indecencies that would make my mother ground me for the rest of my life. All the while, I struggled and pinched and pushed where ever my hands could make contact.
“Shut up bitch,” he said grabbing my wrist above me before punching me, not that it stopped me from screaming, but it may have been a hopeless cause. Someone had heard me. I know it. It wasn’t that late. Cars were zooming down the street. And there was still some life in a few restaurants around this… what was it an old gas station? I guess it was one of those things people chose to ignore. Great, my story was going to be on the national news… I could practically picture the headline.
Ugh. People would think I was weak. That made me more desperate, so desperate I did something I hadn’t done in years… I cried. Well, more like sobbing. I didn’t know I still had the ability.
I was going to just wait for it to be over and then try to make my way back home. I would walk in the house, my mother would hear me with her superman ears and scream in mortification even though I’d be insisting I was fine, but actually a physical and psychological mess.
Was and would being the keyword in that rant. I never had to. Just when I thought he was about to penetrate, someone saved me. I didn’t really care how. I just wanted to get away and out of sight as fast as I could. I didn’t want anyone, especially some random male stranger albeit a kind one, seeing me like this, all helpless and weak like a woman.
“Wait,” someone said.
I tried to stand up and run then, even though my legs were like jelly. I fell over not because my legs gave way, but because my pants were still down. I tried to scream, but it came out as more of a whimper probably from all the screaming I had done earlier and the fact that I was still crying even though it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Oh forget it. It was bad enough. I was going to need therapy for life.
“It’s okay. I’ll help you.”
It was then I picked up on the fact that the person talking was a woman or a man that sounded like a woman in any case. It was confirmed when the person pulled me into her bosom and held me. Definitely a woman… dressed in robes? I looked up. It was then I noticed I couldn’t see her face not because it was dark, but because of the shadows of her black hood masking it. I pulled away from her and stared in amazement. This woman, this strong woman, was a person that only a percent of the world could say they had come across in their lifetime.
“You’re a-.” I coughed. I really had done a number to my voice.
“A what?” she asked and I could see the ghost of a smile on her lips.
“A Black Lady,” I added.
The Black Ladies were like legend. Something like a geisha to me. They were beautiful woman (well I don’t really know that, most of the time a Black Lady has her hood on. I guess it’s the fact that they’re so alluring) who entertained and cooked and acted just like what most people would say a proper lady should act. They were everything I practically disdained about being a woman. Tsh… They were a sorority with a bunch of backstabbing and envious dogs or so I assumed. There was no way a group of woman like that could be as perfect as everyone on the outside saw.
But even with all that, I saw something else that night. Something like a ninja. In fact, I hadn’t heard much of a struggle when I was trying to get away.
“Where’s-?”
“Dead,” she replied curtly.
I looked somewhere to the side of me and cringed when I saw the body. She had killed him.
“But you’re a Black Lady, not some ninja,” I said.
“Yes, that’s what the public sees, some alluring seductive woman, which we don’t do by the way. That’s just the way a titillating society like this portrays us as untrue as it is,” she added grudgingly.
I was confused then. Black Ladies weren’t the American version of a Geisha. Well of course they weren’t. Everyone knew they didn’t entertain men exclusively. But still, I never pictured them as warriors or something. I mean she had just killed that man. That man who just tried to…
“Oh my God!” I muttered. This was all so confusing.
“I’ll escort you home,” she said standing up and helping me up.
I leaned on her for support. She was strong even though she was even smaller than me. She walked me all the way to the door and made sure I could stand before she let me go.
“I would advise you don’t wander around at night,” she said softly but in a firm tone.
I actually took her seriously and I would have even if I hadn’t been attacked. I took out my key and opened my door but before I went in, she handed me something. My basketball.
“I think this is yours,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said taking it. I almost dropped it. Heck, I almost fell.
“You should get in Cleopatra,” she said.
If I hadn’t been so out of it, I would’ve asked how she knew my name. Instead I went inside and then looked back. The Black Lady was gone that quick… When I closed the door, I stumbled trying to go up the stairs and fell. So much for not waking up my mother…
About
Lady Dae is a nineteen year-old writer who mainly writes fantasy books for young teens and older. She has been writing for seven years and has over five books in the works.
For more informations Check out her blog:
www.ladydaewrites.blogspot.com
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