RUBY

A short story.

The cold air mimicked my breathing, as clouds of smoke filled the empty space. I walked down the streets of New York; each step I made illuminated by the street lamps as I pushed my way through swarms of people who were hurrying home, back to their warm apartments and equally warm families. It was a dark January night as I cuddled up into my woollen scarf, pulled the hood over my ears and hugged myself to give some warmth, not caring that I was wrinkling my work uniform underneath my trench coat. Normally I wouldn’t take the night shift, but lately I’ve been finding myself needing the money. Picking up the pace, I made it to the intersection and waited for the walk sign to flash, pushing the button anxiously as I bounced on the balls of my feet. However, the flyers all along the poll caught my eye; advertising two bedroom apartments for rent, cheap driving school lessons and local parties happening around the area. One flyer that made my heart beat in my chest was of a girl who had been missing for several days, Amanda Pierce; her sullen eyes haunted me. The flyer contained contact information from the police and a black and white photograph of a young girl who didn’t smile. There was something about her that sent chills down my spine. She was mentioned having brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a chain around her neck that said her name, like a dog wearing a collar. There seems to be nothing about her family, although I vividly remembered something I saw on the news that made me interested in her case. Her life was one of the saddest stories I’ve heard, her mom was a drug dealer and her dad left when she was 4 years old. She was an outcast at school and some new reporters called her disturbed. What seemed like a runaway turned into full investigation when the police believed she was kidnapped.

Amanda and I never spoke or ran in the same circles but we were the same age, from the same neighbourhood, and the only family we had was our moms. It was like looking at an alternate version of myself and seeing how my life could have turned out.

I was deep in thought when I heard a fire truck pass by, wailing loudly as the tires screeched on the cracked cement road and managed to fling bits of wet slush onto my clothes. Cursing under my breath I went to wipe it and saw the time on my wristwatch. 7:55 PM. Damn it, I was almost late for my shift. I couldn't afford to get my hours cut for my stupid mistake, so I sprinted across the street when the light turned green and headed to Rusty’s Diner, where all I did was scrub crusted syrup and jam off of tables and mop the floor occasionally. Some wouldn’t exactly like to do this, but I honestly didn’t mind, plus the money was good.

Turning the final corner to Rusty’s and pulling open the door with a loud huff, I was met with dozens of questioning eyes all looking in my direction, as if they were staring into my soul. For a second I forgot why I was there, getting lost in the judgement of the customers who made me feel like I was an animal in the zoo. I was thankful that I was still wearing a hood and that parts of my face were still covered to an extent. Strange how everyone looked like they just saw a ghost, whispering to one another in hushed, secretive tones. Was there something on my face? When I touched my face but didn’t feel anything. Was there something on my clothes? Looking down, I saw the slush still splatted on my coat. Okay, that has to be it, I reasoned with my subconscious which was still thinking the worst. Slipping my jacket off at a dirty booth, I went straight to work, cleaning and scrubbing as I ignored the glances I got every so often.

The hours of my shift all blurred together and before I knew it, it was 12:00 AM and my mom was on her way to pick me up. Always worrying that something was going to happen to me, especially with everything going on in the news. I waited for her outside in the parking lot, sitting on the dirty curb. Even though it was early on a Tuesday morning, the streets were busy and filled with traffic living up to the stereotype that the city never sleeps. The multi-coloured lights and whooshing noises of the cars left me with a calm feeling as the day’s events replayed in my head over and over.

Just then a gust of cold air tickled the back of my neck, making the baby hairs stand up. Suddenly the calming noise faded out as a soft ringing filled my ears, making me turn around to examine my surroundings. The street corner was vacant and there was no one in the parking, just some abandoned cars and the soft glow of street lamps. Sighing, I turned back to my original position but I saw something moving in the corner of my eye. It was almost pitch black on my left, except for the broken street lamp flickering on and off every so often but there was something definitely there, amongst the shadows. Standing up I began to pace warily, to reason with myself that it was just my imagination but the soft clang on metal falling caught my undivided attention. Whatever fell glinted in the moonlight and my curiosity got the best of me. I walked slowly towards the object and looked around cautiously before peering down and I gaped in horror at what I saw. It was an expensive looking silver chain, with little cursive writing spelling out a name that made my palms sweat, even in the dead of winter; Amanda.

A honk coming from behind made me jump and let out a blood curling scream, but the concerned voice of my mom calmed me down a notch. She rolled down the windows of the old Chevy, apologized for scaring me and gingerly told me to get in. I looked at her concerned face before I went to pick up the necklace, surprise coloring my face when it wasn’t there.

“Ruby, come on” she called impatiently this time. Still dumbfounded I got in unable to talk for the rest of the way home. My exhaustion was getting the best of me.

We got back to the dingy apartment in no time, and I couldn’t wait to get to bed, I needed to de-stress because I think I overworked myself to the point of hallucination. My mom offered to make me some tea but I shook my head and went straight to my room, closing the door behind me. Before I turned off my lamp, I stared at the photograph by my bedside table of my mom and me, both of us with a huge smiles and our faces glowing in the sunlight.

I always looked up to my mom. She was a single parent and she should have been a mess, but she was strong and independent, everything I wanted to be. When I was little I wanted to be her so badly that I would sneak into her closet and wear one of her dresses, making a mess of all her makeup by smearing it onto my face. Even then we looked alike. She had the most beautiful red hair and blue eyes to match and everyone always said I looked exactly like her-both of us with our tall, thin frames and similar personalities. A matching set, I thought happily.

Disoriented and dizzy from my sleep, I rolled onto my stomach and opened my phone, the brightness of the screen stinging my eyes. Groaning I saw that I only had 10 minutes before school started at 8:30 so I leapt out of bed and hurried to get my things together so I could meet Jasmine at the corner before we walked to school. Jasmine and I had been best friends since kindergarten and she always helped me through my toughest times. I don’t know where I would be without her.

I went out through the fire escape instead of my front door and headed down the sidewalk filed with dozens of students, business men in crisp suits and mothers with their strollers, threatening to run me down, while dodging incoming traffic on my left and right. As I pass people by at the tops of people’s heads, everyone’s faces blended together. Now and then a couple things catch my eye, a man spilling hot coffee on himself, a dog walker accidentally letting one of the animals run free, but one figure I couldn’t keep my eyes off of was a man dressed head to toe in a black hoodie that covered his face. I constantly turned back and every so often our eyes met, as I caught him glancing at me. He started at the back of the crowd but worked his way up until he was almost a few feet away from me. Something about this man gave me a weird vibe that made my stomach churn uneasily.

I quickly walked away until I was one block away from school. I saw Jasmine across the street and waved at her excitedly wanting to tell her about how I thought I was starting to lose my mind. As I waited to cross the street, the man from earlier approached her. What? Wasn’t he just behind me a second ago? What did he want from Jasmine? She looked terribly uncomfortable, her arms crossed as if she was trying to protect herself from him. The man started yelling at her so forcefully I heard him from across the street and a scream escaped Jasmine’s lips but no one seemed to notice her, as she wildly looked around for someone to save her. That’s it, I couldn’t take it anymore. Sprinting across the street and ignoring the honks and protests from angry driver’s as they tried not to hit me. I crashed into them both, knocking them both down with all my might. Jasmine fell hard on her butt while all eyes were trained on us, even the people from the other side were staring but none of them did anything. It was like we were the art at a museum and people weren’t allowed to touch us, they just looked. Jasmine began to shake and tears threatened to slip down her face, she looked at me straight in the eyes and I saw pure terror. That man really did a number on her.

“Who was that?!” I demanded, sounding angrier and harsher than I intended.

Her lip quivered as she said the next lines “Hodge” she whispered breathily.

I offered to help her up but she quickly got up on her own and ran far from me, her bag jingling up and down from the fast movement. I was ready to face the man in the hoodie, there was no way he would risk anything in the daylight but my fists were still balled at my sides, but when I looked around he was gone. That was a smart move for him but I was worried for Jasmine’s safety as I followed behind her slowly and made my way into the building. He was gone for now, but there was something off about him and it ran deeper than this incident.

The day ticked by like the slow hands of the clock, testing my patience. I left the building and made my way back to the apartment, past alley ways and old family businesses while it began to snow again. Little white flakes touched my skin and disappeared within seconds while water trails were left behind. Today I felt like taking a short cut so I wedged my way between two apartment buildings and down a narrow path, slush, garbage and empty cardboard boxes filling up the space. Now and then smoke would blow in my face from the pipes along the wall but I stuck my hand out to caress its warmth, sighing while the cold turned my cheeks a rosy pink. I traced my hands along the bricked walls, and saw the fence with a gaping hole which I slipped through effortlessly. Now I was halfway home when I almost tripped on my boot and bent down to tie my laces. That’s when I heard a loud crash from metres away behind me. A cold sweat began to form on my forehead when I saw the man in the black hoodie caught in the fence I was in moments before. My heart nearly stopped when I came to the realization that he was following me all along. Was he in the parking lot when I spotted Amanda’s necklace? Was he the infamous kidnapper? If so, all he looked like right now was like a fish caught in a net, trying to wiggly his way free and cursing loudly. He looked up and we made eye contact, his cold beady eyes looking at me knowingly and his taut mouth smirking as if he enjoyed seeing me in complete terror. I gulped before my brain made the connection that I was in serious danger and started to move again.

My lungs and legs protested as I ran into the alley way of buildings in my neighbourhood, and struggled to look behind me while I was still running for my life. A sigh of relief escaped me when I saw no one there but it only lasted a second as the man emerged. Jasmine once referred to him as Hodge and even though I only saw a few glimpses, I began to shake because he could definitely take me if it came down to that. His body was built and he was significantly taller than me. I ran as far as I could and turned one last corner. Dead end.

‘It’s over” Hodge called menacingly, a few feet behind me.

I couldn’t believe this was the end, this was it. All I had left was bargaining,

“Please!” I cried “I have people who will miss me, my mom will notice if I’m gone and they’ll catch you! Please don’t do this!” I heard my voice crack in between.

Confusion was clear on his face but he made his way closer, each step making my throat feel tighter and tighter. I moved back into the brick walls of one of the buildings and sunk to the floor, putting my arms protectively over my face. He came so close I felt the warmth of his body hover over mine and all I could think of was Amanda. This is what she must have felt right before she was stripped away from everything. I felt something poke me in the leg just then, something sharp that dug into my jeans. It was a broken piece of pipe that must have rolled to me but it was also my ticket out of here. He managed to touch my arm and I felt like hurling right then and there but I steadied the pipe in my left hand and bashed it over this skull. He fell back with a gasp and cupped his head which was now starting to drip blood, trailing down his cheek. He rolled on the ground and moaned while I ran back from where I came from.

I made sure to be extra careful walking home and took the pocket knife that dangled from my key chain, clutching it in my palm. When I arrived home I hid went in my room and pulled the covers up around me, as if to protect me from the events of today. I checked the time every now and then, counting the minutes before my mother would come home from work at 6:00. The 30 more minutes comforted to me to some extent, but when 6:00 rolled around there was no sign of the keys jingling and my mother’s familiar humming. Anxiety welled up and my mind went on overdrive, the cogs in the machine working overtime. I felt numb as another hour passed and then another 30 minutes. Where was she? The worst had definitely come.

Nearing about 8:00, I had surely called my mother about 18 times in the last hour but to no avail. I called for the 19th time but this time I heard continuous buzzing noises coming from the bedroom. With the pocket knife still in my hand, I felt my body go cold. Heart racing in my chest, I lifted my frozen legs one by one and tried not to creak the floorboards as I exited my room. Sliding my feet along the hardwood floor, I followed the buzzing to my mom’s bedroom door which was open wide. I struggled against every fibre of my being that told me to run for the hills and mentally prepared myself for what was to come. Was my mom home and I didn’t hear her? Maybe she left her phone, but why did I only hear it now?

The window sill was open slightly and the curtains blew out, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. The closet mirror on the left showed that a figure was sat down in the middle of the mattress, head down, clutching the phone in their right hand. My worst fears were realized and my brain struggled to comprehend how he managed to get in the house. I had enough of this, this time I charged at him with all my might, stabbing viciously at Hodge and not sparing any mercy as he fell limply. This wasn’t just for me this time, it was for Jasmine, it was for my mom and it was for Amanda. He was still withering restlessly on the bed so I thrusted the blade further and further until I didn’t feel anymore movement. Turning on the side lamp in the corner, all I saw in the next few seconds made me cry out, all the blood draining from my face. Lying there on the bed, a fresh corpse of my own doing was my mother, blood seeping into her red locks and deep into the mattress. All I felt in that moment was agony for what I had done, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt, as the tie of despair threatened to pull me down forever. A sob escaped my lips and I clutched my stomach and laid on the ground.

Until I heard a chilling voice come from the doorway. One that belonged to Hodge.

“I knew you’d be here” he said in a soft tone. I heard the distinct sound of metal clashing when he reached for something in his pocket but whatever the outcome, I know I deserved it.

The only thing I had to say to him was, “Why me?” Before I completely felt numb, the blood on my hands dripping on the hard wood of the floor.

“Amanda” he said sorrowfully.

That’s when a key unlocked in my mind, the cogs turning painfully as I thought of his response. Sitting up I stared at the mirror and looked at my reflection. Blue eyes, the same as always, but when I touched my head and examined the colour the red faded into brown, greasy hair. Everything around me began to disappear. First, my mother laying on the bed, then the bed itself. Until all that was left was a brown haired girl sitting in the middle of the room, whose face looked hollow. This was the girl in the flyers. This was the girl everyone wanted but no one loved.

Amanda.

I moved closer to her cautiously, but she was staring at the mirror in a trance, and whispering something under her breath again and again.

I swiftly moved behind her and took both of her arms, pinning the behind her back and putting the cuffs on each wrist. She put up a hell of a fight, especially when she knocked me down. We’ve been looking for her for only a couple of days but it felt like months with the Captain breathing down my neck. Amanda had been wanted for quite some time when news broke out that she killed her mother, but I thought she would have been long gone by now. Instead she stuck around. She had a horrible life here I couldn’t understand why she came back, but something bothered me since our meeting in the alley way. She said her mother would be looking for her. In a way I felt sorry for the kid, all she ever wanted was to be loved.

I walked her down the stairs of her apartment and into the streets which were filled with dozens of cop cars all flashing blue and red, some ambulances and even a fire truck. I led Amanda to one of the ambulances, even though she only appeared to have dried blood on her blouse.

“Hodge” Diaz, my partner, called. “You actually did it, I have to say I was starting to doubt you.”

“I can’t blame you, but I followed a source that saw her at a diner, it’s nice to actually see our wanted flyers working its magic. Anyway, a few students saw her arguing with one of the known mean girls, Jasmine Vasquez, outside of her high school so I followed her. Get this, she actually went back to the scene of the crime. I think she felt guilty.”

“The nut bag that killed her mother just a few days ago. Yeah she seems plenty remorseful” she remarked mockingly.

“I’m serious. It’s the strangest thing, she said something so quietly but I could’ve sworn I heard her properly.”

“Well…spit it out. Why’d she say?”

“Her mother’s name”, I took a deep breath before continuing, “Ruby.”

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