Outside is less noisy, no one notices me on the gravel path. Maria’s car is gone. My ride home is gone and I am not with my phone. Emotions clash inside me, tears fight to come out but I push them back.
I don’t need to cry, I need to find a way to get home in one piece. With that in mind, I start walking.
The distance seems to increase the further I walk, my only company is the street lights lining the walkway. The itch worsens, I shiver and sniff as the cold air lashes at me.
This night was a mistake.
The powerful sound of an engine cuts through the air, a motorbike rolls to a stop beside me but I continue walking.
“Why you out here looking like a corpse?” Very funny. I force one foot in front of the other, urging my body to cooperate. I am alone on this street, anything can happen. My heart jumps to my throat as the rider continues at my pace. I refuse to look at him, my eyes focus on the pavement, on getting the itch under control. “Juliet, it’s me. Are you okay?”