. All I know is that I’m in danger if they return. Much better to be on my own.
I knew it right away—dramatic and unlikely as that might seem. I knew I wasn’t being foolish, knew I wasn’t misguided or mistaken. I knew.
I knew once before, you see, one night when a man got onto a train and chose to sit near me in an empty carriage. I knew he wasn’t preoccupied with his own thoughts. I knew that no matter how fixedly he looked in the other direction, all his attention was trained on me.
After that night I swore I would never be polite again. I was done with what good girls and nice ladies get.
And yet here I am, here I am, here I am again and worse than last time, even though tonight I kept my old promise to myself.
Tonight I refused to worry about feeling foolish.
I refused to care about overreacting. I didn’t—for one second—consider waiting and seeing what happened next, when already in the first split second I knew.
Tonight, I screamed as loud as I could until I thought my lungs would burst, kicking and jabbing and ready to bite if I could.
I scrabbled desperately for something heavy, or sharp, and I would have lashed out like a .
. . I should think a falcon because they are the fastest, but what I imagine is striking like a rattlesnake, earthbound and vicious, out of nowhere.
Lashing out as I did caught them off guard; that was clear. And it bought me a second or two. But it didn’t work.
The next best time is now. I wonder if I made that up, or did I hear it somewhere? It doesn’t matter and I mustn’t let my thoughts drift. I must concentrate my wits, summon all my strength, and then, when I get the chance, I shall strike.
Only . . .
It is so cold. And it is so dark. And I have no idea where I am or even what kind of place this is or why this is happening to me. Or whether, in fact, this is really happening to me.
This cannot, it suddenly seems quite obvious, be happening to me. If I sleep, then when I wake, it will all be gone like a dream.