I would have preferred a keying to my car, than one to my heart

The idea for this short story came to me this evening while on my way home from a long day of classes and research, and I was repulsed by the actions I do automatically out of fear of the unknown.

     I grab my keys out of my bag, and pick up my walking pace. I constantly scan my surroundings, as if someone were to pop up at any second and surprise me. My grip on my keys gets stronger as I follow the side walk around the bend where the shadows grow taller. With another glance over my shoulder, I tense up. I'm almost running at this point.
     I am aware of how ridiculous I look. It's mid-evening, and I have no where special to be. I'm simply walking to my car from across campus. My shoulders ache from my backpack, but I don't dare slow my stride.

     My keys are jutting out between my fingers now. I'm an increasingly less cool girl-version of Wolverine with every step I take. However, the container of pepper spray could not be pulled from my grip. I focus on quieting my breathing and I can feel my heart pounding. The academic buildings loom above me and I am alert to any possible danger.

     Ten antagonizing steps later, I spot a group of people. It looks to be a mixed group. They are goofing around, completely oblivious to my presence, and even less knowing of my heart skipping a few beats. Although these missed beats aren't because I'm looking at the face of the boy I have a tremendously huge crush on; I'm only enroute to my car.

     I hear some movement behind me and there are some others. I spot a solitary guy walking my way as well. While I am in the company of the groups, my nearly sprinting slows, my hands somewhat unclench from my keys, I pull my pepper spray further up into my sleeve. I don't want to draw too much attention to myself, not that anyone seems to be taking much interest in me. I try to blend into the exterior to the brick building, like the giant chameleon that I am toting Psychology books.

     Soon enough however, this assortment of people splits and continues on their own ways. I glance around, just to take notice of where I am, when I spot the guy from before heading in the same direction. I feel myself shiver, but it's not entirely from the cold.

     I begin walking faster and faster, until I know it's entirely apparent that I am running from this guy, yet I don't change my speed. I can see the parking lot from here. But I'm not safe quite yet.

     And I begin to feel really terrible. In any other circumstances, I wouldn't be bothered by anyone taking the same path as me. As much as I prefer to not have the run-down feeling, I am constantly on a college campus. I'm used to it by now.
     When I was in elementary school, I was told that a boy would be mean to you if he liked you. When I was in middle school, I was told that I would want b***s because that's what would attract boys. When I was in high school, I was told that if a boy liked me, it was my fault. And now, I am told that if I am assaulted, it will my fault because I wasn't prepared, because I was dressed to provocatively, because I was "asking for it". Because when it gets dark, men turn into predators, and I, the prey.

     I hope you can forgive me for running, and gripping my keys tighter. Maybe you just finished working in your own research lab, just like me. Maybe you would feel more obligated to yell out that a cluster of papers had toppled out from my book bag if I weren't in such a rush to create distance between us. Maybe we would have had a conversation about your key chains and I would have showed you my keys, in a non-hostile way. Maybe we could have become friends and have had long conversations about Superman vs. Batman theories, and politics, and art, and music, and how terribly we did on our mid-terms. I really would've liked to have known if we had something in common. I really would have. And it breaks my heart that I feel this way.

     But it doesn't work that way. As soon as the sun goes down, I am fearful. I don't know you, and I am fearful.

     This "necessary" thinking hurts both of us. Actually, it extends far beyond us. It overflows into all things. It feeds into the culture that says "no doesn't actually mean no" and "men can't be abused". It takes the men/women dichotomy and expands the casualties to everyone. It tells women to be fearful of men, and it tells men to hate women for rejecting them. It sends messages like, "you're not a man if you haven't had sex", or "if you're a woman that enjoys sex, you're a s**t or a w***e, and if you haven't you're a prude." All of these things create distance and violence between the sexes. I do not fear men; I fear running into the one that believes these things as gospel.

     I climb into my car and immediately lock the doors. I haphazardly throw my backpack into the passenger seat and put my key in the ignition. I peer through the windshield and see the outline of the stranger whose path met with mine only briefly. It appears he is walking in the opposite direction now. I let out a deep sigh and turn on my car.

Reviews

[Mahlo Metsys]

This is captivating. Very intelligent as well when you analyze all possibilities of a single situation that you're still aware you have no control over the outcome. Great piece of work.