Highschool

THIRD PERSON

The cool evening air hit Josephine's face as she stepped out of the cinema, her two new friends, Janu and Maya, laughing beside her. The movie had been a comedy — a silly, feel-good film full of over-the-top antics and ridiculous gags. It was the kind of film that had them all in stitches, and the buzz of laughter still lingered as they made their way down the darkening street.

"I swear, I've never seen anything like it," Maya said between laughs. "That guy in the chicken suit—hilarious!" Josephine smiled, but her attention drifted. The street was unusually quiet for a Friday night. Just a few scattered people walking home or waiting at bus stops, their footsteps echoing in the cool night air.

"Yeah, I think I might have actually spilled my popcorn laughing so hard," Janu said, wiping her eyes with one hand. "Next time we need to watch something more romantic okay?" Josephine nodded absentmindedly, but a cold shiver ran down her spine. She had felt it before she saw them — the three men standing across the street, leaning casually against the brick wall of a building. At first, she tried to ignore them, but the moment they locked eyes, a chill of unease settled deep in her gut.

She kept walking, but the men didn't move. Their eyes stayed fixed on her and her friends.

"Hey, Josephine," Janu said, noticing the slight change in her demeanor. "What's wrong?" She didn't answer immediately. Her heart began to beat faster. There was something about the way those men were standing — too still, too deliberate. They weren't just passing by. They were waiting for something.

"Just keep walking," she muttered. "Let's get to the bus stop."

But even as she said it, the three men began moving toward them, crossing the street without any hesitation. There was no mistaking their intent now. They were heading straight for her group. Josephine's breath quickened, and she instinctively took a step closer to Janu and Maya, trying to shield them with her body. Her pulse was racing in her ears. This wasn't just some random encounter. She knew it. The tallest of the three men, with a scar running down the left side of his face, grinned as he approached. "Hey, pretty girls," he called out. His voice was low and smooth, but there was something menacing behind it. "We've been lookin' for you."

Josephine's heart dropped. Her mind raced for a plan, but there was no time to think. She needed to get her friends to safety — now.

"Janu, Maya, listen to me," she said quickly, her voice low and urgent. "You need to go. Right now."

"Huh?" Janu frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"No time to explain, just—go!" Josephine urged, her eyes darting to the men as they took another step forward. "Please. Go!" Maya hesitated, glancing between Josephine and the men, still unsure. But Josephine grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her gently but firmly in the direction of the bus stop. "Run," she whispered. "Get to safety. I'll be fine."

They didn't need another push. They finally took off, running in the direction Josephine had pointed. Josephine watched them go, her chest tight with worry, but there was no time to hesitate. Her eyes flicked back to the three men, who had stopped just a few feet away. The man with the scar stepped forward, his grin widening. "Good. Now it's just you and us."

Josephine backed away instinctively, her hand instinctively slipping into her bag to feel for the pepper spray she always kept there. But as she took another step back, the man suddenly held up his hand, signaling his companions to stop.

"I'm sure you're wondering what we want," the man said with an almost casual tone, as if they were discussing the weather. "It's simple, really. We've got a little message for your brothers."

Josephine's pulse thudded in her ears. Her mind raced, but there was a part of her that knew this wasn't random. These men were here for her — and it wasn't because they wanted money or anything else she could easily give up.

"They're not here for a friendly chat, are they?" she said, her voice trembling slightly. Carefully she positioned her body as Domenico had thaught her.

The man's grin faded just enough to reveal a glimpse of something darker. "You're smarter than you look. No, we're not here to make small talk." Josephine's heart hammered against her chest. She quickly tried to scan the mens, looking for something which would make it easier to identify them. Before she could react, the man with the scar smirked and nodded toward his companions. The other two men — one tall and muscular, the other short with a dark beanie — moved closer, closing the distance.

"We've been keeping an eye on you," the man with the scar said, his grin widening. "Thought we'd pay you a little visit." Fear hit Josephine hard, and she instinctively took a step back, her body tensing as she reached for the pepper spray in her bag. But before she could pull it out, the man with the scar raised a hand, signaling to his friends to stop.

"Let's make this quick," he said with a sickening calm. "We don't have time for games."

Without warning, the beanie-wearing man lunged toward Josephine, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her off her feet.

"Let go of me!" Josephine shouted, struggling in his grip.

But it was no use. His hold was like a vice, and with a swift shove, he threw her to the ground. The impact was hard, the rough pavement scraping against her skin. For a moment, everything went dark. She tried to get her bearings, her breath coming in shallow gasps, but before she could recover, she felt a heavy boot connect with her side.

The world exploded in pain as her ribs took the brunt of the kick. The air was knocked out of her lungs, and she gasped, a cry escaping her lips. But the pain didn't stop.

"If someone attacks you, be sure to cover your head and curl together like a ball. Broken bones will heal, internal bleeding might not." Carzy Carl said with a serious look on his face.

Another kick landed, this time in her stomach, forcing her to curl up instinctively, trying to shield herself.

"Think of this as a lesson," the man with the scar sneered. Josephine couldn't breathe. The pain was unbearable, her body wracked with agony. She was dizzy, her vision starting to blur. But she couldn't let herself go unconscious — not yet. She had to hold on.

And then, as if answering her silent prayer, a voice cut through the haze of pain. "Hey!"

Josephine's heart skipped a beat as she looked up, her head spinning. She barely saw the figure running toward her through her blurry vision.

"Luke!" she gasped, recognizing the voice even before the figure came into view.

Luke. He was sprinting toward them, his eyes locked on the men who had her cornered. The same Luke she'd known from school — but this time, he wasn't the goofy, carefree boy she remembered. This Luke was focused, angry, and determined.

"Get away from her!" Luke shouted, his voice filled with fury.

The men stopped for a moment, looking at him with an almost amused expression. The man with the scar sneered, clearly not intimidated.

"Really? You think you can take us on, kid?" he laughed, nodding to his companions. "This is none of your business." Luke didn't answer. Instead, he moved swiftly, his body flowing with practiced grace as he closed the distance between them. He was fast, quicker than any of the men had anticipated. In a blur of motion, he ducked under the swing of the scarred man's knife and landed a punch straight to his gut.

The man grunted, but Luke was already on the move again, sidestepping the larger man who tried to rush him. The fight was fast — blows were exchanged in quick succession, the sound of fists hitting flesh echoing through the street. Josephine's vision was still fuzzy, her ribs on fire, but she couldn't take her eyes off Luke as he moved with surprising skill. Then, in a split second, one of the men managed to land a blow — a hard punch straight to Luke's nose. The crack of bone was sickening, and blood immediately began to pour from Luke's nostrils, splattering across his lips and chin.

Luke staggered back, his hand flying up to his nose, his face twisting with pain. He wiped the blood away, but the look in his eyes only hardened. He wasn't backing down. But Josephine knew he couldn't keep this up. They were outnumbered, and Luke was already hurt. She couldn't just lie there. The pain was unbearable, but she had to do something. She tried to push herself up, but her body betrayed her. Everything ached — her ribs, her chest, her head spinning. But with her last ounce of strength, she managed to call out.

"Luke! Get out of here!" she shouted, her voice hoarse. "Please, go! They'll kill you!" Luke hesitated, his eyes flicking to her, and for a split second, Josephine saw something in his gaze — something that almost broke her heart. He was torn. But then, as if finally understanding the situation, he made a decision.

"Not without you," he said, gritting his teeth. "Stay down, Josephine." Her mind raced for a plan, anything to turn the tide. She tried to summon the training Domenico had drilled into her, but her body screamed in protest. Every breath was a struggle, and the pain in her side felt like it might never end. Yet, the urge to protect Luke—to get out of this mess—drove her forward.

The scarred man had recovered from Luke's punch and was now advancing on him, his knife gleaming ominously in the dim light of the street. The other two men closed in too, their predatory grins making Josephine sick to her stomach. "You should've stayed out of this, kid," the scarred man spat, twirling his knife menacingly. "Now, it's gonna get worse for both of you."

Josephine felt the last of her strength pooling into her hands. Her fingers found the cool, reassuring shape of the pepper spray in her bag, and with a final surge of will, she pulled it out, keeping it hidden in the palm of her hand.

"Luke, move!" she shouted as loud as she could, though it came out as a rasp. He didn't hesitate. In the split second it took for the man with the knife to lunge, Luke twisted out of the way, dodging the blade with impressive speed. But Josephine knew they needed more than just skill to escape.

"Get ready," she muttered to herself, eyes locked on the approaching men. She was no longer thinking about the pain; she was thinking about how to survive. And right now, that meant getting them out of here. Before the scarred man could make another move, Josephine sprang into action. She popped up onto her knees, using the last bit of her momentum to throw herself in front of Luke. With a practiced flick, she aimed the pepper spray directly at the scarred man's face, squeezing the trigger with every ounce of strength she had left. The spray hit its mark, catching him directly in the eyes. His confident expression melted into one of pure agony as he staggered backward, clawing at his face, blinded by the searing pain. He screamed, dropping the knife to clutch at his eyes. She didn't spare him a glance but sprayed the other two.

"Run!" Josephine gasped, her own vision swimming from the exertion. She felt a hand—Luke's—grip her arm, pulling her to her feet.

"Let's go," Luke said, his voice strained but determined. Blood still dripped from his nose, but he was alive. And that was all that mattered. The two of them didn't hesitate. They didn't need to exchange another word. Without looking back, they both bolted down the narrow alley next to the cinema, weaving through abandoned buildings they both knew well. The streetlights flickered behind them, casting long shadows, but the sounds of their footsteps echoed like a heartbeat through the silent night.

Josephine could hear the sounds of men cursing behind them, the scarred man still screaming in pain. She prayed they wouldn't be able to follow them—prayed they hadn't seen the route they were taking. Josephine guided them through the back alleyways with an urgency that matched Lukes own. She new this aera pretty well, and that gave them a small advantage. They cut through a darkened building she had used to frequent when she went to the soup kitchen It was a shortcut she had taken more times than she could count, but tonight, it felt like the only thing standing between them and danger.

Breathing heavily, they emerged into the small, almost deserted street. The distant hum of traffic could be heard in the background, the sound of normalcy just beyond reach. Josephine felt a wave of relief wash over her as she saw Luke's car parked a few yards away, its headlights casting an amber glow.

"Almost there," Luke said, glancing nervously over his shoulder. He now tugged Josephine toward the car, and she moved as quickly as her aching body would allow, her legs unsteady, but still functional. As they reached the car, Luke threw open the passenger door, pushing Josephine into the seat before jumping into the driver's side. He slammed the door shut, the engine roaring to life with a sudden burst of power.

"Lock the doors," Josephine urged, her voice still shaky from the adrenaline. Luke obeyed without question, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he accelerated down the street, the tires screeching against the asphalt. Josephine sank back into her seat, her head resting against the cool leather, trying to steady her breathing. But even as they sped away from the scene, she could still hear the pounding of her heart in her ears. The fear wasn't gone. Not yet. The thought of what those men had said to her—their message for her brothers—lingered like a weight on her chest. What had they wanted? Why had they come for her?

"Are you okay?" Luke asked, glancing over at her as he drove. His voice was softer now, tinged with concern. "I think we should drive to a hospital."

"I'm fine. Could you just drive me home?" Josephine said, though it felt like a lie. She was far from okay. Her body ached all over, and she could feel the bruises already forming beneath her skin. But she had to push past it. There was no time to rest. Not yet. "What about you?"

"Everythings perfect. Are you sure? It looked pretty bad."

The city lights flashed past them as they sped toward Josephine's home. "I am. Thank you for saving me by the way."

Josephine's eyes remained fixed on the road as the city lights blurred past them, her mind still swirling in the aftermath of the attack. The adrenaline was slowly fading, leaving behind an empty, gnawing sensation in her gut. She couldn't shake the words the men had said. "A little message for your brothers." What did that mean? And why had they targeted her?

Luke's question broke through her thoughts. "Are you sure you're okay?" His voice was soft but persistent, filled with concern. "We can still go to a hospital—"

"I'm fine," Josephine replied again, more firmly this time, though her voice cracked with the effort of convincing both him and herself. "I just need to get home. It's just some bruises... I'll be okay." Luke didn't argue, though she could see the skepticism in his eyes as he kept glancing over at her. She felt bad for worrying him—he had no idea just how deep this could go. He had helped her escape, and that was more than enough.