Back into Darkness

“Hey, gorgeous, brought me lunch, how about I return the favor with dinner?” the customer tries to charm me, his greasy hand reaching out to touch mine.

I manage a polite smile, even though his smug grin and cheesy line make my skin crawl. But tips are my lifeline, so I pull my hand away, pretending I need it to balance my tray.

“That’s kind of you, but I’ve got dinner plans with my boyfriend,” I respond, clearing his table.

I flash him another friendly smile before heading back to the kitchen, my arms full of dirty dishes and empty milkshake glasses.

Suddenly, I feel a slap on my butt. Instead of confronting the jerk who did it, I hurry away, feeling like a scared little mouse.

“Hey, Baby Belle, you alright? You look a little shaken,” Jeremy, the boss’s son, says, pulling me into his side with his arm around my shoulders.

He’s been working at this diner for seven years and plans to take over from his dad soon. It’s a good thing we get along.

I’m only five feet tall, so most people tower over me, but Jeremy’s friendly demeanor makes him less intimidating.

“It’s nothing, J,” I mumble, giving him a reassuring look before slipping out of his hold and heading into the kitchen to dump my dishes in the sink. I lean over it, gripping the sides as I try to breathe through my rising anxiety.

“Belle, sweetie, can you cover my night shift tomorrow?” a female voice asks, coming up behind me and leaning against the sink.

“Tomorrow night?” I ask, my face thoughtful as I try to rearrange my almost non-existent schedule.

“Yeah, it’s usually a slow night, and there’s only one other server. I thought maybe you could help me out? You can keep the tips, but Harry needs someone on.”

She gives me a fake pleading smile and puppy dog eyes that don’t fool me.

But I agree anyway, because I’m drowning in debt and can barely afford the rent on my shabby one-bedroom apartment.

New York is expensive, and without a high school diploma or any qualifications, my chances of landing a well-paying job are slim.

This is the best job I can get, and I’m still struggling to make ends meet.

“Sure, don’t worry about it,” I tell her, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at her insincere smile.

“Thanks, babe. I’m heading out now, see you later.” She flips her blonde hair, some of it landing in my open mouth. I spit it out when she’s not looking.

“Gross,” I mutter, fixing my own brown hair and smoothing out my apron before heading out to clean up the front.

Jeremy is closing up the diner with a few of us still inside. He sits at one of the tables, counting dollar bills from the register.

He sighs, resting his head in his hand and rubbing his face.

“You okay?” He looks up, his face brightening as he gestures for me to sit with him.

“Nowhere to be, Baby Belle?” he teases, leaning closer to me and slamming the register shut.

“The longer I stay out of my apartment, the better,” I reply with a laugh, fiddling with my fingers as I lean back in my chair.

“Why’s that?”

“The pipes make weird noises. The water pressure is terrible. My mattress is full of springs. The lights only work if you flip the switch three times. There are a lot of reasons,” I explain, laughing when I see the horrified look on his face. “Sorry. I should probably head home. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, Belle, I can walk you home if you want. You shouldn’t be walking alone at this hour,” he offers with a warm smile. “I could use some fresh air anyway. We’re having some financial issues.”

“Really? But you get so much business here,” I say, surprised. I thought the diner was doing well.

“Yeah, we do, but we have other expenses,” he says quietly, grabbing his coat from under the light blue counter and placing a hand on my lower back.

He guides me out and locks up behind us. We start walking down the sidewalk, him keeping me close to his side.

A couple of guys whistle and wink at me. I roll my eyes and move further away from their side of the sidewalk.

“You must get guys looking at you like that all the time.”

“Sometimes, I guess. But men are men,” I say, shrugging.

“Well, you do have beautiful blue eyes, but not all men are the same,” he says, stopping in front of my apartment building and looking down at me. I look down shyly, but he lifts my chin with his finger so our eyes meet. “You have a boyfriend, Baby Belle?”

“No,” I whisper.

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. It’s a soft, gentle kiss. He tries to deepen it, but I pull away, my eyes wide. I’ve had a few kisses here and there, but nothing serious. “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no. I was just... surprised, that’s all,” I stammer. His hands are still on my waist, his head tilted in confusion.

“I didn’t think it would surprise you, but I like you,” J admits, giving my waist a light squeeze. I stand there, a little stunned. I hadn’t really thought about us like that, but maybe I should have. I like him, as a friend, but maybe it could be more. I’m just so vulnerable, and I’m scared to open up and be with someone. I have trust issues, and even though J seems like a nice guy, I’m still wary. Aren’t the nice ones the ones you have to watch out for? “Belle?”

“I... I’m not sure what to say,” I admit, a little lost for words.

“Would you go on a date with me?” His eyes are hopeful as he shifts his hands from my waist to hold mine.

“Okay, sure,” I agree. His face lights up, and he plants a goofy kiss on my cheek before saying goodbye.

I watch him leave, sinking down against the side of my building, pulling my knees up to my chest. J is a good guy, maybe even boyfriend material, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

I’m twenty and I’ve never had a boyfriend. There are reasons for that, and maybe I should remember them now.

But it’s just a date. One date. But then again, he’s my boss. If things go south, it could get awkward at work.

Maybe I should have said no, but that could have made things weird too.

Maybe I should have kept my distance so he wouldn’t have the chance to ask me out, declined his offer to walk me home, or left work when everyone else did instead of staying late.

But J’s dad, the owner, pays me more than the other waitstaff for the extra hours I put in. And J and his father have done a lot for me.

I fumble with my keys, trying to unlock my front door, but it’s being stubborn as usual.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve, my creepy neighbor, greets me, leaning against his doorframe and giving me a once-over.

“Hi, Steve,” I respond politely, jamming my key into the lock again, hoping it’ll work this time. I focus on the lock, taking deep breaths, praying the door will finally give. Suddenly, I feel arms wrap around me from behind, pinning me against the door. His chest is against my back, his body pressing into mine. He takes my hand, the one with the key, and unlocks the door, using me like a puppet.

As the door swings open, he pushes me inside, following me in and kicking the door shut. His hands are on my hips as he backs me up against a wall.

The smell of smoke fills my nostrils as I squirm against him, trying to push him away.

“Please, stop.” He freezes, still holding me against the wall, looking down at me with a smirk. His hand grips my neck, pulling my head back so it hits the wall. My mouth opens in a gasp, and he takes the opportunity to force his tongue inside, pinning me against the wall with his body. I struggle against him, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps, my whimpers muffled by his mouth. He finally pulls away and leaves, but not before shooting me one last smirk and wink.

I slide down the wall, collapsing onto the floor. I hate feeling so helpless. Why am I such an easy target? I just want to be left alone, I just want to forget.

But it always seems impossible.