It was an awful start to the day. The rain was of the fine variety, the stuff that seems to never hit the ground but just hangs about purposely to get you wetter and wetter. Jennifer lazily leant onto the window sill, sometimes looking out on the unfortunate shadowy figures that occasionally zipped by, and sometimes studying the ever-changing paths the rain water would make on its journey down the glass. There was a purpose to what she was doing; it served to make her skin feel like she was rolling about on a pile of furs in front of a roaring open fire. Thank God it's my day off, she thought, I'll make myself a nice big mug of coffee, a couple of rounds of toast, snuggle up on the sofa, and do a-b-s-o-l-u-t-e-l-y nothing. Jennifer normally had a session planned at the gym or something similar, as long as it was physical, on her day off; but not today.
She wiped the toast crumbs from her lips, sipped some coffee, and nestled into the sofa for a tough day watching the telly, still in her dressing gown. A dark figure flashed past the window, catching Jennifer's eye. The letterbox clanged and the hazy humanoid form raced back past the window as if going fast was going to stop them getting wet. Jennifer sighed as she began to drag herself up from the nest she'd made to retrieve the mail when something caught her ear.
'The average age of a first sexual encounter is decreasing; is this cause for concern and if so, what can and should be done about it?'
Jennifer slipped back into position, the mail can wait, she thought, as she turned her attention to the TV – 'Tell Tony', a talk-show, had just begun. Jennifer tapped her leg in time with the theme tune, her mind darting through the images of times past back to her own early days. The length of the journey gave her a shudder, but if anyone asked she was twenty four, and no-one's ever questioned her on it, yet.
It was a cold Friday night, November the nineteenth to be exact; it was Jennifer's birthday, her eighteenth birthday. Her parents had gone away for the weekend to some cottage near the coast, at her request. She'd pleaded with them to let her have some friends around for a party at the house; this was the only way she could get them to disappear for the weekend. If she'd told them she was going out to town to celebrate, they would have wanted to be there to make sure she got home safely and at a reasonable hour. Only 'safe' and 'reasonable' weren't the words Jennifer had in mind when it came to her eighteenth birthday celebrations. Also, the little black number she'd intended on wearing probably wouldn't have gone down well with the parents. Anyway, there were no restrictions on where and when Jennifer went, or what she wore, or on what time she should arrive home, if at all – it was all completely up to her.
The night was going great. Jennifer and her friends, for the first time, had been around the pubs and clubs and hadn't got asked for ID once (they'd spoke about 'a night on the town' for ages but had never actually got around to doing it, until now – Jennifer made them all promise, for her birthday). They'd had some fun with a few guys, dancing and flirting, and then moving on to the next ones. Their young, lean, scantily-clad bodies had attracted a considerable amount of attention, some welcome, some not so welcome. The scent of alcohol, cigarette smoke, aftershave, and perfumes mixed with the sounds of laughter, music, and chat-up lines created this whole new and somewhat 'dangerous' environment for them. The night wasn't even over when they were planning their next visit to this 'new world', a world where they'd suddenly come of age.
At about two in the morning the town resembled some African plain in migration season – there were herds of animals everywhere, all trying to get to some destination or other. Some of the females were a little unsteady on their feet and would make the perfect prey for a predator, whilst some were bright and happy and for whom the journey would be one of laughing and dancing all the way. Some of the males had collapsed completely and were destined to wake up, if they were lucky, abandoned and desolate having missed the migration; some were wide-eyed and alert and whom were going to make the journey in good time and led the way; and some seemed to have lost all control of their minds and were fleeting from violent boisterousness one minute to a mellow over-friendliness the next, and didn't seem to belong to the migration at all, they just wandered about in some sort of inebriated limbo. Jennifer and her mates belonged to the bright and happy herd.
As Jennifer, Joe, Charlotte, and Cheryl neared the growing queue for the fast-track migration route, the taxi office, there was a smash of glass followed by some shouting and hollering. Then another smash, this time followed by a rumble of boots. Suddenly the queue began to disperse like shrapnel from an explosion. Jennifer was ushered along in the chaos, her heart pounding. Men, big and small, were wrestling, shouting, fighting, screaming. Some women joined in, leaping on the backs of men like cats who were too brave for their own good, whilst others tottered about blindly in their heels, shrieking. Within minutes blue lights were flashing and some of the herd were being captured and thrown into cages in the backs of vans. The shouting, and screaming, and tussling continued. There were people running in all directions, desperate to evade capture. More 'trappers' arrived. Caught up in the panic and despite her high heels, Jennifer ran, and ran, and ran. It was about fifteen minutes before she regained her senses. She found herself working her way through a maze of streets desperate to get home with only the echo of her stilettos to keep her company. Shit, I wonder if Joe, Charlotte, and Cheryl got away, she wondered, cursing herself and her friends for having decided to leave their mobile phones at home through fear of losing them, and wasn't as if they were going to need them, was it?
Her mind raced as she hurried toward home. If they've got locked up, or God forbid, hurt...oh Christ, Dad's going to go mad, I know he is.... Her thoughts were interrupted when a hooded figure appeared dead ahead. A man, she was sure, at the far end of the street was walking directly toward her. She eyed him, trying to get some clue as to his intentions. Her heart rate started to increase again making her feel a little woozy, or it could have been the alcohol, or maybe a combination of both.
Is he on his way home? Or is he out on the prowl for some defenceless young lady stupid enough to be walking home alone at gone two in the morning? Fucking hell Jen...
Just then, a car screeched to a halt alongside her. She couldn't see very well, it was a poorly lit street, but there was definitely one guy driving and one guy sat in the back. The hooded man continued toward her. She could feel herself starting to shake a little. Don't stop for anything, don't talk, just keep on going, she thought as she fixed her attention on her feet, almost too afraid to look up. Her stride had become a little unsteady. The rear door of the car swung open. "A lift home luv?" a voice said, gruffly. She didn't reply; she couldn't. Head still bowed, she began crossing the street to avoid the hooded man. An arm slammed down in front of her and yanked her off balance, dragging her toward the car. She instinctively struggled with her attacker, wriggling, kicking, biting, and losing her little black hand-bag in the process. The hooded figure was racing toward her. Jennifer gritted her teeth in readiness to kick the hooded man right where it hurts, but he stopped just short of her reach and pulled his hood down.
"Leave the lady alone," he said, with a Japanese accent. The sense of relief made Jennifer's body go limp. Her attacker released his grip on her and she almost fell to the floor. "You looking for trouble, Jap?" he growled.
Jennifer scurried, backwards, through the gateway of someone's house, desperate to knock the door for help but at the same time compelled to see the outcome.