I remember catching that hard-skinned, sour-fleshed Granny Smith apple. Tossing it in the air as my immaculate converse sneakers slapped the fresh floorboards in our new house.
Moms going to kill me for having my shoes on in the house. Even if they're straight from the box.
Speak of the devil, walked into the dining room after me, carrying a crucifix of all things. She eyed my sneakers that apparently weren't being sneaky enough. Turning her back to me, she hung the gory crucifix to the wall behind the king's seat. Casting an eye back at me, with its dark slash of eyebrow. She always thinks I'm up to something. Like I'm picking my nose behind her back or something. She's lucky I'm not. My mouth formed into an insolent concrete pout. Clutching the apple, I crossed the room, bashing my shoulder into a wooden oak dining chair. I heard her draw breath to reprimand m, so I hurtled out of the room.
That'll teach her for uprooting me.

WARNING! Gruesome content, might disturb some readers.

Before, walking down a dark, forlorn alley with my tall, masculine boyfriend seemed like a safe enough adventure. Six or seven strides in, still seemed safe. Step nine was a doozy. The hazy shadows crisscrossed our own and even the light beer buzz muffling my mind cleared at that sight. From the unintentional squeeze to my hand, I knew I wasn't alone in that feeling. As the front men cut us off, I looked up at my boyfriend, for hope. Seven were too many, and he knew that. I actually prayed they only wanted money but the chilling ball of ice in my abdomen said otherwise. Their hoots and whistles reminded me of a foreign tribe hunting. Their eyes, touched by moonlight were bitter and hungry. My greatest fear tore through my mind. The overpowerment, punches, blood, repeated agony, defeat and being left for dead. That was the nice version. My teeth being kicked into my ripped cheek, my head smacking wetly into the pavement, blows cracking my ribs; the degrading stream of hot piss and accompanying horks of spit, tearing of the insides, furious tearing and infinite scars.
Looking up at my boyfriends face, a face that would never do those things to me. He would fight to stop them, but I could see in his eyes what would happen. They would make him watch.
They circled us like wolves. Sick and dying elk was what they saw. Their numbers gave them confidence.
The desperation clawed from my innards, out of that ball of ice and up to my lungs. My breath came shallow and harsh in the cool air. It hurt to keep quiet and I felt a scream of anguish crawl up my throat. They only laughed harder. My boyfriend did his best but they made him pay.
The desperation was liquid ice to my veins and as the window opened, I seized my chance. The one coming towards me was a fool, shoving a loaded gun down his pants. Thinking my grab was enticing, I wrapped my hand around his heavy mound of steel.
Tables turned; the wolves were sharp and their vileness was tangible in the air. Grabbing my boyfriend by the neck, they hauled him up. Quicker than my elk eyes could follow, a glittering incisor was against his throat.
What to do.
I felt so close to the light at the end of the tunnel. I worried that fear would blind that light from my eyes. Deftly unhitching the safety with my thumb, I threw some prongs into the brick wall nearest me. Puffs of brick dust made mini mushroom bombs and the wolves leapt back. Confusion crossed their eyes but their grip on the throat they held remained fixed.
A person's will is like a golden thread, surprisingly strong yet susceptible.
At that moment, mine broke.
I did what I wanted to do most, I raised the gun to my temple, pressing firmly. It was odd to see alarm in their eyes. Quite unexpected. The light at the end of the alley was closer and washed me in the best calm I've ever felt. My body relaxed within itself and I couldn't help but smile. A minute passed, frozen, as the light grew.
" I hope you like dead meat."
They must have seen my finger lay itself upon the trigger because bodies hurtled towards me. They took forever. My boyfriend was free and he joined them.
But the lights were too close now, the most beautiful ruby and sapphire lights. They crawled up both ends of the alley. Like a perfectly laid trap, the wolves were cornered. I drew the gun away from my temple and felt the perfect circle indented there. Arms encircled me and I was asked a lot of whys. I knew if the lights hadn't saved me, there would have been more to that circle. I couldn't help but feel a deep peace in that knowledge.

I remember when the power went off; it was a cue to fulfill my task.
Oh right, my task.
The encompassing darkness crushed my body like a bear-hug from a perverted uncle. Shuffling feet and muttering came from around me and finally a trembling voice called out reassurances.
I realized I was crouched on the ground so I stood up, bumping into a lamp. Useless lamp. Striking forward, clawed hands struck at my eyes. No, not there. Back to my task.
Moving like a shark in brine, I swept slowly, back and forth through the darkness. Using people's voices as radars, spots to avoid. My slow progress was worth the effort; the voices were now looking for me. I would succeed before they found me. Giant blood-sucking bugs dove for me as I reached the entrance. A last minute crouch saved my neck and I crawled the rest of the way to my prize. Wrapping my arms carefully around it I made my way back to the entry, now the exit. I made it. I could hear the voices again, wondering where I was. One of them seemed to know, but they were too late.
Suddenly the lights flickered and came on.
There I stood, in my chinos and argyle sweater, between the living room and the bedroom, teddy bear clutched to my heart. I faced our entire regime of dinner party guests. Wide eyes and stifled laughter faced me as well as a pitying and exasperated wife.
"As I was trying to explain, my husband is afraid of the dark." she huffed, shaking her head.