The Shattered Genesis (Eternity) Read Free Page A

chasing me, which in my mind, he was.
                  But just as that expression took a lap around my mind, I became aware of the fact that no one was chasi ng me in reality. I stopped running, allowing myself to stand panting on the sidewalk, leaned up against the brick wall of a closed health food store and ruing the day I started smoking as it limited my already hindered capacity for prolonged physical acti vity. I looked around, back up the street towards the music blaring out of the open door of the bar I had just left. I saw no one.
                  “Okay...” I muttered to myself, realizing that I was trembling even more intensely. I continued to walk quickly despite the tightness in my chest that made my heart feel as though it was attempting to beat through cellophane. If there were people around, I like to think that I would have asked for help but out of fear of looking like a crazed albeit well-dressed drunk on the st reet, I probably would have just barreled on past them as though I was just in a big hurry. In the city, no one would think anything of a twenty-two year old speed walking down the sidewalk. No one would ask questions.
                  I was alone and looking over my shou lder almost against my will, expecting to see those three men following me. I tried to stop myself from picturing their motives but unfortunately, my brain stirred up horrendous scenarios that played inside my head like cheap, exploitative B-movies at a 19 70's grind-house.
                  I do apologize for all the similes. But sometimes these figures of speech are the only way to truly convey an emotion. They are the last ditch effort of those who cannot make sense of things, even years later.
                  I reached around in my bag , looking for my cellphone as I continued to power-walk home. I avoided shrieking in frustration when I found that it was missing. What else had that man taken from my bag? I didn't have the time to stop and check. I just had to get inside. I just had to l ock myself in the safe confines of my apartment, where I would immediately begin trying to forget the awful turn of events my first night out in months had taken.
                  I had only seen civilian cars pass by for the duration of my trek. A cab hadn't passed since the one that nearly left me pancake-flat on the asphalt. If I saw one and was able to get inside, I contemplated throwing my arms around the driver and thanking him for being in the right place at the right time. I imagined the relief that would flow thro ugh me as I crawled into the warm cab and began to put as much distance between me and that bar as possible. I would even kiss the driver's cheek just to show him how thankful I was for his arrival and rescue. I'm sure he would have already experienced str anger things than that in his career.
                  But no cab rolled down the street and I was left walking alone. No one passed by me, either. I looked at my watch and rolled my eyes; it was almost two A.M. and everything was beginning to wind down in our fair city. Leave it to me to lose track of time. But then, how could I ever have imagined that something so terrible would happen? Several years earlier, I had stayed out until well past two in the morning many times and never once encountered a group of demented sad ists.
                  When I finally came around the corner and my building came into view, I could have cried. I would have, if I had been physically able to do so. My reprieve was short-lived, however; with another strong dose of supreme horror, I realized that the sam e two jocks were lurking outside my building, their athletically hefty forms sitting prone on the bench just across the street.
                  I mumbled a rare expletive and ducked into the alleyway beside the building that was four over from mine. After I had cussed on ce, a whole