⚠️mention of harrasment, please be guided⚠️
Third Person's PoV
Skyler Greene was unaware of the time's swift passage until the clock neared eight. The journey home remained a blur, her memory offering no clues. She found solace in the familiarity of her bed, her grip on Bren unyielding as she lay there, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
The thunder roared outside, a testament to the storm's fury, yet Skyler declared herself unafraid. The tremors that once shook her frame had dissipated, leaving only the warmth of her tear-streaked cheeks. A touch to her face confirmed the heat radiating from the skin, now marred by a distinct bruise — the imprints of fingers etched into her delicate flesh. In the solitude of her tiny apartment, Skyler confronted the aftermath of the day's turmoil, her resilience shining through the vulnerability of her bruised visage.
With the weight of her recent dismissal heavy on her shoulders, Skyler Greene knew she couldn't afford to alienate Macy, her sole confidante. The thought of facing hunger in her modest apartment sent a shiver down her spine, one not entirely due to the chill in the air.
"I guess I'll go now, Bren," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as she bit her lower lip in trepidation.
She donned her favorite jacket, a small comfort against the brewing storm, and secured her apartment behind her. The journey to the bus stop was a battle against the biting wind and the sporadic thunder that seemed to mock her with its might. The dim streetlights cast eerie shadows, doing little to ease the goosebumps that prickled her skin. The soft patter of her shoes against the pavement and the distant hum of car engines were the only sounds accompanying her solitary march.
Upon reaching the desolate bus stop, Skyler wrapped her arms around herself, seeking warmth in her own embrace. A glance at her wristwatch revealed it was already nine, yet Macy was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she was still on her way, Skyler hoped, her eyes scanning the darkness for a familiar silhouette.
Skyler contemplated the prospect of a late dinner, her pantry limited to two cups of ramen and a bottle of water. They seemed sufficient; hunger was a distant thought compared to the anticipation of meeting Macy.
The streets mirrored her solitude, both enveloped in an unwelcome embrace of loneliness. As thunder cracked violently close, Skyler flinched, her body tensing instinctively. She clutched her jacket closer, a makeshift shield against the storm's roar.
Asserting her courage, she reminded herself of her strength. "I'm a big girl, those thunders would not scare me," she whispered into the void.
Her eyes darted to her wristwatch, the hands marking 9:30. The comfort of Bren and her bed beckoned, yet Macy's absence loomed large. Skyler lingered at the bus stop, the minutes stretching into an hour. Ten o'clock struck with no sign of Macy. Rationalizations raced through Skyler's mind — an extended shift, a traffic jam — but the empty streets told a different story. It was not rain but the relentless thunder that kept company with her vigil.
Skyler's fingers danced nervously inside her jacket pockets, seeking a distraction from the growing unease. The sudden appearance of three ominous shadows jolted her, the alarm bells in her mind clanging with urgency. She bit down on her lip, the pain a sharp contrast to the fear that gripped her.
As the shadows loomed closer, Skyler retreated a step, her instincts screaming at her to flee. The men were imposing figures, their beards obscuring much of their faces, leaving only their eyes to betray the menace they posed.
One of them spoke, his voice dripping with mockery. "Oohh, what do we have here? A little trembling rat, huh?" The words slithered through the air, wrapping around Skyler like a cold, unwelcome embrace. She shivered, not from the chill, but from the dread that filled her.
"Macy! Where are you?" she thought desperately, her eyes darting around in search of her friend's familiar face. The safety of Macy's presence had never felt so vital as it did in that moment of vulnerability at the empty bus stop.
The first figure stepped forward, a sneer on his face. "Thought you could just walk away from us?" he taunted.
Skyler's response was calm and steady. "I'm n-not here to fight. I'm here to s-stand up for myself."
As the figure loomed over her, Skyler remembered the countless nights she had spent feeling helpless, the echoes of her parents' fights, the harsh words that were thrown around like daggers. But she wasn't that scared little girl anymore. She was a survivor, a fighter in her own right.
With a deep breath, she looked her challenger in the eye. "I've faced w-worse than you. I've battled my own demons, fought through anxiety and fear. Y-you don't scare me."
The second figure laughed, moving closer. "Big words for someone all alone."
"I'm not alone," Skyler replied, her voice unwavering.
The third figure remained silent, but his presence was just as intimidating. Yet, Skyler's stance didn't falter. She knew that true strength wasn't about physical confrontations; it was about standing your ground, about facing the darkness with hope and courage.
The figures seemed to hesitate, their confidence waning in the face of Skyler's resolve.
"We heard that Macy's friend isn't this strong. We've heard you're weak". The third figure finally spoke with clarity and amusement.
Skyler's world shattered in an instant, the truth slicing through her like a blade—Macy, her confidant, her only ally, had orchestrated this nightmare. The revelation hung heavy in the air, a tangible specter of betrayal.
Tears cascaded down Skyler's cheeks, each one a silent testament to the agony of deception. The men's grip was unyielding, their stench vile, their words venomous—a stark contrast to the safety of the friendship she once cherished.
The room spun around her, a carousel of chaos, as the gravity of Macy's treachery sank in. It was a moment of profound vulnerability, a soul laid bare to the coldness of the world.
Then, amidst the turmoil, a voice cut through the despair. "Let her go!" It was a demand, a plea, a crack of thunder in the silence of her plight. It promised hope, a chance for redemption, a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of her thoughts.
Skyler's heart clung to the words, a beacon in the darkness, as she braced herself against the storm of her reality.
***
Mary Joye.