I lost my footing as I was walking down the snowy path home. I slipped and landed on my side. Tears stung my eyes as I felt my left ankle throbbing. Slowly, I tried to get up. The pain shot through my ankle all the way up to my thigh.
"Fuck!" I grimaced and cursed myself. It was Thursday night, and I had just spent the evening drinking and partying at a friend's. I was a little too drunk to drive, and because I live only a short walk away from my friend's, I decided not to take a taxi, and to walk instead. Which brings me to where I am now, hobbling down a snowy path, on a cold dark January night, cursing as my sprained ankle is beginning to swell.
I looked at my watch, it read a quarter after two in the morning. At least I was only a block and half away from my apartment. It would only take me a few minutes, then I would be warm and safe, and I would be able to get some ice on my foot. "Thank God." I toughened up and quickened my pace.
A deep shiver ran right through me. "Don't worry Sandra, it's just your mind playing tricks on you." I thought to myself. The wind in the trees was eerie and I could almost swear that I could hear the sound of someone else's footsteps.
I continued on. The pain in my ankle was getting worse, and a new burning feeling brought my attention to my elbow, where I noticed that blood was seeping through my light blue jacket. I groaned, and shook my head, when suddenly a hand clamped down on my shoulder.
A high pitch scream was about to make it's way out of my mouth, when another hand clamped down over it. The hairs on my neck stood up, and the shiver that ran through me earlier returned. I was terrified, and angry. I pitied the poor fool for coming at me like that. Within a split second I had grasped his arm, and turned my body away from his. I threw my fist out and decked him right in the nose. I stood there shocked, as my leg went out to kick him in the balls. It was Ethan, my ex-boyfriend's best friend. He crumpled to the ground looking up at me with a confused look on his face. I stepped away, yelling; "What the fuck were doing?"
He looked up at me and moaned, "I'm sorry Sandra. I didn't mean to scare you. When Carol told me you left and that you were walking home, I started sprinting down the path to catch up with you. I didn't want to let you walk home alone."
I bent over him to help him up. I was still angry and with the adrenaline still coursing through my body, I could no longer feel the pain in my ankle. Ethan's nose was bleeding and he had troubles getting up, his balls still aching from the blow. He looked at me and asked "Where in the hell did you learn to fight like that? Fuck!"
I just ignored him, and continued on my way. He groaned and caught up to me. "Sandra, I'm really sorry."
"You idiot, when you are following a girl home late at night, down a dark path, are your first thoughts always to grab her from behind and cover her mouth?"
"I'm really sorry; I didn't want to scare you."
"So grabbing me from behind and covering my mouth was an attempt NOT to scare me? Whatever."
We walked in silence after that. Finally, as I was once again hobbling, I made it up the stairs to my apartment. I started to calm down, and looking back at Ethan, I noticed the blood leaking down his handsome face. Shaking my head, I opened my door and told him to go in and take a seat. We were both in dire need of some simple first aid.
Putting my boots aside, my cat Dirty Frank and her kitten Mouser rubbed up against Ethan as he sat down. Both cats loved him and would stick to him like glue whenever he was over. It always amazed me because out of all my friends, he liked cats the lease. In fact, he really, just didn't like cats at all. He was always nice to Dirty Frank and Mouser though. He claimed the two cats liked him because they can sense if a person is genuinely good hearted or just plain mean. It made sense to me, although after tonight, I was starting to wonder if he was wrong.
