Turns out, our date was the calm before the storm. Late October hit with a massive amount of exams and revisions for my draft. I barely have time to eat, I rely on granola bars for breakfast and lunch, and ramen for dinner. Not very nutritional, but I'm cramming a lot of work into two very long weeks.
I always thought that professors coordinated with other professors, especially around midterms, to make students' lives hell. It is now confirmed. How is it possible that all of my midterms are days apart from each other? Other students, as far as I can hear as they talk on the phone, are complaining that they have two weeks of midterms because their professors are behind, but what about me? I'm taking all of them in a span of four days!
I have been a permanent resident in stressville for the last week trying to study and finish the draft. Once Monday comes, midterms come and that is the end. Whatever I study in the actual week the tests are administered is cramming and that just does not work for me. I like to be prepared, but I swear my hair is getting thinner from constantly pulling at it while trying to figure out something interesting to write for the prompts I am inevitably going to have to answer.
The one positive side is that I am definitely becoming a better writer. After my last meeting where I was told to "make your characters more relatable to your age group" I have read other works and am trying to make my characters more quirky. Apparently quirky is good in novels.
Pulling out my notebook, I walk through the library trying o find a quiet secluded area that isn't trumped with other studying students. The air smells of stress, vending machine coffee, and a fear of not studying well enough in time for the make-it-or-break-it exams.
From the corner of my eye, I see someone move outside of the window. Of course, this happens all the time, it is an open campus after all, but they typically don't have cameras pointing at you.
I dismiss the thought only a moment later when I find the perfect spot. I'm probably just being paranoid. If I don't pass my midterms there is no way I am going to pass my finals and I definitely won't pass any of my classes and then I won't graduate.
And I'm spiraling.
Being my last year, I thought it would be easy to navigate through tests and exams. I mean, I've done it countless times before, but this semester has been grueling and my time has been severely divided between my draft, my boyfriend, Amelia, and Brandon.
Taking a seat, I put headphones in, nothing playing. If people think you are listening to music they are less inclined to come up and talk to you. Now, I'm not trying to be rude or antisocial, but if I'm shutting out everyone else, I'm not going to let a stranger in.
I finally open my notebook, a figure standing outside of the window. I look out, but no one is there. Am I just imaging things?
Focus, Rose. Breathe in and out. Focus.
Taking my own advice, I lock my gaze onto my notes. As soon as I finish the next… thirty pages of illegible notes, I can go home and sleep.
Two mugs of hot chocolate later, the sky is dark and I pack up my things. The library has thinned out severely, everyone going to get dinner or ready for bed. Hell week is coming very soon and everyone is trying to balance the hectic schedules.
I speed walk out the library, one headphone in blasting music to clear my head of the material I just drilled into it. I need a break, I'm ready to drop from the exhaustion of sleeping around five hours a night and lack of real food in my system. I just don't have time to go to the grocery store, and every time I'm done studying the cafe is closed.
I open the door where I first met Damon and Brandon. It feels so long ago, but in reality, it was about a month and a half ago. A lot of things have changed and I couldn't be happier.
Walking past the alley, a figure jumps out blocking my way. I freeze. What the hell? He grabs me, fingers digging into my arm. In an instant, adrenaline floods into my system. This is not the right time for this to happen. Well, no time is the right time, but this is a really bad time. If I don't go to my midterms, I will be behind in all of my classes. I can't afford that.
Digging into my pocket, I feel the cylinder-shaped can of pepper spray that I always carry around, but have never had to use. Except for now. Twisting the cap so I just whip it out and start spraying like a maniac, my body is dragged further and further into the dark abyss. Why am I not screaming? I should be screaming.
I open my mouth and a rag is stuffed between my parted lips. Before I can take it out, he has both of my arms in his tight grips. I begin to panic. If I can't move my arms then I can't pepper spray him.
Remembering a lesson I read in a book once, I change my stance, my right knee slightly before my left foot. With as much force I can muster, I drive it up in between his legs hoping to get a direct hit.
He groans from the impact, bending over to lessen the pain. I never understood why they did that. Is it because they feel it in their stomach? Resolving to think about it when I'm safe, I drive my knee up one more time. I bash his nose, getting blood on my jeans. I really liked these pants.
"You, bitch!" He sneers, standing up. His face is covered with his blood. He spits, blood spilling from his lips. He lunges at me, arms flailing to grab my body. I leap out of his hold just in time so he misses. I start to scream, hoping to get someone's attention. Running out of the alley, he quickly catches up, wrapping his big burly arms around my torso. He smells of sweat and alcohol. I want to gag. He puts his other hand over my mouth, muffling my desperate pleas for help. How did no one hear me?
"Stop making his so hard for the both of us and just come quietly," he breathes into my ear. The goosebumps aren't the same ones I get when Damon whispers in my ear, these are straight out of fear. Is he really going to kidnap me? Is this actually happening?
Think. Think, Rose. We need to find a way to get out of this. We are not going down without a fight!
I panic, unsure of what to do. I've watched "Taken" but I never really thought that this could happen to me.
I reach into my pocket looking for my phone. Instead of the small rectangle, I feel a cylinder-shaped object. The pepper spray can! I make sure it is still open and without a moment's hesitation whip it out of my pocket and start spraying. He yells as the liquid hits his eyes.
He growls animistically, I don't wait to see his reaction. Instead, I take off in a sprint. I need to getaway. Reaching for my phone in my other pocket, I finally feel my phone. With shaky fingers, I call Damon. He should be able to help me.
The phone rings. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. Bile rises in my throat. He was my ride home. It's the only way we see each other lately. Finally, he answers the phone with a nonchalant "hey."
"I need you to pick me up," I say quickly, breathlessly. There is a sense of urgency in my voice that he immediately picks up on.
"Are you okay? I will be there in five minutes."
I pick up my pace when I hear footsteps behind me. I have been running this whole time, but my stamina isn't the best and I'm most certainly not the fastest.
"Hurry," I beg.
I turn a corner and all of a sudden it hits me that I know this place better than anyone. I have been going to school here for years. If anyone can lose another person on this campus it's me.
With renewed confidence, I take another sharp left turn and listen as the footsteps fade away. It's dark and without streetlamps, you can barely see your fingers in front of your face. I will definitely lose him if I stay quiet and don't hit anything.
I call Damon and tell him where I am hiding. There is an entrance to the science building that no one uses because it leads to a parking lot that is no longer on campus. It's the perfect place to stay hidden. Only a few people actually know that this door is here. Stepping inside, my lungs are burning for air and my breaths come out ragged I need to calm down and slow my breathing or he will hear. I take quick, short breaths to reduce the sound, but not enough oxygen is entering my lungs.
Not a moment too soon, I hear the sound of the car's engine outside of the door. I race out of the building and jump into his car. "Drive!" I yell.
He takes off a second later.