Page 2 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

I might need to up my game and finally purchase a gun. I've just always been worried I'll fail to use it correctly in a moment of need, and my attacker will snatch the gun from my grip and use it against me.

Well, I don't have a gun now, so that's a future concern.

The line finally moves, thank god, but there are still four people ahead of me. I had another sleepless night and today I have a lot of numbers to crunch for an important client. Ineedmy two shots of espresso. And I don't want to cause a scene if I'm just panicking for no reason.

I had an unsettling dream last night. I can't remember the details, but I woke with a thundering heart and I was sobbing. My day started in a triggered state, so that's likely why I'm so on-edge now. The entire morning, I felt like someone's been watching me, but really, no one is there. My only company is my paranoia.

I need to push through this anxiety. The stranger isn't moving; as long as he stays there, it'll be fine.

I glance at the woman now talking to the cashier. She finished ordering and is pulling out her wallet, so it should only be a few more minutes.A few more minutes.If the man just stays there and—

He quirks his mouth and stands, going completely off-script. I watch from the corner of my eye, hoping he's leaving, but he's walking straight toward me.

Fuck making a scene.

I spin on my heels and power walk to the closest glass door exit, accidentally knocking a muffin from a woman's hand in my rush.If this were any other day where I skirt through life unnoticed, I'd apologize profusely and offer to buy her another one. But my safety is most important.

She cusses at me with quite a creative string of words as I run through the door. I crash into another person outside on the chaotic sidewalk.

"S-sorry," I mumble to him or her or whoever it is. I don't look, I just hurry away, weaving through the jumble of bodies.

I glance across the street to a bagel shop that's hiding in the large shadow of a skyscraper. No police officer this morning.No, no, no.My pulse quickens and my lungs squeeze. Why isn't that police officer there like always? Does he have something better to do than chat with his friends and take an extended break?

It's fine. I'm still safe in the crowd. Crowds are safe.

"Hey," a deep, masculine voice calls from behind me. The voice cuts through the low rabble of other people. "Wait up."

I push around a group of women in navy pant suits, hurrying toward the crosswalk and hoping I reach it before the light changes.

"Hey," he says.

He's closer now. His voice is louder.

"It's me."

I'm not going to make it to the crosswalk in time. I sense a tall, broad body behind me, so I yank the mace from my purse. I spin to face him, letting out a short scream, threatening to spray him right in the damn eyes.

The man behind me stops abruptly, staring at me with heavy grooves cut around his wide nose. It's not the man from the coffee shop. Actually, I don't see the guy from the coffee shop at all, only a sea of neutral strangers.

A woman pushes past me. She approaches the man and greets him. Then they both glance at me, the crazy person clutching the can of mace and threatening to harm two innocent people saying hi to each other.

Heads turn in our direction; more male gazes are on me, noticing me.

I inch away.

"You okay, miss?" the man asks me.

I don't answer. Instead, I almost trip over my own feet as I scurry to the crosswalk. My heart is still pounding in my throat as I squeeze the mace in my fist. My body is trembling. I wait for the little green LED man to appear, telling me I can cross and escape what just happened.

As I wait, my panic is quickly replaced by embarrassment; the guy from the coffee shop wasn't looking at me after all. He's probably still back there, getting his coffee or chatting with whoever he was actually noticing.

I'm okay. No one is after me. I'm just… bat shit crazy now.

Damnit, why did I react like that?

My dream spooked me too much and launched me into this 'irrational zone.' It's good to be aware of your surroundings, but what I did was a step too far.

People pile around as I return my mace to my purse and try to take some calming breaths. I close my eyes, attempting to center myself again. I repeat my mantra quietly—I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe—until my heart stops pounding and I can inhale fully. Then I open my eyes.

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