Adrienne's Walk

It was a cold night, not unusual for that time of year. The bright reds and oranges of fall had long disappeared, leaving behind the dark skeletons that were such a contrast to the dusky sky.

Adrienne was walking home from work after the day from hell. She was an attractive woman in her early thirties. Her long chestnut colored hair was pulled back in a stylish French chignon, and all of her accessories coordinated perfectly with the navy blue skirt suit she was wearing. As her heels clicked on the pavement her green eyes could be seen flashing and her lips moving rapidly, though without much sound coming out. Every now and then you could hear her mutter something like “They never freaking appreciate me...they’ll miss me some day…mark my words they will…” and “Stupid bastards…they’d really be up shit creek it weren’t for me…”

She was a secretary for Wilkes, Anderson and Associates, an advertising agency that specialized in magazines. Well, secretary was the proper term. In all actuality it should have been "paid slave”- but who was arguing?

Today had been especially difficult as Rich, her boss, had been in an unusually wretched mood. “Maybe he has PMS…” Adrienne had muttered to herself, snickering quietly. He had decided that she was to clean the storage room at the end of the hall, where months and possibly years worth of boxes of old magazine issues had accumulated. Not too big of a deal, except for the fact that she was to do it alone. Eight frustrating hours later she was finally on her way home. Her normally brisk walk was tempered a bit now, courtesy of lifting heavy boxes all day. She held back a groan when her lower back twinged painfully. Tempted by the thought of taking her heels off and walking the short distance home, it suddenly occurred to her that there were noises consistently following her.

Only slightly apprehensive she glanced behind her. Despite the street being dark, there was still light coming from the street lamps, although sparsely. Upon seeing nothing, she shrugged and kept walking. She was only a few blocks or so away from home now, and the anticipation of a long rest in a comfy recliner was beckoning to her invitingly.

After another couple blocks of walking she began to get annoyed. That sound of footsteps behind her had begun to get louder, and yet when she turned her head to catch who it was, there was nothing. She wasn’t scared at all. It was probably just some punk kids out to give her a rough time. “We’ll just see about that,” she thought. “You haven’t met the likes of Adrienne Roberts yet, kiddies…” Subtly she maneuvered the key ring in her hand so that the mace was in position and ready to go. The footsteps were even closer now, and somewhat heavier sounding.

As she rounded the corner she quickly turned and stopped, ready to confront whoever it was that came around behind her with a friendly spritz of mace to the eyes. She tensed as she saw a tall shadow in the street light, and she placed her finger on the trigger of the can…ready and waiting. She was just pushing down when a hand came from behind her, covering her mouth and slamming her against the building- flipping her around in the process. Her last words before the knife sliced her neck from ear to ear were muffled, but they had been heard. “Why?" she had gasped, and he smiled as her rapidly cooling body hit the pavement.

“You forgot a box,” he said, whistling as he ducked into an alley and walked away.