I am not throwing bitch fit. This isn't a tantrum. I am right. I am fucking right. It's all his fault but I am the one that has to bare all of the blame. He is such an asshole but no one else seems to notice. I am the one that gets called a bitch. Seriously? I don't think so. And all of my friends took his side. They are supposed to be my friends but they sided with him, the monster that broke my heart. What the fuck? Fuck it. I'll find new friends, better friends, friends that will actually be there when I need them. Instead of the drunken tarts I hang around with. They all owe me money and steal my clothes anyway. Fuck 'em. I don't need them. I don't need anyone.

I gave a tired sigh and bit my bottom lip as I felt tears of frustration fighting to roll down my cheeks. If I allowed myself to cry, I wouldn't stop. It would mess up my makeup and then I really would look pathetic when the Safe Ride rolled in and rescued me from myself. This is a new low for me. I had never been kicked out of a bar before in my life. I had been stupid. I should have known better but I had been blinded by fury.

My girls and I did some pregaming then we headed down to our usual prowling ground, Slammers. It was a pretty sleazy bar. There were stripper poles for 'special events'. Usually at least one drunk girl climbed them before the night was through. There were also a couple of pool tables in the corner. I bought a couple of beers and we hung out over at our usual table over by one of the pool tables. It was a pretty good night till Captain Douche Bag came waltzing in.

I didn't even notice him at first but I felt eyes on me and made eye contact as he stood at the bar ordering a drink. It was the first time I had seen him since we had broken up. It had been almost four months since I had seen his face. His hair was a lot shorter and he had shaved his facial hair, which immediately pissed me off. The whole year we had been dating he refused to shave his facial hair off. I had to buy foundation because his stubble had caused my skin to break out whenever we made out. Still he refused to shave it but now that we were apart he had shaved it off.

At first I didn't even notice the skank he was with. She was wearing a tight fitting black dress that perfectly showed off every flawless curve in her body. Her hair was obviously fake bleach extensions. I have seen Barbie dolls with more realistic looking hair. She also had one of those stupid feather extensions hanging off her head. She put her hand on my ex's arm as she wobbled away from the bar on her red four inch fuck-me heels. What was she even doing with him? She was a 10. My ex was about a 6. Maybe a 7 now that he had shaved off the facial hair. No, he's about a 5 now. The facial hair had looked really good. He had a bit of a butt chin and the stubble had covered that up a bit.

What happened next was a blur. I'm not a hundred percent sure what went down. I had consumed maybe five beers at this point plus several shots. There was a harsh exchanging of words. I may or may not have dumped a beer down Skankzilla's dress and slapped my ex across the face when he came to her rescue. So… yeah. The bouncers threw me out. My friends refused to go with me and stayed in the bar. The bouncer at least called me a Safe Ride which is the free taxi system that my campus uses to make sure people walking alone don't get mugged or attacked or whatever.

It was taking too long though. I was starting to get bored and antsy. I could be back in my apartment all snug in my bed by now. Fuck this. I'll just walk back.

Yes, I know that this is an incredibly stupid idea. Young women shouldn't be walking across campus in the dark especially when they are still kind of intoxicated. I am currently the poster child for abduction. Whatever. If anyone touches me I will claw out their fucking eyes. I was in a take-no-prisoners kind of mood. I kind of wanted to fuck someone up.

I took a deep breath as I moved away from the bar and cut across the parking lot. I skidded to a stop as I nearly was hit by red car. A passenger in the back seat leaned out the open window and made some sort of growling noise at me as the car zoomed by. Drunken freaks. That almost made me want to go back to the bar but I was already in the middle of the parking lot so I decided to continue on my way.

I made my way over to the park. I could stay on the road where it was mostly lit but it would take twice as long than if I went down the forested park path. The forest wasn't well lit but it was lit enough so that I wouldn't be wandering around blind in the dark. Sometimes when I am on my off and on health kick I would take my puppy, Piranha for a run around the park. It is basically a big oval that revolves around a sad looking pond which for some reason is considered a lake because it goes by the name, Round Lake. I think it might be named ironically because I don't think it's big enough to be considered a lake and it's not round. I don't know. I'm not a geologist. The path will also take you to the Frisbee golf course if you want to go all the way around. I just need to follow the path along one of the curves. It would take me fifteen minutes tops.

I'm a big fan of horror movies so I should have known better then to pull this shit. If this was a movie I would probably be screaming at the bitch to just wait for her taxi or at least stay on the main road. I am basically setting by self-up to be killed by an axe murderer. That's very unlikely though. Ax murders aren't as common as the TV tries to make them seem. It still happens though. Okay, I need to stop trying to freak myself out.

I wish I had worn a jacket. Now that my alcohol buzz was slowing down I was freezing my ass off. At least I looked hot. I don't always dress up when I go to the bar. The glamour of drinking in a bar kind of wears off after the first couple of times you go and pay for overpriced drinks. I'm glad I dressed up tonight. My ex got to see what he was missing. Ungrateful bastard. I was wearing dark FCUK skinny jeans, a purple leopard print off the shoulder shirt and black heeled ankle boots with buckles down the side. My long dark brown had been straightened and I just let it hang around my shoulders because I am lazy and suck at doing hair. My lips were a dark red and I had smoldering black eye shadow around my dark brown eyes. I was looking fine.

My head whipped around as I heard a rustling in the bushes beside me. I clenched my fingers like claws. I was ready to claw up anybody or anything that was looking to harm me. A little brown rabbit scampered out of the bushes. I swear it looked up at me with an expression of, 'Really, bitch? You think you can take me?' It then bounced away and disappeared into the bushes on the other side of the path.

I shook my head with a slight chuckle as I turned back towards my destination. I bit my tongue to keep back a shriek. There was a man on the path in front of me just staring at me. I don't know where the fuck he came from. I could see for quite some distance down the path and he had not been there when I stopped to check out the bushes. The rabbit encounter had taken but a minute. He couldn't have come down the path that quick. It was like he had just materialized from the trees. Jesus, what did I tell myself about freaking myself out? I was getting way too jumpy.

He was pretty cute. I think he was probably a couple of years older than me. His hair was black and spiked. He was wearing dark jeans and a red Hollister shirt under a beaten black leather jacket. I was digging the jacket. He was cute but he was still staring at me like a creeper. That guy in American Psycho was good-looking and he killed hookers with a chainsaw so a pretty face isn't a very good indicator on whether or not he was a psychopath.

"Are you alright?" He asked me.

I frowned at him. "Yeeeaaah…. Why wouldn't I be?"

He just shrugged. "You seem pretty drunk and you're alone in the woods."

Damn, he's a regular detective. I caught myself rolling my eyes and hoped that I wasn't coming off as annoyed as I felt. I must have been stumbling more then I realized though. "My apartment is just over there." I gestured in what I hoped was the direction of my apartment.

He glanced over his shoulder like he had heard something I hadn't. "I don't think it's safe for you to be walking alone out here. I would feel a lot better if you let me walk you back."

"Wow, and I thought chivalry was dead." I mockingly smiled sweetly then rolled my eyes. "Fuck off and leave me alone." I demanded and walked passed him. It would have been a great exit if I hadn't tripped over a tree root and fallen on my face.

"You okay?" He knelt beside me. He sounded like he was trying not to laugh. Asshole. I knew it wasn't his fault but I felt like blaming him because he had creeped me out and I needed someone to blame for my misfortunes.

"My jeans!" I gasped as I saw the hole in the knees of my two hundred dollar jeans. It had been like two week's paychecks and it was the most I had every splurged on a pair of jeans. All of my frustrations became too much for me and I started to cry.

"Don't cry!" He patted me on the shoulder. "They are just jeans…." He seemed like he didn't know how to deal with female crying. I used to win arguments with my ex by crying. He would completely freeze and just stare at me like he had near seen tears before. God, he was such a robot. Why did I miss him so much?

"My ex has a new girlfriend!" I sobbed. "And she is so pretty!"

"She can't be prettier then you." He told me. Just because I am upset doesn't mean I am suddenly stupid. Lies don't comfort me.

"My friends abandoned me! They wouldn't leave with me!" I cried some more.

He put his arm around my shoulder as I just cried it out for a few minutes. I needed it. I had been letting my stress build for a while. What happened at the bar was just the beginning. I hated my job because my boss was a crazy dictator. I was unhappy with college. The advanced courses were starting to get to me and I was constantly being pressured to start my career.

"I'm so embarrassed." I said softly once my crying had slowed down. I hardly ever cry in front of people. I don't cry in front of my own friends let alone cry in front of a stranger. I don't like to look so pathetic. I hated to show weakness.

"Don't be." He gently squeezed my shoulder. He stood up and reached his hand down at me. I gave a soft sigh and put my hand in his. His hands were like ice. It wasn't that cold outside. Well, maybe. I still can't tell what the correct temperature is due to all the alcohol flowing through my veins.

"Thanks." I said softly as I let him pull me to my feet. I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with him. I was still extremely embarrassed. I'm sure I look like a mess. I'm not an attractive crier. My face was most likely red and my eyes were probably blood-shot and puffy. God, he probably thinks I am such a train wreck. Not that I care what some random creepy stranger thinks of me.

"Are you alright?" He asked me. He was still gently holding my hand.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." I assured him as I pulled my hand out of his.

"Look, let me walk you back. You are drunk out of your mind. I am not comfortable letting you walk back alone." He seemed genuinely concerned. Great, so I really did freak him out with my crazy.

I breathed out a tired sigh. "Whatever." I answered. If he tried anything I would claw out his eyes. I guess if he was going to jump me he could have while I was on the ground. So he's probably safe. I still wasn't about to let my guard down. I would rather not end up skinned alive or wake up in a room where I have to saw off my own feet.

He fell into step beside me as I headed off in the direction of my apartment. He was at a reasonable distance. He wasn't uncomfortably close but he was close enough that we were walking together. I hate when you're walking with someone and they walk a couple of strides ahead of you. My ex used to do that.

"I'm Darius, by the way." He decided to introduce himself.

"Desdemona." I replied.

He raised an eyebrow at me which is the usual response when I tell someone my name. "Shakespeare, right?" He questioned.

It was my turn to raise my eyebrow. I was actually impressed he knew that my name was from a Shakespearian play. "Yeah, it's from Othello." I responded. "My mom is a high school English teacher."

"I like it. It's a pretty name." He told me.

I just shrugged off his compliment. I wish he would stop doing that. I mean seriously he's not getting laid just because he told me I'm pretty. I'm not that insecure. Okay, I am but not tonight. I am so not in the mood. I mostly just want to go home, eat a tub of cookie dough and watch gory monster movies till I pass out. That would be amazing.

It took me a few minutes to realize that we were heading towards my apartment. I mean, yeah, obviously that was our destination but I wasn't leading. He was. How the fuck does he know where I live? My spider sense was tingling. Something was off with the whole situation.

I played with the house keys in my hand. I had three keys on a Hello Kitty lanyard. I had a house key, mail box key and ridiculously long car key. I put the keys in-between my fingers like makeshift brass knuckles. I hope it looks like I am just casually playing with my keys. I don't want to alert him onto my suspicions. It might make him jump into action and drag me into an alleyway and murder me or whatever it is he intends to do. I need to keep my cool.

"So, Desdemona, you're a student, right? What's your major?" Creepy Ass Stalker Boy questioned.

"Martial Arts. My body is a deadly weapon." I inform him.
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow.
"No. It's fashion." I reply. "What is yours?"

"History." He grinned like it was some sort of inside joke. What a fucking freak. He is going to murder me and wear my face like a mask.

He opened the door to my apartment building and held it open for me. I had made no indication that this is where I live. Fuck. I am not paranoid. He really does know where I live. I smiled in thanks and walked in. He followed me up the stairs and to my door.
"So…this is where I live…" I said awkwardly. Please go the fuck away or I will scream.

"Let me come in." He said forcibly. His eyes seemed to be glowing a slight gold. He had balls. I had to give him that.

"Uh, no." I respond.

He seemed puzzled by this. He stared into my eyes and his eyes seemed to be even brighter now. "Desdemona, invite me in." He commanded.

"Go fuck yourself." I snorted.

He looked shocked. His eyeteeth seemed to be freakishly long. Grandmother, what big teeth you have. I am still drunk. I need to puke and go to bed.

Darius, if that really is his name, growled at me like an animal and made a grab at me. I panicked and without even thinking about it, I punched him in the throat with my makeshift spike brass knuckles. He gasped out and staggered away clutching at his throat. It took me a minute to notice the blood dripping down from where he hand clutched the wound. I stabbed a hole in his throat. I had probably just killed him. It was self-defense. He had followed me to my apartment and attacked me. It was obviously self-defense. The jury would side with me.

He glared at me. Somehow his eyes had become blood red and his eyeteeth has elongated like fangs. Drugs? He snarled at me like an animal and bared his fangs at me. I had seen enough and quickly attempted to unlock my door with the blood drenched key.

He made a grab for me as soon as I dived into the darkness of my apartment. He stood in the entrance of my apartment glaring at me with his glowing eyes. I fearfully backed away. He was touching the doorway like a barrier was keeping him out. The fuck?
"This isn't over, Desdemona." He informed me coolly. "I always get what I want."

"Get fucked." I couldn't help but growl back.

He let out an animalistic snarl and walked away. I kicked the door shut behind him. Then I either fainted or passed out. I can't be sure of which. I didn't even know I had been asleep till I was jerked awake by violent nightmares. I found myself lying in the middle of my living room. How much of the previous night had been real and how much had been a drunken hallucination? He had attacked me but he wasn't a monster. He was defiantly some sort of sociopath but he wasn't a glowing eyed fanged monster. I must have imagined it. Monsters don't exist. He had obviously been on bath salts or some shit. On my way to my 8:00 AM Applied Psychological Statistics class, I saw long scratch marks down the hallway of my apartment complex like someone with razor sharp claws had sliced through it. Next time I am taking the damn Safe Ride.