Suture and Le Tigre

Suture woke with a start. Raising her shaking hands to her face, she saw that they were clean, their usual markings not marred by discoloration. Careful not to disturb Le Tigre, she got out of bed to examine the rest of herself. She didn't see anything abnormal about her appearance. As a matter of fact, she did not even own a dress like the one she was supposedly wearing. She resolved to shake the thought from her head and get ready for her day. As she got dressed, Le Tigre rose from the bed, posing at the door. With everything packed and earbuds in, she left her home.

A block away from her home, she was accosted. A man thought is was necessary to enforce his smile policy. Before he could grab a hold of Suture, a growl ripped through Le Tigre. The man immediately backed away, hand raised in surrender. Suture rested her hand between Le Tigre's ears, it calmed down and turned, allowing suture to continue with her day. She finally made it to the boutique, put Le Tigre away, and started her shift.

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Suture had forgotten about the dream. She was going to a club. She even bought a new dress for the night. She danced and drank. Her friends rented a VIP room so they wouldn't be disturbed. Suture got too close to strangers, and enjoyed the environment she was in.

Suture didn't know that she was gaining a captive audience. Many of them preferred not to interact. Some thought that buying her a drink would gain conversation. Some thought that talking to her friends would gain access to her time. Some thought that a physical connect was the way to get her to talk. What they didn't know was that she was not looking to make anymore connections. She purposefully dressed the way she did to feel free. She was dancing to leave all of her woes on the dance floor. Most of the men who tried understood that she was not interested. Disgruntled, they elected to leave her in peace.

There was a man who tried all three tactics. Each failure did not deter him. It only made him angry. He even offered her something to take the edge off. He had been gentler than the other men who had pawed at her and her friends. She didn't even offer him her name. I'm a nice guy, he thought, why can't she see that? So he sulked in the corner, watching Suture enjoy herself.

Suture had enough fun for the night and had plans with her friends for the next day. She was hit with a strange sense of déjà vu as she walked up to retrieve her belongings. Le Tigre was in turn, also put on edge. She walked out of the club, towards her apartment, three blocks away.

The man from the club followed behind her, determined to prove to her that she was wrong. He began calling after her. A chill ran down her spine, her dream was beginning to play out. She was a building away from her apartment, so she turned to her would be attacker.

“I don't have anything. I just want to get home.”

This enraged the man even more. Does it look like I rob women? How dare she! Suture rook his silence to mean that a crisis was avoided. She walked into her apartment building and took the stairs. She was almost to the level when she was yanked back viciously. The rust on the railing scrapped into her skin, certainly taking a layer off. She landed with a thud on a lower level. The man pulled her up to her feet and attempted to dust her off. She pushed as hars as she could, which only angered him. He put both his hands around her neck and squeezes right,slowly lifting her off of her feet. A sadistic smile grew on his face as he watched her struggle. Before she lost all consciousness, she remembered Le Tigre. Luckily her bag was still around her body. She prayed that she would find it, prayed that she would survive this. Her fingers find the cold metal she was looking for. There was a sudden pop.

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“Sarah Uchi? Sarah Uchi is your name, right? Ma'am?” The paramedic was trying to get Suture's attention. But she was in shock, replaying every decison she made that resulted into what had transpired. Suture flinched when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not your fault. No matter what you did, what you said, what you wore, this should not have happened. You did well.”

“Is he-”

“He's stable. They took him to the hospital to stitch him up and book him,” the paramedic stated. Suture nodded, not really paying attention. She has been preoccupied by Le Tigre, the gun her mother bought her before she moved away. Reality started to sink in, her dirty dress served as a backdrop to her bloodstained hands, deep scratch etched into her palm.