Miss Denmark

every dad's nightmare

We split the bill and paid. I led them back to their hotel. I knew Manhattan better than they did.

"When are you coming back home?" Celia asked.

"Christmas," I replied. "I live here now." And that even though I hadn't been here for a full month yet.

"Impressive," Mette said and looked at their hotel. "We'll go change so we're ready to party."

I smiled and waved goodbye before I left.

There were always people in New York City. Always people working, tourists who didn't know the way, and people just out walking.

I walked back home. Walking alone at night in Manhattan? I was working on it, but I wasn't always ecstatic about it. And a Friday night? It was the worst night.

I turned a right at a corner and followed the sidewalk.

Groups of people were out having fun. Groups were heading home from a night out, or from a late night at the office.

"Hey!" Someone exclaimed.

I watched the road where a man stood, arms at each side, looking as if the world was against him. It made me smile that it appeared as if his day was ruined because of it. I had yet to try hailing a cap, and I had to admit I was a bit intimidated by the thought.

"Give me your bag," someone said behind me.

Ignore it. I moved on. Two steps and a hand grabbed my arm, spinning me around.

He was a bit taller than me, cold gray eyes and blond ish hair. Dirty blond.

He was staring down at me. "Your. Bag." He pronounced each word slowly and carefully.

"No." I replied.

I didn't register him hitting me before I was stumbling backwards. He got a hold of me and pulled me to him.

"Give me you fucking bag, bitch," he snarled.

"Forget it," I said. My cheekbone, cheek, face? Was sore.

He ripped the bag off my shoulder. The strap of the bag was diagonally placed across my body and he couldn't get it over my head. "Fuck!" he mumbled.

I tried to push him away. Dad was scared this would happen. I knew it.

Hands closed around my neck and my head was shaken back and forth. Air left my lungs. I gasped for it, dark dots were dancing in my vision. My back hit something hard, and the last air left my lungs.

He released me, and I slid down the wall until I was lying on the side walk.

I couldn't breathe.

He kicked me, and I was out cold.