Nowhere to Run

As Maggie recounted the story to yet another police officer for the third time, her own words became increasingly ludicrous to her. A naked man popped out of her closet, threatened her, kissed her, and stole her dinner. Even though all of this happened within the hour, she couldn't remember much about his appearance. The best she could do was describe him as tall, Caucasian, not fat but not skinny, with a beard and bad b.o. That described about half of the crowd that the police cars attracted once they arrived. He also considered her a 'neighbor', which was disconcerting. The constant questioning had her quickly regretting her decision to get others involved.

"And his eyes were...brown? Green? Blue?"

"I don't know," she answered from the only seat in the house in the kitchen.

He looked up from his notes. "You said he got in your face and stared your right in the eyes...and you don't know?"

Maggie felt rightfully indignant. "I was...in shock."

She hadn't even considered the idea of them not believing her before that moment. This was the first time the she had nothing to hide from the cops. She didn't have to lie about who she was with, what she had been doing, or if she was under the influence. She was clean. It all happened, yet the face that the officer made at her when she couldn't recall the stranger's eye color made her realize that her faith in the authorities had been tragically misplaced. Then the real weight of the threat that the stranger had made to return became all too real.

Possibly overhearing, a female officer approached and told the asshole he was needed elsewhere. Once alone, she turned her attention to Maggie. "How are you feeling?"

"To be honest, I kind of just want this to be over," Maggie responded honestly with her head in her hands.

"Would it make you feel better to know that every woman I've ever spoken to in similar situations like this feel the exact same way?"

"Not really."

"They all say that, too. You're very brave to..."

"Enough," Maggie snapped in aggravation. First Gloria and now this lady. She was tired of the patronizing tones and empty, saccharin sentiments from all of these people who pitied her. Still, she knew better than to take it out on someone who only wanted to help. This was, in fact, the kind of kindness she had to rely on heavily in the past. So, once again, she caught herself. She didn't know what else to say, so she just apologized. "I'm sorry. I'm just...sorry, I'm..."

"We're going to catch this guy."

"Before or after he kills me?" She blurted out without thinking.

Bless this officer for showing genuine concern. "Do you have someone you could call? A neighbor? Family? A friend?"

"No." Even if all of her former friends she'd been forced to cut ties with were anywhere close to her, they only knew how to fix any and all problems one way. The last thing she needed was to be tempted by her vices in this period of high stress. She couldn't call Gloria because then she'd feel obligated to tell her father and, given her history of lying, she wasn't sure he'd react all that differently than the other cop. He may even accuse her of making everything up in order to get him to give her one of his nicer properties closer Philadelphia where her old life was. "There's no one."

"There are several shelters that take in people like you if you feel unsafe. I'll pull up some numbers..."

"You know what? There is someone." Maggie pulled out her phone and sent a text. She waited a moment and looked back hopefully at the officer with a forced smile. "They said they'd be here in half an hour."

The officer hesitated, knowing full well that she was being very politely stone walled. "I'm going to leave these numbers with you along with a few hotline numbers just in case. Okay?"

"Sure." Her painted smile was still starting to chip.

"Someone from investigation is going to give you a call and probably set up a time for you to come in. They may show you some pictures of known troublemakers in the area to help jog your memory, okay sweetheart?"

"Sounds great," was all Maggie could say.

The hustle and bustle began to settle as the authorities left her home. Pretty soon she was alone. The thing she craved for so long now terrified her, and she immediately went to lock and barricade all forms of entry. For such a small place, it sure had a lot of windows. There was the bathroom window, the window at the end of the hallway, the bedroom window, the giant living room window, the kitchen window and, of course, all of the doors with windows in them. Maggie didn't feel safer. She didn't even have a bat or anything to protect herself with. Terrified, she locked herself in bathroom for the night and thought of Kim. God, did she miss her. Kim would have made everything better in all of the wrong ways with the kiss of a needle. Then, they'd make love over and over again. But Maggie was the lucky one. Not Kim. Maggie got out and was here now. Kim was...somewhere else, she guessed. She hoped.

She looked at her phone which still had her last text pulled up. It was to Kim and was marked undelivered. She began to type out a new message.

'I miss you," it read. Then another. 'I love you.' Again, undelivered. 'I want to fuck you one last time.' It went on like this until Maggie fell fast asleep against the toilet. Something she sadly had been no stranger to.