Finally A Purpose

(Trigger warning: physical violence)

Parker stared at her bedroom, disgusted.

A makeshift art studio sat in the back left corner, consisting of sketch paper, pencils, markers, pens, and an overflowing trash can full of disappointing sketches.

Various musical instruments sat against the back wall next to the studio, ranging from a flute to a trombone, and it had been weeks since any of them had been played. She cringed at the thought of playing them again, the off-key notes screaming in her ears.

To her right, a yoga mat lay on the floor. That was something she wasn’t good at either. She just couldn’t find the patience to sit there and just freeze like a statue for what seemed like hours on end.

There was more, but she didn’t want to look anymore. Looking at it just made the feeling worse. The feeling deep down that she knew she didn’t have any talent, even though she tried and tried. She asked her friends what to do, her family members, everyone she knew. At the library, she searched and searched through countless books for hobbies that she could try. She scavenged the internet for answers, and when that didn’t work, she just tried to pick up old hobbies over again.

Nothing worked. Nothing stuck. Everything she tried was useless. She was useless.

She needed to clear her head.

Parker ran out of the house as quickly as she could; she ran fast. She ran hard. She ran until she couldn’t run anymore.

Feeling defeated by her own self, Parker fell to the ground, heaving breaths in and out. She didn’t want to shed a tear, because that would make her feel even weaker. Instead, she looked up and around to see where she had taken herself.

It was dark. Too dark. When she was in the house, she knew it was only afternoon. Had she been running that long? It was hard to tell.

From what she could see, she was sitting in a large, circular, upside down dome. Around the edges of the dome were railings and ramps. She scanned her mind for places she knew with these features and concluded that she had run to the abandoned skate park.

She knew how to get home from here, but it was too dark to be able to navigate her surroundings. She needed something to light her way.

Her hands fumbled around in her pockets for something. Anything. But there was nothing. She didn’t even have her phone with her. She mentally cursed herself, getting ready to find her way in the dark.

Arms outstretched, she crawled on her knees up the side of the dome until she reached the rim. Then, she climbed across the narrow rim like it was a tightrope. Maybe I should join the circus, she thought sarcastically. That’s a hobby I should add to my list, only to be crossed off in a matter of weeks.

As she continued to feel for the concrete below her, she heard something in the unknown darkness behind her. Looking back was no use, since she wasn’t able to see what had made the noise. She decided to just lightly kick the air behind her in case there actually was something. Her foot hit nothing. Twice.

She should have felt safe, but she didn’t. She stopped, listening for the noise again.

After a minute or two, she heard it.

Footsteps on the concrete below her. And they weren’t hers.

She scrambled to her feet, tripping once and almost falling back into the dome.

“Who’s there?” She yelled, trying to sound less pathetic.

No response. She almost got back down into crawl position, but then she heard footsteps again. This time, they were closer.

“Who’s there?” She said again, this time sounding more confident.

The confidence disappeared when she felt a sort of sensation on the back of her neck.

Someone – or something – was breathing on her.

She felt the urge to hit and kick behind her blindly, but it was overcome by the urge to stand perfectly still. She knew there was a chance she could get out of this without pain.

A few seconds of silence passed, and then she felt a hand on her shoulder. A big, muscular, strong, tightly gripping hand. She tensed.

“Hello,” a deep, male voice rasped, making Parker’s shoulders shake. “Tell me, girl, how you came to be out here all alone at this time of night.”

“Well,” she squeaked, “I’m lost and I need to find my friends. You see, we were playing, um, hide and seek, and I guess I hid too well.” It was a petty lie, but at least it might get her out of this.

The raspy voice laughed.

“Silly girl. I know a lie when I hear one. Why are you really out here?”

I don’t know, she wanted to say.

Instead, she uttered the words “eat shit” under her breath.

“What did you say?” He said, his voice becoming more and more angry.

“You heard what I said,” she responded, becoming more assertive. “If you’re going to kill me or kidnap me or whatever, you may as well get on with it. Skip all of this stalling and get to the point. I hate small talk. Just do what you need to do.”

He was speechless. Parker thought she was off the hook, but then she heard two small, consecutive clicks. She had heard that noise before. But she just couldn’t place it.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with, little missy,” the voice said in a low, quiet, serious tone. “I’m going to give you one more chance.” The clicks happened again, this time in reverse order. Now she remembered.

It was the flipping of a switchblade.

It happened again.

“Now, I’m gonna put this away,” he said, “and we’ll try this again.”

She didn’t believe him, but she didn’t have a choice. He was holding the blade up to her throat right now. She felt the cold, gentle caress of the metal across her neck.

“Why are you really out here?” He whispered again.

She didn’t know what to say. Her mind went blank.

The metal on her neck came closer.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” he said. “Why are you really out here?”

Parker started to speak to distract the man from what she was about to do.

“Well, I was out with my boyfriend.” That was a lie. She didn’t have a boyfriend.

“Try again,” she heard the voice say as the metal pressed harder on her neck.

He was right. She couldn’t lie, or he would kill her.

After a few seconds of hard thinking, she began to tell the truth.

“I was in my house,” she said. Her hand began to rise as slowly and quietly as possible.

“But at some point, I just ran. I didn’t stop until I was too tired to continue.” Her fingers grasped around the blade, savoring the sharp sting of its cold metal.

“Once I realized where I ended up, I began to regret my decisions.” As she continued to hold on to the knife, she felt the man’s grip release bit by bit. Her plan was working. But something else was happening too. She felt something she had never felt before. But she couldn’t dwell on that now.

“Then, I started to find my way around this place, trying to get home. But I ran into you.” By the time she had stopped talking, the switchblade was hers.

“And now,” she said, her heart pounding inside her chest, “it looks like you’ve made a mistake.”

Before he could realize what had happened, she swung the blade outward and slammed it behind her, feeling it sink deeply into flesh, drawing a large amount of blood. She heard a short yelp of pain, and felt something close tightly around her throat.

He was trying to choke her.

As the breath began to drain from her body, she brought the knife down again, drawing another abrupt scream. The grip on her neck slightly loosened, and she took a deep gulp of air while she could.

She felt the blood spill onto her hands, and the knife almost slipped from her clutch, but she tightened her grasp before it could fall. Again and again she stabbed him, hearing spurting grunts of pain each time she made impact.

Something was different. She didn’t feel empty anymore, like when she was staring at her bedroom. For the first time, she felt truly… alive.

Her heart was ticking and pulsing so hard and loud in her chest, she thought it was going to jump right out of her body.

The heartbeat didn’t stop her from finishing him off. Even after the shrieks stopped, even though she knew he was done, she kept slashing. It filled her with purpose.

She realized soon enough that the thrill wasn’t as great once he was already dead. Feeling empty again, she stood there silent, her hands and arms coated in blood and gore.

“I can see clearly now,” she whispered in the darkness.

Under the cover of night, Parker stumbled hazily through the skate park, searching hungrily for her next victim.