Olive's Pov
"Um.. I..I." Out of nowhere I begin to stammer displaying my absolute fear.
He holds his scornful expression.
No I can't let him see through me. I shake my head and swindle a wave of boldness.
I raise my chin and begin, "I am sorry that I jumped onto the road. I was being followed so I wasn't thinking much let alone care about a car coming out of the blue"
Before I say anything else he retorts "I don't see anyone here"
This man is just too much. All he cares about is what he can see and interpret from the current situation?
His cold demeanor is getting on my nerves.
I let out a deep sigh, trying so hard to hold my temper then continue "Yes I don't know where he went. The current problem of importance is that I have lost my way and I don't know what to do"
"Are you sure you live in the 21st century?"
I give him a confused look.
He rolls his eyes, "Don't you own a phone?"
Oh! So this is what he meant. I feel dumb all of a sudden. Why do I let my emotions run free all over my face?
I try to sound cool, "Duh! Don't you own a brain? Why would I run like crazy and ask YOU for directions when all I could do was call someone for help?
He remains silent.
Did I cross the line and offend him to the point that he might kill me?
Nonetheless, I am just a little girl in the middle of nowhere with two robust men.
I try to throw the ball in his court "If you are done with racking your brain, just give me the general direction. I can't stay here for long. Can't you see I am injured?"
I look down at myself. Wow I have a bruise on my knee with blood stains as well.
Does he not hold the slightest bit of sympathy for the injured, the victim? Well technically speaking my mental health was the real victim to this tragedy.
I start to feel tired. I can't hold up with all the politeness anymore.
Already I am so scared and my heart is beating fast. On top of that this cruel man is making my life more miserable.
I feel needles stinging my feet. I didn't realize I was fixated at the same spot.
Finally he addresses me again "You happen to have wasted my precious time and boldly continue to do so. How will you compensate for it?"
Period. I am done with him.
Like a crazy, wild bear I roar words on the top of my lungs "COMPENSATE!! I am the one who got injured"
He calmly examines me from head to toe "Just leave. That would be the best compensation for you to make. I am being generous (already)"
"Generous?"
"Yeah! Owing to your pathetic state what else can I ask for?"
I can't believe my senses.
A man who looks elegant on the outside is so crude on the inside. Talking to him even for a minute more will give me a hemorrhage.
I study his figure one last time. A pen peeps through his pants pocket.
I reach forward and grab it. My sudden action makes him shudder.
"Don't worry, I won't eat you. I am being generous" I blurt and walk towards his chauffeur who honestly had become a part of the background when I was talking to Mr. Cruel.
With a real polite tone and cute expression I say "Sir, Can you please draw the directions to the nearest bus stop on the palm of my hand?"
Confusion stretches across his face and he hesitates so I just plant the pen in this hand and extend mine towards him.
To my surprise it is smeared with blood.
"OH!" I gasp in disbelief.
"Never mind" I say and extend the other palm.
Why couldn't I feel the pain when I was glaring in Mr. Cruel's eyes?
The tip of the pen scrapes on my palm a few times.
"Done" he says giving me an assuring look.
"Thank you. I won't disturb anymore" I say with a smile and step out of the way.
The pain grows and my ankle is burning but I hold a tough expression.
Mr. Cruel gets seated ignoring me.
I study my palm and then look around. I feel happy I can find my way back.
Then I notice the car which is still there.
Mr. Cruel's window goes down "Drop the act already" he says then the car speeds away.
"Crazy" I mutter under my breath.
I start walking towards my destination but it is a real struggle.
'Why did I even bother asking for directions and squandering so much of my energy when my limbs eventually had to give up?'
'Why didn't I ask for help more pitifully instead?'
'I could have just thrown my ego away and begged for mercy.'
Such stupid thoughts wander in my head because I am petrified.
I am alone. I am stranded. At night.
And nothing can help.
What's the use of regretting?
So I give in and sit on the footpath under the lights, hoping that another car may pass by and help me.