Chapter 1: A Bad Night

Chapter 1: A Bad Night

Kira

I turned the key. The engine clicked twice. I sighed as I let the ignition turn back. With another twist, I tapped the pedal. The engine clicked then clicked some more.

I looked out the window to the darkened grocery store. I hated closing. It was the worst. The lights above from the "Discount Grocer", which was missing the last four and the first word completely, cast a yellow glow through my windshield.

I sighed heavily. I didn't much like the dark. I only lived five minutes away by car. I could walk. But... I didn't like the dark. With another flick and a kick, I tried the key again. The car responded with a series of clicks that sounded like a ticking bomb. I released my hold. I slammed my hands down on the steering wheel as a slew of curses left my lips. This was just fuckin' great.

I stared out the window down the street towards home. So close, yet so far. There were street lamps, but not the whole way. Well maybe there was, but a good portion of them have been burned out for so long they may as not matter. I would be fine though. I could do this. There was no reason to be scared. Yet, I could feel the fear creeping up my spine threatening to grip my heart.

I reached for my purse while still staring out the window. The handle caught on something as I pulled. Just as I looked down, the snag released sending the contents of my well-endowed purse tumbling across the seat and the floor of the passenger side. The purse itself hung from a broken strap in my hand. Well, shit.

I ran my fingers through my dirty blonde hair as I sucked in a calming breath. It didn't really work. I could feel anger and frustration bubbling to the surface. Why me? Wasn't my life crappy enough? Hadn't I suffered enough for one lifetime? Nothing had ever gone right for me. Was it too much to ask for one single night to not got to shit just one single time?

Muttering more curse words, I started gathering the fallen items and hamming them into my broken purse. Of course, I couldn't reach everything, because of the damned seat belt. I pressed my thumb on the buckle. My thumbnail bent back. I jerked my hand back and shook it then stuffed it in my mouth to stanch the blood and stifle a scream.

The seat belt threatened to choke the life from me. It was one of those that tried to save your life by never giving up. The more I struggled, the more it tightened. I pulled the thumb from my mouth then ducked swiftly beneath the murderous belt.

I looked back outside. I was pissed off enough now that the fear of the dark was pushed to the back of my mind. I swung open the door to my car. The hinges creaked with such protest I was surprised the door didn't just fall off.

As I stepped out, I whacked my head on the car ceiling so hard my vision went blurry for a second and triggered my vertigo. I held my head in my hands waiting for my swimming vision to settle. Oh my fucking god, could this night get any worse?

I stomped around the blasted car. Between the dark and the vertigo, I didn't see the yellow concrete parking block. I tripped over it. As I fell, my hands came out in front of me to break my fall. The pavement bit into them, slicing them open. My knees hit next. I could feel the fresh road rash through my slacks. Tears of pains sprang to my eyes. I squeezed them away as I looked down at the small bits of gravel embedded in my hand. I was so furious I couldn't even form words. I stood lowly, using my car for balance. I brushed of my slacks. They were dirty, but at least there weren't any holes. I really couldn't afford new ones right now. I contemplated kicking the damn car, but with my luck the parking break would fail and my car would roll backwards. I continued my trek to the other side of the car, this time stepping over the parking block.

After a good bout of fumbling with the key, I managed to open the door with very little harm to myself. I snatched up the rest of the purse's contents and shoved them in my purse. There was one more thing I was missing, and it was fairly important. My stupid flip phone. That's right, you heard me, a freaking flip phone. I should be exempt from all this bad karma because I was reduced to a flip phone, normally reserved for the elderly, the technically inept, and the very, very poor.

I knelt on the running board of the car and stuffed my head down next to the floor. I picked up the little key chain flashlight with a laser pointer at the other end. I pushed the flashlight on and scanned under the seat. The phone was almost all the way to the back seat. I reached my hand out for it. My fingers touched something sticky. I cringed. I couldn't even shake it off and I didn't know what it was. I squeezed my eyes shut and kept pushing forward. Finally my fingers grazed the phone. After another moment, the phone slid close enough I could wrap my hand around it and pull it to me. I shoved it in my bag then wiped my sticky hand on a napkin in the side door. I didn't even want to know what that was.

I pushed the lock down on the door and slammed the orange metal door shut. The door popped back open hammering me in the hip. That was going to leave a lovely bruise. I rolled my eyes at the stupid car. I leaned against the door and shoved it with my hip until it clicked shut, ignoring the fresh pain it called up.

I turned around to face the darkened parking lot. After a breath, I hiked the one working strap of my purse up over my shoulder then pinched it with my arm. After one more breath, I started my journey. I only hoped my night didn't get any worse.