A Desperate Love

A Desperate Love By J.D. Walker I sat on the dirty, sticky floor of the deserted train station platform, body slumped against the cool, graffiti-covered wall, and heedless of my second-hand suit as two o’clock loomed on a Sunday morning. How much more f****d could my life become? Maybe I shouldn’t ask that question, though, with my recent track record, especially today. My boyfriend of two years broke up with me on f*******:, of all places, just because. He was hotter than hell, but that came with jerk-dom. Then the asshole of all bosses stole my creative ideas for an upcoming million-dollar marketing campaign, and when I had confronted him an hour ago, because we all worked ridiculous hours, seven days a week, he had called me a liar and put me on work probation. So, I quit. And now… The last train had just left, along with the fleeting dregs of my dignity, ten minutes ago as I’d run down the steps, then slipped and landed on my butt after bouncing a foot or two, all while everyone else rushed by in desperation, pushing and shoving. I was sore and knew I would have an ugly bruise on my ass by morning, but the discomfort paled in comparison to having to walk four miles to my dingy apartment. In black patent leather dress shoes that mercilessly squished my toes. Why not take a ride-sharing service? Because of the bad experiences I’d had every single time, including theft, unhinged carpool passengers, and drivers who couldn’t find their way around a city, even with GPS yelling “turn f*****g left” in their ears. Enough was enough. I’d rather crawl than endure that ever again. It took me another ten minutes, along with the footsteps of someone coming down the stairs—likely transit police—to finally get off my duff and make my presence known before they cited me for something. It would be the perfect end to a miserable week, and the start of another. I was let out of the station under the suspicious eyes of the tired and irritated-looking personnel, and I slowly made my way across the street to start the long trek home. After an hour and fifteen minutes, I was closing in on my apartment building across the street when someone grabbed me from behind, forced me against his hard body, wrapped a bulky arm around my neck, and placed a gun to the side of my head. Something inside me snapped.