I made my way outside, just under the awning to smoke. I don’t even smoke: unless it is socially, or due to stress. This evening: it may have even been due to boredom.
I pulled my fur up around me as I lit the cigarette; to ward off the cold breeze.
I looked up to view a gentleman in a luxury Cadillac.
I immediately began sizing him up and by the looks of his suit and the Rolex watch that he donned on his wrist; it was evident that he had money.
“Hey are you ok?”
I waved my cigarette at him: as I told him, that I was just taking a smoke break.
“Would you be interested in having a drink with me?”
I never pick up dates off the street, but this was extenuating circumstances to say the least. I needed money and this did not really constitute ‘street walking.’
“Sure, I stated: “I’ll meet you in the bar.”
“I would love to, but I am here on business and don’t want to be spotted by any of my colleagues.”
He waved his wedding ring finger, as if to solidify his reasoning.
“Hey look, I understand your plight: of not wanting to get in a stranger’s car. If it will help; I will show you my license and you can call a girlfriend and let them know who you are with.”
I pushed back any foreboding feelings and reasoned within myself: “Surely he wouldn’t offer his identity if he were a threat.”
I let my guard down and made my way towards his car door; that he had already leaned in towards, to open.
And that quickly: I sped off into obscurity with a total stranger…
I eyed the man who sat next to me driving: “Hey you missed the turn back there.” I could already hear the blood pumping in my ears: as my heart raced; due to the surge of adrenaline in my system. Fight or flight, is the term that the professionals use.
He swerved down a side street at the same time: that I reached for the door; to jump from the speeding vehicle. I managed to get the door open, but my abductor quickly grabbed the leather belt on my fur coat and prevented me from exiting. I remember thinking, “I’m not going to be able to escape.”
The next thing I knew: I hit the pavement and rolled; but not before I viewed the car backing up, to run me over.
I died that night, at the hands of a cold blooded killer and I could only hope: that someone would care enough to look into my murder. Because, like so many things in life: things were not what they appeared to be; concerning my death.
I would be watching; even if it were from the grave…
© Suzanne Steele
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