Ruby Red

VIII

I stand before my apartment door, squeezing my hands into fists. Ken sounded so serious when he told me not to come here, but looking at my untouched surroundings, I suddenly doubt his words. Yet, I can't shake the nervousness in my stomach.

I crouch in front of my doormat and carefully lift it up. My keys were in my bag on the night of the robbery, but a smart girl always hides a spare key. When I see the identical silver object, I smile. I carefully pick it off the floor and get up. With a shaky hand, I push the key into the lock. Moment of truth. I slowly twist the key and stay behind the door as I push it open slowly. Nothing changed. I finally step inside and let out a relieved sigh. This apartment might be shitty, but it's my shitty apartment. I close the door behind me and twirl around happily.

I walk into the kitchen and drop the plastic bag on my small dinner table. "My love." I say to my fridge, embracing it as if it were a person. "I have returned."

I pull the hairband out of my hair, freeing my ponytail. Feels good to be back. I put the last spoonful of cereal in my mouth and place the empty bowl in the sink. Late night cereal is the best cereal. I walk out of the kitchen, into my small living room. Priorities are still important. I need to block my credit cards and report the theft before I do anything else. And since I don't have a phone anymore, I'll have to do it online. I reach out to grab my laptop from underneath the coffee table, when an unexpected sound catches my attention. The hairs on my arms all stand up at once. Is that.... my ringtone? The familiar tune repeats itself over and over again. It's coming from my bedroom. My heart thumps in my chest as I slowly get up and make my way into the kitchen. I quietly open one of the drawers and take out my biggest chef's knife. With my hands clenched around it tightly, I slowly walk towards my bedroom.

I kick the door with my foot and it creaks open, leaving me frozen on the spot. My bag is by the window. My stolen bag. It's right there. This can't be right. Is this a trap? How can it be a trap if I'm in my own home? I hesitate, but finally step forward. The knife feels slippery in my sweaty palms, but I concentrate on not dropping it. The ringtone finally stops when I approach it. I hover over my bag slowly to see what's inside, when an unexpected force pulls me back into a chokehold.

The knife slips out of my hands as I gasp for air, trying everything I can to get the strong arm off me. I'm being dragged away from my window with great force as I desperately try to breathe. "Stop.... Plea-" I choke, pulling the arm. Is this it? Am I going to die in my own apartment? I'm running out of options. Tears form in my eyes as patches of black cloud my vision. I need to act now. I move my chin downward, and with all the force I have left in my slowly weakening body, I dig my teeth into the arm. A voice behind me yells in pain, instantly letting go of me. I fall onto my knees and gasp for air. The knife. Breathing heavily, I crawl towards the knife. The man behind me mumbles a few swearwords to himself. I reach out quickly to grab the knife, but just as I grasp for it, I'm being dragged back by my feet. "Stop!" I cry as the man turns me onto my back roughly. He drops himself on top of me and pushes a smaller knife against my throat. A tear rolls down my temple.

A rush of fear floods over me as I identify the mans face in the dark. It's the biker who came to the shop a few days ago. I let out a quiet sob as he leans in and puts more pressure on the knife against my throat. "Where is it?" He asks, a chilling tone in his voice. I have no idea what he's talking about. When I don't reply, he repeats the question, but this time louder. "Where. Is. IT?" Tears well up in my eyes as I beg. "I don't know... what you mean... Please let me go." He grits his teeth and pushes the tip of the knife against my skin. "I'm giving you one last chance. Tell me where the ring is. NOW." There are hundreds of rings at the shop, which one is it? Does he mean... the ring around my finger? Why would he want it? I sob quietly, unable to move. "I... don't know... I'm sorry." He pulls the knife away and holds it up in a pre-slicing motion. He's going to kill me. "It's too late to be sorry." Adrenaline rushes through my body as I look at my fate, the one that's in this man's hands. The very sad fate that awaits. The knife moves towards me and I let out one last desperate scream.

But the scream isn't just a scream. It's Ken's name.