Trigger warning: Violence

— Amelia —

I watched Vincent drive away with Hannah in the car. My heart was going a mile a minute. When Lydia called me earlier, saying the Hannah’s crazy ex-boyfriend was trying to break into her house, I was beyond myself with worry. I gathered a few things and left my apartment as fast as I could. And I had been right to be worried. When I saw that he had hit Hannah again, I acted without thinking.

Now that the worst of the night had passed, and Vincent was taking Hannah to the hospital, I had different worries in my mind.

Hannah hadn’t known I was transgender. I should have told her. Even Janis warned me about it. So why hadn’t I? The people I’ve dated before Hannah all had known about me beforehand. I made sure they did. If someone couldn’t accept that one thing about me, it would be better for me to know it right away, before I was in too deep.

But then I got careless, and scared, and ended up exactly in the type of situation I had wanted to avoid. What if Hannah was one of those prejudiced folks? What if she never wanted to see me again?

I sighed. I had more pressing matters at hand. Hannah had been hurt by her drunk unstable ex-boyfriend who broke into her house. So maybe Vincent was right, and I was doing a silly bravery act for trying to fix everyone’s problems, but I’d be damned if I was just going to sit by and wait for the next time that Michael guy came after Hannah. I had to do something about it.

I turned around, and walked back into the building. Going up the stairs, I felt increasingly anxious. Truth be told, I didn’t really know what I was doing. I didn’t have a plan. All I wanted was to make sure Michael never got close to Hannah again.

I reached Hannah’s apartment again and the door was slightly ajar. I walked inside, feeling my heart in my throat… but the guy wasn’t there. At first, I thought he might have gone outside, but when I stopped to think about it, there was only one way in and out of that building, and he would have had to pass through me to get there. Which meant he was still around, somewhere.

I moved silently through the apartment, checking in every place I could think of. I didn’t find him in the bedroom or the kitchen. I was about to leave, disappointed that I had somehow allowed a drunk man to slip by my hands, when I was pulled back by an arm that wrapped around my body while another hand attempted to press a knife against my throat.

This wasn’t a Hollywood-style scene where the villain threatens the heroine but stops short of hurting her because he oh just so needs to deliver a speech. No. This guy was going for the kill. He was much stronger than I, and acted without hesitation. I only barely managed to hold his arm and stop him. I felt his breath on my neck, warm and smelling of alcohol.

That’s when I realized my mistake. Vincent was right, I was a fool for trying to confront this guy. Not only was he too drunk to see reason, but he was violent and dangerous. I managed to wrestle myself out of his grip, but only because he was so drunk he could barely walk on his own. Then I started to run. I dashed out of the apartment, hurried down the stairs and crossed the street, only then stopping to catch my breath.

I had been so, so close to death.

I glanced back at the apartment building. He didn’t seem to be following me. I knew Michael was a violent man, from what little Hannah had told me of him, but I would never have imagined he’d be the type to go for murder. I wondered what Hannah would think, if she knew.

I considered my next step. I had to go to the hospital and warn Hannah about this. Now that I knew what Michael was capable of, it was clear that Hannah absolutely could not return to that apartment. She’d have to stay at one of her friend’s, or at her parent’s.

But before that, I needed to go down to the precint. I was no fool, I knew it was too much wishful thinking to actually expect the cops to intervene and help us. But filing a formal complaint was the only way this situation could ever be brought before a judge, if Hannah ever decided to take the legal route. So I took a deep breath, and started walking down the street.

I had been walking for ten, maybe fifteen minutes.

I saw the headlights from behind me, but I didn’t realize what they meant until it was far too late.