Cobblestone Symphony

Sensitive Content: Violence, Physical Abuse, Stalking

The cobblestone streets rattled in a quiet symphony under her feet, heels gently clicking with her footsteps. Moonlight lit the roads with a pale glow, the occasional street puddle reflecting the great lunar orb so few bothered to even look up at. It was a well lit night, and yet things still clung to the shadows, trailing in silent undertones behind the symphony.

She rounded the corner to find the lively watering hole she frequented in her younger days already bustling, warm glows emitted from the doors and warmer laughter floated on the breeze. She smiled as she descended the steps to her underground refuge where she used to feel warm and safe.

Little had changed, from the decor and staff to the calls of welcome greeting her the moment she walked in. She returned them in kind. Embraced physically and emotionally, she sat down at the bar with her dear old friends. They were happy to see her doing well and back in town. They were happier still when they heard she was here to stay. Everyone ran through the motions, questioning why she was back, about where she was now and what she was doing. They even asked about him, and for once she found herself not troubled at all to hear his name.

Still, she danced around the subject. She didn’t care to talk about such things, and to her thanks they didn’t dive deeper. The night pushed on in quiet festivities, compatriots sharing a reunion’s rejoice while drinks and laughter flowed. She smiled more in these moments than she had in a long time. It was one of the better nights, one she was happy to let go on.

It was only ten before she finished and bid farewell to her compatriots, who complained and implored her for a drink other than the one she’d nursed all night. She politely declined their kind offers of more drinks and escorts home. She was ready for her bed and wanted the night air to herself. She desired to feel stronger than her worries and her fears, and since tonight she felt safer than she had in a long time she decided to prove her hopes to be true.

At first her feelings kept, with her stroll through her old stomping grounds bringing nostalgic beauty to the senses. The air was cool and fragrant with sea salt. Looking over the bluff, the ocean waves rolled in pale white foam. The white adobe of the buildings below shined in the night as the moonlight bounced off of them. She thought it perfect to take a picture, and pulled out her phone. And that was when she saw him.

He wore dark clothes, almost invisible in the reflection of her black phone screen. But the moon was what gave him away, as even his clothes wore a faint glimmer. She froze for what seemed like a century, heart palpitating in her chest and no air seeming to come in. She knew it was him. She knew down to her bones and soul it was him. She wanted to cry and scream and run. But instead she froze, and stared, and waited. Dread creeped in as she accepted he’d found her and it wasn’t some twisted nightmare. Hope began to leak away.

Then all at once she had the strength. Maybe it came from her memories of safety moments ago or from her newfound freedom and independence or even just the passing of time. For whatever reason it may be, she found herself beginning to act. She unlocked her phone and took her picture of the countryside, forcing a smile on her face. She stared at the surroundings for a moment to hide her thoughts of what to do. Her first instinct was to return to the bar, but he was already behind her on the path back. She could scream, but she doubted anyone would help fast enough. She could run, rip the heels from her feet and just put everything into flying down the hill. Not yet, she thought. That would come later. So with great hesitancy she began to walk back home.

Now hyper aware, she could feel him following her. His shadow mixed with those of the buildings and the streets. His footsteps made no noise, though she felt she could feel the vibrations within the cobblestones. Her heels no longer were a symphony. She felt it more to a church bell chiming ever closer to the end. Her breathing, much as she tried to control it, elevated. Her blood pounded in her ears, every footstep a nightmare as she desperately, desperately sought refuge with her eyes. They darted around the nighttime scenery, seeking a safe spot that she might pounce toward. And yet she found none.

She was minutes away from her home when the pace changed in his steps. She could feel his hands opening and closing like talons, his muscles coiling and his step ever so slightly increasing. She couldn’t say how, but she knew it just as she knew it was him when she first saw his figure coiled in the shadows. Just as she knew it was now time to run.

The heels were off in an instant. The first fell clattering to the wayside and the second was kicked back into the shadows to hopefully strike him. Within a microcosm of her mind she wanted to try and grab the heels, knowing they were her favorite pair. She almost laughed at how ridiculous a thought it was. She thought maybe it was the stress. She thought of these things barely at all. She was now running for her life.

Her breath was even more of a rush, the blood a deep pounding drum. She willed her legs to move even as they already tired, even as she wanted to give up. Tears already streamed down her face. Her breathing was almost a sob, and her eyes grew wide when she looked back and saw he was getting closer.

He was faster. Her only advantage became that she knew the way forward. She dipped into alleys, around corners she knew by heart since she was a little girl. She started to scream into the night before she worried it would lose her air. Nary a sound could be heard over her feet anyway. No one seemed to answer her cries aside from his pounding feet behind her. Her fear attempted to make her fail. It wanted her to stop running, telling her to keep screaming and drain more of her precious air. She refused it, however, because by some miracle she’d gotten to the grove.

It was the place she always associated with arriving at her apartment. The apple trees her neighbor grew filled both edges of the path, all the way to the cobblestone stairs that beckoned her home. She had her new life there, her new home. Her family was gone, her friends were back at the bar, and her past was now chasing her down. That apartment was her safe space, now more than ever.

Her feet hit the dirt path in soft thuds, scrambling desperately on new terrain. His feet were moments behind. She could feel his entire frame behind her, ready to pounce and gaining on her so very quickly. She made it to the stairs, taking them leaps and bounds as she could feel her final push within her. She made it to the top stair before he caught her.

He grabbed her by the hair and she immediately screamed. She screamed and screamed and screamed as her head was jerked back and he grabbed her around the waist with his other arm. He pushed her against the railing as she thrashed about, trying to gain leverage on her so he could drag her away. She refused him in every way possible, fighting every inch and every step. He wasn’t used to this, having last seen her beaten and swollen. He’d never had her fight back.

He let go of her hair in order to pick her up and drag her down the stairs. She didn’t lose her chance, swinging around in his arms so she faced him. He didn’t have the beard then, and yet she knew it was him now. She knew those eyes, and how little they held. Nothing but anger and indignity. She had the urge to claw them out and so she stuck her fingers in them. Now it was his turn to scream. Every time he batted her hands away she clawed and fought and screamed and gouged and did everything she could to make him release her. He held firm until finally she sunk her teeth into his face and tore a chunk of skin away. He cried out as he let go, stumbling backwards holding his bleeding face and angry, indignant eyes. Then he lost his balance.

He crashed down the stairs, falling backwards and seeming to hit every step on his way down. Each thud was ugly, a symphony out of order that didn’t so much echo but encompass the night air. Then it was utterly, brutally quiet.

For a while she just stood at the top of the stairs looking down at him. She felt her face and body to look for bruises and pain she was used to. Then she realized they were on him instead, and the stress caught up to her as she retched over the railing. Then she truly had nothing left, and she sank onto the top stair.

She thought about calling someone, but instead she just looked at him from afar. He was broken, chest wheezing slowly up and down while the rest of him failed to move. He started to make an ugly choking sound that sounded more like a strangled sob than a breath. Then he was silent. He didn’t move again.

She felt the heaviness now that it was over. Everything was processing at once and none of it was sticking. She looked at her blood caked nails and fingers and felt sick. She looked at his form at the bottom of the stairs and she burned with hatred. She saw her faint reflection in her phone screen, hair a mess and blood on her lips, and just felt tired. Then she simply sat there, existing in all the fallout of the trauma and stress. She realized the breeze again and looked up at the night sky. She really did think the moon was so bright, watching it meet its cool blue with the warm orange of her balcony light. Far off in the distance she could hear the waves crashing against the shore with a sort of peaceful violence.

She jerked her head up the pathway as she heard someone coming. She saw the shadow of the cane her neighbor carried and breathed out a sigh of relief. He was a nice and good man, not like the one who lay at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe he would understand. She wondered who to call first. Was it the police? Was it her friends? She honestly wasn’t sure. There was a time she would’ve called him, yet that seemed like centuries ago.

Her neighbor’s eyes darted about as he processed the scene. The corpse of a man dressed like the night, her sitting atop the stairs looking every bit spent and numb. Her eyes held a look saying she wasn’t there. Before the neighbor even knew it the question had leaked from his lips.

“Sweetie, are you alright?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at such a ridiculous question.