Before reading this I would just like to mention that I am not female, I have been a male all my life, however as I get older I learn more and more about the terrors that women face in their day to day lives. I experienced a small example of this when a friend and I were robbed at knife point when walking back from a party. The differences between my experience and the experience of EVERY women you know are vast! I do not fear for my safety with every step I take into the outside world, yet I know some females who do because of the array of dangerous present in our horrible world.
I wrote this piece after the death of Sarah Everard and the horrendous comments that I read on Instagram about men's responses to similar cases. It greatly pains me that people do not show support for women and attempt to find some solution to the problems that cause such terror in their lives.
I hope that people look out for not only their friends and family who are women, but all women because no one deserves to feel how the protagonist in this short story feels on her short walk home in the early hours of a winter evening.
The street was dark, winter nights set in early. She’d spent the day with friends, but the joy and laughter faded away as did the light with the close of the door behind her. Now she had to face the journey home, a journey she’d made so many times and probably would have to make countless more throughout her life. It didn’t matter where she was or where she was going, the journey was the same. The first few steps up the road were the easiest; the subconscious radiant glow of safety from her friend's house in the back of her mind gave her confidence but it faded before she’d even reached the end of the road. The moon wasn’t bright, the heavy clouds of winter blocked it out and hid the stars, the only light was the beacons of amber produced by the street lights lining the road.
Crossing the first road, she reached into her bag. “18:38” her phone read, she’d only been gone three minutes. She quickly put her phone back in her bag, checked over her shoulder and gripped her keys tightly in her hands until her knuckles were white and her palms red. All would have been quiet if she wasn’t overwhelmed by the beating of her heart in her ears. Leaves were not scattered by a howling wind, the hammering of rain had stopped leaving only small puddles on the concrete slab path. The world was at peace, but out there in the dark she felt far from peaceful. Her mind raced. Any vague human shaped outline played in her mind a hundred times until she could establish what it actually was.
Walking as quickly as she could, her legs started to burn from the pace of fear. She crossed another road and rounded a bend. She knew this neighbourhood, it was a nice area full of elderly people and families. A little relieved she took a breath but did not slow down. As she walked she checked behind herself a few times, mostly subconsciously without noticing she had done so. Her pounding heart slowed slightly, her racing mind calmed a little. The intrusive thoughts of fear slowed but did not disappear, they whispered and clawed at her but with this brief respite from peaking anxiety she could control them; she did not feel safe, but she could control them.
Halfway up the road of the nice neighbourhood, she froze. A thunderclap of a car door startled her like a lost puppy in a storm, all the work she had done to calm her mind as undone in an instant and everything flooded back. It was most likely just someone arriving home after work, but it could be something else, someone who would grab her into their car? someone wishing her harm? She could not stop the thoughts from forcing their way to the front of her mind. She crossed the road “stop being silly, you’re safe, you’re safe” she repeated to herself in her head attempting to gain some sort of reassurance, but deep down she didn’t feel safe.
Heading up to the main road diverting up a small cul de sac away from the car up ahead, she fought her own mind, nothing was safe from her fear. As she walked she could not stop herself looking back to check no one was around. Her skin was getting hot, her hands clammy and weak from gripping her bag and keys so tightly. The main road was a longer route, but they’d be more cars, more people watching, more safety, at least that’s what she told herself. Traffic on the road was sparse. At first they were just flashes of colour that sped past unnoticed by her fear-plagued mind, but soon with each rush of wind she felt a rush of dread which caused her body to tense whenever she heard another car. Any one of them could snatch her. She felt small. She felt like she was never going to make it home. The world grew in her mind until it felt like any haven of safety was so distant it may as well not exist.
After about five minutes of walking up the main road she came to her turn, the main road made her less anxious than the quieter side roads, but she couldn’t walk up it any further, she’d never make it home. She took her turn and continued towards her house. The darkness was even more noticeable and despite the terror she had felt with each passing car, she now longed for their bright white lights that lit the path ahead. Now the darkness consumed everything, but the immediate vicinity of the street lights. She grabbed her phone from her bag and tried to call her friend, no answer. She called another, checking behind her again. It rang for a while, “pick up, pick up” she pleaded to the dial tone. No answer. She tried one more friend but again there was only a voicemail. She put her phone back in her bag and checked over her shoulder. She had the feeling that someone was watching her, it felt like insects of ice crawling across her skin. Every road she passed by she looked down intensely, pleading with some divine force that there would be no one around and she would be safe.
Passing the third road she saw a dark figure, shadowed by a hood walking up towards her. The heart beating in her ears had reduced on the main road and from the natural decrease experienced during prolonged peaking anxiety but now it thudded louder, harder and faster than before. She could feel the sweat under her clothes. The cold night of winter was now the burning red hotness of danger. Who was this figure, why had he turned down the road behind her, why was he walking the same pace as her. She glanced back, the figure looked across the road away from her. Why did he look away, was he looking at her? Was he following her? She rounded the corner at the top of the road, it wasn’t the way home but there was a local newsagent that was currently a closer safe point.
She crossed the road and headed up the road to where the shop was. She checked back, the figure followed. Her mind raced, a million possible solutions and a million more fears. His and her footsteps echoed in her head as she tried to judge the distance between them. She made it to the newsagents and went inside.
As she opened the door and stepped inside she heard the figure that had been following her speak on their phone. “Yeah I’m round the corner. I’m just passing the shop now.” Stood in the doorway of the shop, she had to go in now, she already felt stupid. The man at the counter was always pleasant but she didn’t need to buy anything. Chewing gum. Back outside.
She headed back down the road she had just walked up to go to the shop she didn’t need to go to. As soon as she rounded the first corner she began to run. She ran as fast as she could, her legs burned, her eyes watered, her chest pounded, her throat was dry and throbbed. With each step the world passed her by in a blur; half reality and half a terrible nightmare from which she wanted to wake. She didn’t stop until she was home. She unlocked the door as quickly as she could, she shut the door behind her. Home. Safe. But she would have to leave again at some point and if night set in before her return, no matter how early, the walk would be filled with the same daily terrors.
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Thanks to Jennie for the amazing photographs for this piece
Give her a follow at https://www.instagram.com/jenniebrown_photography/
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