Nadia Ross
The cool air and the siren from an ambulance nearby caused me to check my surrounding with extreme caution while shivering uncontrollably.
Achoo!
I sneezed loudly for the sixth time, sniffling as I wrapped my arms around myself before plopping down the bench set for passengers at the bus stop. A yawn escaped my pink lips as I settled in as best as I could. Using the back of my hand to cover my mouth, I shook my head to dispel the drowsy feeling I had been repressing all night as I sauntered from one client to another.
"Just some minutes more and you'll be home," I muttered sleepily, taking in the surrounding again out of fear before checking the time on my phone.
2:47 am
The thought of being alone on the street of New York at this ungodly hour had me praying for a bus to appear out of thin air. I wasn't comfortable walking the streets at night. Especially not after my coworker at the club, Hillary, was raped and murdered brutally.
Yet, here I was late in the night—or should I say early in the morning—stuck at the bus stop, waiting for a bus that may or may not come. My hope of getting some sleep before I had to open our bakery gradually strolling away with time. The sudden bark from a street dog nearby caused me to take my eyes off my phone to examine the area again like I hadn't already done it twice before. The whole street looked so deserted, except for some few souls hurriedly walking to wherever it was they were headed. I snuggled deeper into my old beat-up leather jacket that had seen better days, trying to starve off the early morning cold. This wouldn't have happened if someone with light fingers hadn't gone to pick my locker and stolen all the cash I had stashed in my pink granny purse.
With nothing to do as I waited, memories from late last night came crashing through the walls I had thrown them behind. And just like the time the incident occurred, my eyes brimmed with tears. I refused to cry then because I didn't want to satisfy some people. There was no way I was going to cry with them watching. I stupidly acted out of anger, trading common sense for pride by leaving when the sun hadn't even come out.
As much as I loathed the job, there was no denying that what I gained was worth the shame. The thought of losing the tips caused sweat to break out on my forehead. I had saved a lot within six months of working in that dreadful establishment. Losing it would mean losing something very reliable financially. Although the atmosphere was nauseating and disrespectful, the pay was very encouraging. It wasn't easy to strut around in black six-inch heels and undies as you served men from far and wide without a shred of regard for women.
Even though the pay was great, serving lewd men was not what I intended to do for the rest of my life. I just needed to have something doing. Apart from my job at the club, I also worked with my parents at their bakery. The schedule afforded me the time I needed to work on some cloth designs for this winter. Making clothes was my greatest passion. The joy I got whenever I made clothes for people was unexplainable. My biggest dream was to be one of the best designers at House of Daliah. The iconic fashion house was known for their top-notch designers and trendy outfits.
It all began at age ten when I watched the creator of the fashion house, Madam Daliah, on tv. She was everything ignited my love for fashion with her fiery expression when she spoke of her work. From that moment on, fashion lived in me and I lived for fashion. It's amazing how one little thing can set the course of one's life.
Thoughts of the future were the main reason I kept working for Gideon at the club. It wasn't a secret that I disliked him. The serpent couldn't keep his slimy hands to himself. Having slept with more than half of the girls, both exotic dancers and waitresses, the unsatisfied freak wanted to add me to his number of casualties. I called it casualties because that was what it was to me. No way was my first time with a man going to be with that soul-sucking parasite. It was astonishing that most of the girls found him attractive. They spoke of him with such abandon that I couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't charmed their brains out of their skulls.
A smile brightened my weary features as I imagined him swinging a coin in pendulum fashion, commanding the girls to find him attractive. What started as a small smile grew into a wild laugh as the image became a cringe-worthy film. I was still laughing when a car zoomed out of a corner and sped towards the other side of the road. I jumped up and watched in horror as the black chevy sports car narrowly missed hitting an old homeless man, who had picked that time to cross the road. The sharp turning the crazy driver executed to prevent collision with the clueless man caused the car to make an awful screeching noise before flipping three times. Everywhere became deathly still and quiet. The air was filled with enough smoke that I couldn't see much of the car, but I didn't think twice about visibility as I rushed to the car. As I got there, I found the driver was knocked out cold, with blood dripping from a large cut on the side of his head. I knew shifting him from his position could do more harm than good, so I tried to rouse him awake. I screamed 'Mr' repeatedly, waiting for an answer, but I got nothing. Turning my head to the side, I found the hobo staring at the driver with his bloodshot eyes, his lips blue and shaky as he repeatedly said the words.
"It's not my fault."
Not sparring any time for his meltdown, I grabbed him by the collar of his slimy coat and forced him to look at me.
"I need you to take my phone and call the hospital! Can you do that?!" I said loudly to get his attention, staring into his dark blue eyes behind his dirty face. He blinked slowly like his brain wasn't comprehending what I was saying which only got me incensed enough to snap at him to hurry. When he took my phone and went to do as ordered, I returned my attention to the stranger, trying not to panic as I saw the amount of blood he had lost. Still, in panic mode, I tried to free him from the seat belt that refused to budge.
It was at that moment I recognized him as the stalking asshole who tried to force himself on me earlier this night. The fool had even dared to inform me that I would be handsomely rewarded like I was some cheap prostitute. He was the reason I was about to lose my not-so-perfect job. I caught a whiff of gasoline and looked around. When I saw gasoline dropping from the tank, dread filled my body and the thought of abandoning this guy and saving myself occurred to me.
The homeless man noticed the leaking tank too because he took off running....with my phone in hand. I picked myself off the floor and turned to save myself only to stop after taking a few steps. My legs stopped cooperating.
'Move, Nadia. Move'
I yelled at myself, but I was stuck. My dreams and aspirations suddenly began to remind me of all I stood to lose if I didn't get a move on. I was so confused I didn't have any idea on what to do
'He is dead. He didn't answer your calls, remember? Do you want to risk your life to save a dead body?'
My mind kept pushing different thoughts to encourage me to run towards safety, but my legs refused to move.
"Someone please, help me." I heard the same voice that laughed at me as my boss publicly humiliated me for being rude to his long-time friend, crying out for my help. I remembered how angry I had been at that moment and the idea of retribution filled my head. Fate was handing me a chance to serve justice. I took a step and another step and then another away from the car. It got easier.
"Honey, what did I tell you?"
I heard mother's voice as clear as day whisper. I couldn't move again.
"To repay evil with good." I heard my eight-year-old self reply.
Tears streamed down my face as parts of a fuzzy memory came together to recreate the scene when my biological mother had come to take me home after I fought with Lizzy the witch in grade school.
"Lizzy deserved it though. She pulled Jamie's hair and called her a black hippo. She started it."
I pleaded with tears in my eyes for my hero to understand why I had punched Lizzy. Mom brought me close, burying my face in her chest before whispering into my red hair.
"Many in this world are wicked. We don't think about the pain we cause others. We only seek our happiness. Despite the wrong done to us, it pays to remain good. The reward for being good will find you, no matter how long it takes."
She pulled me away so she could use her hand to wipe away my tears.
"Good attracts good, Nadia. Be a good person."
Because of those words, I found myself returning to the upturned, damaged beyond-repair car.
And I began to save the last person on earth I felt like saving.