Am mad at myself for leaving the office so late at night, knowing fully well the dangers and high risks that could happen to a single woman walking around at night. Well, its not like I planned it, I say to myself, such perfect timing that the stupid car just had to break down tonight of all nights. Its just a few blocks to the car park, I will just walk down and hail a cab to take me home, what's the worst that could happen? Am halfway down the block from the office when I start having this tickling feeling at the back of my neck that makes me feel like someone is watching me or following me. Am suddenly feeling cold as goosebumps floods my skin making my hairs stand alert and my ears to perk up. Call me paranoid but I know the feeling too well having dealt with a psycho ex-boyfriend that was a stalker and a pest. Why would someone be following me? I laugh nervously as I answer myself, why won't they. Am carrying a very expensive Louis Vuitton bag, that has an IPhone 12 inside plus a large amount of cash, nice clothes, night shades and sneakers to match. I am definitely screaming rich right now. I hasten my steps as the feeling grows thicker and I can hear rapid footsteps pick up their pace and hurry to catch up with me. That does it for me as fear feeds my veins with adrenaline and I start sprinting. I duck into the next corner hoping to lose whoever it is that's following me since the darkness of the corner shield me. I stay still, breathing erratically but slowly. I didn't hear anymore footsteps and the feeling at the back of my neck is just lingering, so I think am safe now and can finally go home. I straighten up, ready to leave and I am screaming as two sturdy hands yank me up and hits me hard across the face, I lose focus and see stars, like literally. Oh God save me!! Oh God save me!! am chanting in my head as I taste the salty feeling of blood in my mouth as he hits me a second time making my knees buckle and my teeth rattle as my head spins. "Let go of the bag, you stupid bitch" he says and I manage to look down weakly to see that I am clutching my bag in a death grip like my life depended on it. No Wonder he hit me again. He lifts his hands the third time to strike and I mange to duck it, my boxing classes finally kicking in and he hits his fist on the brick wall behind me and yelps out in pain, releasing the bag at the same time. I waste no time in sending my knees up to connect with his balls. He screams out in surprise and drops to his knees placing both hands between his legs at the same time I send my knees up again to his jaws. I think I cracked something in his mouth but I am not waiting to play doctor as I sprint out of the corner like hounds from hell were hot on my heels. Thank goodness and the stars I came out okay, I will never ditch boxing lessons and never ever go home late again. My head hurts and my face feels swollen and bruised but am glad I came out alive. Writer: Miss J

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