"... she smiled and walked away"

            It was a dark winter’s night. I buttoned up my trench and stuffed my icy fingers into the deep pockets of my trousers. Just one more block to go and I would be home sweet home, cuddling on the couch with my wife and a cozy blanket. I had taken-away dessert from her favourite road-side stall – a bowl of red bean soup. The heels of my winter boots clicked against the uneven pavement with a rhythmic pattern. Click, clack! Click, clack! That was the only sound I could hear on that empty street. I shivered, hurrying along, longing to be in the warmth of my apartment.

            Ten steps. I was ten steps away from my apartment building. Ten steps away from home. Ten steps away from safety. I was ten steps away when she ambushed me, wrapping her muscular forearm around my throat, choking me. I gasped for air and wriggled my hands frantically, attempting to escape, as she dragged me into the dark alley. I felt the red bean soup splash against my leg as the container fell to the ground. It was my wife’s favourite; she had been craving it all week. That made me furious, so I flexed every muscle in my body to try and fight her off. I thought I had succeeded when I felt her grip on my neck loosen… but I was wrong. She was turning me around to face her.

            I was shocked. She had a disfigured face, the wounds on her face accentuated in the moonlight. She had dark hair and looked somewhat familiar – but if I knew someone with a face as disfigured as hers, I would be able to remember her. No. I definitely did not know her. So what was it she wanted from me? Money? As she pushed me against the brick wall, thoughts ran through my mind. “She’s not going to harm me, is she?” I wondered. “Oh man, my wife must be worried sick,” She pressed her right elbow against me to prevent me from escaping, her left hand tracing my face, pulling my chin towards her. I stared at her disfigured face. What an eerie face she had.

            “Wilson,” she sneered. “Long time no see,” she hissed into my ears. Chills ran down my spine. She knew my name. Who was she? Her voice sounded so familiar but I could not wrap my mind around it. Impossible. I had never met this lady before. She pulled a knife out from her back pocket and it glistened. I gulped. She chuckled. Clearly, she was enjoying it. Did I owe this woman something? It sure felt like she wanted revenge. I could see the reflection of her face on the shiny knife. Extremely sharp. It could easily kill me. I pondered over the possibility of me dying that night – what would my wife do? How would she find out? My heart raced as I prayed this woman was not as crazy as she looked.

            “Remember me, Wilson?” she whispered, her cold breath on my cheek. Disgusted by her, I felt like throwing up. But that voice… where had I heard it before? The young girl working at the bakery across my workplace? Or was it that nerdy music teacher at my sister’s school? I simply could not match those pretty faces to this ugly, disfigured woman. It was boggling my mind. Who was she?! “Of course you don’t remember me… look at me now!” she growled, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at her. “Look… at what… I’ve become…” she said through gritted teeth. My knees went weak. I was afraid. Very, very afraid. This woman was insane.

            She kicked me in the groin and I moaned in pain. Knowing I would not be able to escape, she let go of me and I collapsed to the ground. She turned, her back now facing me. “Wilson…” she said, and I could tell by her voice, she was holding back tears. And suddenly, it came back to me – memories started flooding my mind. Her long, black hair I loved to run my hands through. Those watery eyes she had. The way she sounded whenever she was sad. The way she said my name, holding back tears, ten years ago. The way she had just said my name.

            “Jenny?” I gasped. “Is it you?” I stood up and reached my hand towards her. She turned to face me, growling furiously, tears streaming down her scarred face. “Now you remember me, Wilson? Remember this girl you left all those years ago? Except, it’s not me anymore! I’m ugly! Nobody wants to look at me! Look what you’ve done!” she spat at me. She pushed me to the ground and I lay there helplessly, still in shock. “This is for ruining my life, Wilson,” she screamed as she pierced the knife in her hand through my heaving chest. It got harder and harder to breathe. “Why, Jenny? Why?” I managed to croak. “Just returning the favour, sweetie,” she said. She smiled and walked away.

(22/5/14)