I had drunkenly stumbled out of the “Midnight Tavern” a place I normally went to drink. Everything was blurry and distorted;I had started to feel vomit bubble up in my throat. That night I had exceeded my normal drinking limit, but it’s not every day a woman receives divorce papers from her husband of 14 years. I ruffled through my bag in an attempt to find my keys; they weren’t there. I must have left them in the bar I thought. I started to make my way back when I heard a woman’s voice behind me “These your keys?” she said in a Russian accent. “Y-yes, I think so,” I said trying to gather my words. I started to walk towards her; tripping every few steps. She handed them to me and no more than 2 seconds later I dropped them. I gave her an embarrassed smile and started to bend down but before I could reach them I was shoved down onto the hard concrete ground.
I tried to get up, but everything was spinning and I could only make it to my knees. Her sharp black nails pierced into my stomach like daggers; she lifted me up. My mind started to spiral; who is she, what does she want? I made a pathetic attempt to elbow her, but she had me in a lock and the only thing I could do was struggle. I was about to scream for help when the woman pulled out a razor-sharp knife and held it to my neck “If you scream I’ll kill you” the woman whispered. I gulped back my tears “What-what do you want?” I said in a shaky voice. “Right now, I need you to get in that van” she pointed at a gray van at the end of the parking lot. As she walked me to the van I begin to look around hoping that I would be able to spot someone, but it was 11 pm in the parking lot of some bar nobody really knew. We finally reached the van; she shoved me into the back, there were no seats, just a rough carpet floor. A few seconds later she got in with me and closed the door behind her, she was now sitting next to me clutching the knife in her hand and staring at me intensely. “Please, I have two kids,” I said frantically now with tears streaming down my cheeks. She looked at me completely unfazed. The van started to move; the windows were covered with tape so I couldn’t see outside, and I couldn’t see who was driving as there was a barrier
“What do you want, is it mo-money? I can write you a check!” I said stumbling my words. “You think this about money?” the woman scoffed “Damn you’re stupid”. The woman started to light a cigarette, she was quite beautiful actually; she had pale white skin, jet-black hair in a low bun, light brown eyes with specks of black, and plump red lips, she looked much younger than I, most likely in her late 20’s. But in my head, the same thoughts kept repeating: Who is she? What does she want with me? And where or to who is she taking me to? “ How old are your kids?” she said turning to me “6 and 11, the youngest a boy and the oldest a girl,” I said slightly confused at your question. “My mother died when I was 12 years old. Yes, it was sad, but I survived and I’m sure your children will too” I almost choked on my breath “W-what?”. “Oh, don’t act so full of yourself, you are as insignificant as a grain of sand. Sure, your husband and children will grieve, but as life goes on they’ll move on.” I thought for a second; would Mike grieve over my death? Or would he be relieved he wouldn’ t have to go through the hassle of a divorce? This question bugged at me and for a second I thought I was going to be sick.
Suddenly the van made a sharp stop and I fell forward, the woman laughed and said something in what I thought was Russian. A few seconds later the van door opened, right in front of me was another woman in a ski mask “Hello Rosie” she said. She took her mask off and smiled at me, any remaining color had flushed out of my face and I sat staring in terror and disbelief. “Hello Rosie, remember me?”
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