What was even more insane than hoping for a cat hero was plotting to get my journal and plant back from Merv the creepy landlord. I refused to let him have my hopes and my dreams—and my plant. I might have hit rock bottom, but I’d be damned if the last memories of me went tohim.
I slapped my palm to my forehead. Again, the guy in the suit from this morning seemed to scramble my thoughts, and all common sense seemed to slip through the cracks. I had left the window open in case of this exact scenario. Not being able to make rent and getting put out.
On a normal day, I would’ve had Journey with me, but Vera always stayed home. I mean, who carries a plant around? In case things got shady, I purposely left the window open so I could snatch her from the ledge.
With nothing but time on my side, I waited in the extreme heat, too far away to be seen, until night fell and I was sure Merv was probably watching porn for the rest of the night.
After securing my backpack, I climbed the fire escape as quietly as possible.
It was old, and with each step, rust fell to the street from my weight. My toes had a pulse and my stomach felt like it had an acid sandwich for lunch. No matter what people say, no matter how little you eat, you never get used to feeling hunger. There was a big difference between a growl and a roar. Or maybe there was a big difference between choosing not to eat and not being able to.
I had to stop halfway up to the second floor. My head became dizzy, and everything seemed to swim out before it righted itself again. I looked up, remembering why I had to do this.
Journey. Vera. My things.Mine. All that will be left of me.
Once I reached the third floor, my apartment, I peeked inside, not seeing anyone. Vera was on the ledge and Journey was underneath. That was right. I was trying to be artsy today.
Maybe I can sneak in and get my two shirts and one pair of shorts. My only pair of flip-flops.I even had a bottle of water in the fridge. It didn’t really keep things cold but cool.That will do me some good when I’m ratting the hot streets tonight. Maybe Merv won’t even know that I spent the night. That’ll give me an extra day to try and make some other kind of arrangement. It’s too late to get into a shelter for the night.I didn’t like staying there, either. I always felt trapped.
My eyes narrowed when one of the rats took his time walking across the floor. Yeah, they weren’t afraid. Most of them could take on a small cat, but dealing with rats was better than dealing with humanity.
Taking a deep breath, I fully lifted the window and climbed inside, feeling somewhat ahead. I never felt settled, not since I was ten, but “somewhat ahead” had become my normal.
A searing pain ran from my scalp to my neck. My hair was caught in a tight-fisted grip, and my head pulled back at an awkward angle. “I knew you’d be back,” Merv sneered in my ear. “And what did I tell you? The cost is going to be so much higher. You’re going to meet Big Merv tonight. Mari and Big Merv, sitting on that bed, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” He sang the last part childishly.
My heart raced, my palms tingled, and my mind worked overtime. The son of a bitch had been waiting for me! I had nothing in this nasty-ass place to even defend myself with.
He pulled my head back further, and I looked at him from the side of my eye. “You’re not all that pretty—thatnose—but there’s something about you…” He licked a wet trail from my chin to my ear, and I had to stifle the urge to vomit. His spit stunk. “Your body, though. I’ll have some fun breaking it in.”
Words. They kept soaring through my thoughts. I wanted to threaten him, to tell him that if he touched me, I would kill him. But in the moment, they were meaningless, flying because they held no weight.
He was right about one thing, though.
My body.
It was going to fight, even if this was the last fight we’d ever know. I started fighting him then, not caring what I did, but doing it anyway. We seemed to hit one wall, the stove, and then he rammed my head into another wall, this one closest to the window.
He let go for a second, breathing heavy (the lazy prick probably couldn’t even climb a flight of stairs without wheezing), and we did a sort of bob and weave dance around each other. I was hell bent on making it to the door. Screaming wouldn’t help, but it was a chance to outrun him.I had himthere,but he had mehere.Caged like an animal.
He came at me again, and I tried to go around, but tripped over my flip-flops. As soon as I went down, he grabbed me by the legs and pulled me further away from the door. He wheezed from the struggle, and I made some smartass remark about him not having to usually fight for his food. The girls down the hall paid him in sex all of the time, but they were more like corpses after they had hits of drugs.
Snot dripped out of his nose. His cheeks were bright red. His palms were hot, burning through my jeans, and his white tank was full of stinky, unhealthy sweat. I was able to get one leg loose and kicked out at him. I hit his knee and he groaned. My toes came completely through one shoe from the impact, but I was able to rise and make it to the door. Just as my hand went to turn the knob, he grabbed me by my hair again, yanking me back.
He swung me around, wild with anger, and put my head through the wall. Before I could even recover, he spun me around again and then slapped the shit out of me. He made direct contact with my nose before he went in for my eye. I barely registered the pain, only that I needed to get out.
I knew death was coming for me soon, but not like this. Not with this asshole taking me apart before he decided to kill me for the rats to have. That was probably how he fed them. I clawed and kicked and made noises that sounded inhuman, trying to muster the energy to continue to fight. I knew from the outside it probably sounded like we were having wild sex, because he was making nasty noises, too.
Somehow we made it to the window, and I had a feeling he was going to put my head through it. Maybe he decided fighting with me was not worth it. He’d just end my life and be done with it.
“All right!” I shouted, hardly recognizing the sound of my own voice. It was full of grit, but sounded so worn down. “All right! I’ll do it.” He stopped the motion, but his hold didn’t lessen. “I’ll…I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
The apartment was scalding—no air conditioning—and the only awareness I had of my injuries were the stings from sweat slipping into them. His hot breath flowed over me, like the heat of a million fires blistering my skin.
Slowly, without any struggle, I let him turn me to face him. He let my arms go, and as his mouth came against mine, the sweat from his hair splashing across my face, I reached behind me and grabbed Vera from the windowsill.
I hit him with as much strength as I could, smashing her small pot against his head. The pottery held together against his temple until I moved my hand and pieces of it crumbled to the floor. I was dimly aware of the stunned look on his face before snatching Journey, a piece of the terra-cotta pottery, and my flip-flops, and running as fast I could to the anonymity of the overcrowded streets.
4
