Protected

“Fired! You’re fired! I can’t believe you could be that stupid!”

“I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to! I got the orders mixed up! No one was helping me!” Tears are in my eyes and my hands are up in a surrender as the paramedics continue working on the poor guy I've nearly killed.

His face is so swollen that he can’t open his eyes, but his breathing sounds a lot better now that he's had an Epipen. I was more than sure he was a goner when he gripped his throat and began turning blue. Thankfully, another patron new what to do because I completely froze behind the counter as everyone was panicking. I feel awful.

As he’s taking deep breaths from the oxygen mask, his eyes cut to me and just from the glare, I know he’s pissed. He tries to say something, but thankfully, the anaphylaxis has hindered him from speaking very well.

I honestly didn’t mean to mix mocha sauce in his iced coffee even though he specifically said during his order that he’s allergic to it chocolate. I was distracted by the million other orders my manager was throwing at me even though it’s only my first week here. No one even thought to train me, so this should’ve been expected. I can’t be perfect at a job I just started.

“Get the hell out of my shop, Remi! You better hope that he doesn’t sue!” The manager continues to yell at me even as I take off the apron and gather my things from the back as fast as I can.

He slams my last check into my chest, snatching the apron from my fingers so hard that it hurts my fingertips. Everyone in the shop is staring at me like I committed murder when I was just trying to work this shitty job. Now, what the hell am I going to do?

Once I’m out of the shop, I keep my head down so no one on the street sees me crying. I’m more mad at myself for messing up yet again than being fired. At this point, I’m used to it. If I’m lucky, the guy won’t want to sue me. Maybe the manager will promise him free coffee for life to make up for my mistake.

Jobless and sad, all I want is to go home and take a long nap before figuring out my next move. I barely have any money and I’m running out of jobs to apply for, so I can’t rest too much. I’ve been fired from two call centers, a clothing store, a restaurant, and as of today, a coffee shop. The only job I haven’t been fired from was the secretary position and that’s because my boss went to prison for money laundering before he could let me go.

Now, I’m back at square one.

Living a few blocks away, I’m rushing to get home when I spot my favorite fruit stand having a sale. I’m so sad that I don’t plan on stopping until I see big fresh navel oranges and Granny Smith apples. My mouth immediately waters and with my last ten dollars in cash, I buy a bag full.

Okay, I’m feeling a little better.

With a little hope in my heart and a lack of situational awareness, I go to cross the street without looking and a black SUV comes to a screeching halt before slamming into me. Everything slows down as I shut my eyes, preparing for impact, only for it to never come.

When I look again, the doors of the car are swinging open and two men are getting out, one the driver and the other a passenger. Both are wearing some very spiffy dark suits, but the passenger’s body is a lot more built, filling the suit more than the lean driver with dirty blonde hair hanging around his shoulders. They both look like super hot UFC fighters.

I don’t have time to harp on their looks too much because the passenger comes charging up on me like he’s a cop, adding to my panic. He walks up so fast that by the time he stops, a soft wave of air blows strings of hair from my face. I gasp loudly, almost stumbling back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you know how to look before you cross?!” His neck is slightly red and there’s a large vein pulsing under his collar, a reaction I don’t think is very warranted.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ve had a long day and…”

“Do you think I give a fuck about your day? Just stay out of the fucking road!”

This time I'm gasping as his audacity to speak to me like that as he turns on his heels to head back to the car. His overreaction angers me and that mixed with being fired must send me into a temporary psychosis because I march up behind him.

“You don’t have to be a complete jerk, you know!” I shout back and when he turns, he gives me a smug look.

“Get from in front of my fucking car, bitch.” He shouts back and for some reason, it hurts my feelings a bit. Does everyone want to be mean to me today? I’m tired of people thinking they can walk all over me without me doing something about it, but as mad as I am, it doesn’t excuse what I choose to do next.

Digging in my bag of fruit, I grab an apple and in a blink, It’s mid air and colliding with the windshield of the car with a loud thud. The apple shatters a bit, spewing apple guts all over the window.

Immediately, I draw attention from bystanders as both men share the same defensive look. The asshole passenger starts marching back up to me, but before he can, I already have an orange in my grip. I chunk it at him and he turns to dodge it causing the orange to hit the back of his shoulder, splitting in half before plopping to the ground.

“I’m sick of everyone thinking they can treat me like shit! I’m a fucking human too! I don’t bother anyone! All I want is a fucking job that I don’t hate and here you come being a butthole, making my shitty day even shittier!” I feel empowered as I yell at him, but in my mind, alarms are blaring from his lack of regression towards my tantrum.

Most people would run the opposite way of a fruit slinging mad woman, but instead he charges me. Snatching my shirt, he takes me to the ground in one switch yank and in a flash, he’s standing over me with a knife to my throat.

I definitely didn’t see this coming.

“Do you know who the fuck I am!?”

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” My eyes water as the point of the blade digs into my throat when I swallow. My body freezes as his large hand clutches my shirt and some of my hair, staring at me like I'm nothing to him.

“Yeah, now you’re sorry, huh? Beg. Beg for your useless, pathetic life”. He hisses at me, his tone laces with venom and hate.

I don’t know if he’s serious about begging until I feel the blade pinch into my skin, his dark hazel eyes burning into mine. There isn’t a glimpse of kindness or sympathy in them in regards to me. All I did was hit him with a freaking fruit!

“Please, don’t kill me. I’m sorry.” I choke out, trying not to break out in a full sob.

There’s people standing around, but no one steps up to help me in any way. I don’t blame them though. A minute ago, I was acting like a mad woman and assaulting a stranger. This is definitely out of character for me.

I hear a car pull up and out of the corner of my eye, I see blue lights. Oh, thank God, the cops are here to get this crazy man off of me.

“I need you to back away, Mr. Leone.”

Wait, they know each other? Just great.

Immediately, the blade yielding man rises off of me, leaving me on the ground, shaking and in tears. I sit up slowly, feeling embarrassed that everyone is standing around watching. I try to wipe my tears, but they keep coming.

“I want this woman arrested.”

“What?! I didn’t do anything? I’m sorry about the fruit! I’m sorry I hit you.”

Arrested?! He wants me taken to jail??

“You hit him with…fruit?” The cop looks at me in humorous disbelief before whipping his cuffs out. “Dumb girl.”

My eyes widen as he lifts me onto my feet, gently turning me around. Fresh tears pool in my eyes as I put my hands behind my back to make his job easier. I can’t believe I’m being arrested right now. How did my life turn into this mess all within a few hours? I went from waking up, ready to work a long tiring shift at work to being arrested. Not for almost killing a guy with chocolate sauce, but for throwing fruit.

I cry all the way to the station and continue to cry as I sit in the booking area. I cry as they take all my information and when the woman taking said information finds out what I did and who I did it to, she laughs at me. Who the hell is this man?

When I’m allowed a phone call, I don’t know who to dial. I don’t have any close friends and calling my family is out of the question. I don’t know a soul who would drop what they are doing to come bail me out. I’m going to have to sit in jail until I see a judge and hopefully have whatever I’m being charged with dropped. If this guy has me charged with a crime just for hitting him with a lousy orange then he’s a real heartless jerk.

With no one to call, I sit in the jail cell and try not to have a nervous breakdown. Today has been the worst day of my life and tomorrow is going to be even worse because I’ll still be here. This is what my life has become.

I used to have a better life, a more fun life before I went and screwed everything up. I’ve been spending months trying to put some sort of life together for myself, but it’s been incredibly hard and lonely.

You never think that one day everyone will turn their back on you. Friends and family, suddenly see you as a failure instead of someone they love. I didn’t think it would happen to me, but it did. I lost my family, friends, fiancé and all the privileges that came with my life. Meanwhile, the real villain got off scott free.

I don’t want to sit around harping too much, so I zone out, ignoring the small chatter of the other ladies nearby. I haven’t been stripped of my clothes yet, but I wish they’d get it over with. By then the acceptance of my fate will really sink in. Right now, I still feel like I still have a chance to get out of here.

“What are you in here for?”

I glance over at an older woman, sitting against the wall with her arms crossed. Her clothes are raggedy and her hair is all over the place. She looks like she’s been in here a few times.

“I assaulted a man with an orange.” I mumble, but she hears me clearly.

“An orange.” She chuckles. “Softy. I could beat your ass with one hand. And what the fuck are you wearing?”

I look down at my linen overalls with an old band shirt under it. The overalls have pockets and hangs like a loose smock. It’s comfortable and after my family gave me the boot, I wanted to reinvent my style a little. I went from looking preppy to earthy in an attempt to make all this mess feel like a spiritual awakening of sorts. It’s not working out too well.

“I’m not here to fight anyone.” I reassure her.

“Yeah, I’m sure mommy and daddy will be here soon to bail you out.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” I roll my eyes and lean my head back against the wall, staring up at the cracked, water stained ceiling.

Hours pass and more women come in after me, filling the waiting area. I manage to keep anyone else from striking up conversation with me by keeping my head down and ignoring any comments about how I look. I guess I don’t have that natural criminal appearance and it’s causing me to stand out.

Unsure of the time since the clock in the room is broken, I begin to doze off and my stomach begins to rumble, making me really wish I had an apple right about now