Mina

 "My poems always find you. Let them, as you know that every heart has an affliction and yours is forever mine to take.", Mina's voice was cracking with each word as she read the small note aloud. She drops her hands to her side, looking around as she stands on the stoop to her apartment. Her eyes searching frantically for someone she hopes not to see.

For months now Mina has been stalked by an unknown man. He leaves what he thinks are love notes by her door, on her car, in her mailbox, even had flowers delivered to her at work. She's gone to the police numerous times, but without a name, or even a description, there's nothing they can do. She's stuck protecting herself from what feels like a ghost.

She's had two deadbolts added to each door in her home, always locking the door behind her, even just to relieve herself in the bathroom. She sleeps with a baseball bat and knife close by. She has knives and scissors stashed throughout the house. Even some in her car, and carries a small pocket knife in her purse.

She balls the note up in her fist and throws it away as soon as she walks inside, then locks the front door. Click! Click! Both deadbolts lodged into place. Feeling more comfortable, she kicks her shoes off and walks into the kitchen for a glass of wine. She needs something to calm her nerves. She stands at the counter, staring out the frosted window, trying to focus on the blurry shadows as the setting sun throws its waning light into the trees. Her mind races trying to go through every face she's seen in the past three months; one of them has to be him. Before she knows it, her wine glass is empty. She fills it up, then walks into her living room, bringing the bottle with her.

Flopping into the couch, careful not to spill her wine, she flips the tv on. She takes a sip as she scans through the channels, stopping on a rerun of The Carol Burnett Show. She giggles, seeing Carol coming down a flight of stairs wearing curtains, "I saw it in the window and couldn't resist", the tv speakers say to Mina, she laughs. "This is one of my favorites too", a deep voice says behind her. She whips around on the couch, throwing her wine glass in the direction of the voice. It hits the wall and shatters, leaving a red wet blotch on the paint. Two feet away the voice comments on her aim. She stands, now facing a man in her living room.

"Mina, it's me, Ryan. Don't you remember me?" His voice was gentle, but was tinted with anger. Mina shakes her head. "Three months ago you came to my register at Target." he takes a step closer, "Remember that?" Nearly hyperventilating all she could do was shake her head again. "You bought that movie, uh.." he snaps his fingers trying to remember the title, "It was um, Flight of the Navigator!" He jolts his hand up in her direction pointing as he remembers, she flinches. "Now you have to remember that! We talked about it! Remember?!" His tone more angry than gentle now. He steps a little closer again and she runs into the hall, trying to make it to her bedroom.

She slams the door behind her and bolts the locks. Click! Click! She hears him slam into the door, "Mina! Open the door!" She grabs one of the knives hidden in her room and clutches it tightly as she sobs. The wooden door continues to bow on its hinges as Ryan throws himself into it. Mina continues to cry as fear grips her, holding the knife close to her chest, her tears reflecting in the blade. She looks around the room, hoping to find an escape, now realizing placing bars on her windows not only prevents people from entering, but also stops her from escaping. Then she sees her phone on the nightstand. The pounding continues as she reaches the phone and starts to dial 911.

The door crashes into her room just as the operator answers her call, Mina screams and drops the phone. Ryan lurches through the opening, stumbling over the unbalanced fallen door. "Mina!" he yells, "You're mine now!" She can hear the tiny voice on the phone saying something, but her focus is on the man threatening her.

She grips the knife in her hand, holding it as if she's preparing to chop carrots. She stands, the tears no longer flowing. Fear replaced with fire, she narrows her eyes at him, as if telling him to come closer. He smiles, knowing he can overpower her and steps off the door, walking closer to her. She smirks, and raises the knife. "You're mine now." she whispers under her breath.

Once he's within arms reach, she slings the knife at his face, the tip catches his cheek, leaving a small blood trail. He jerks back and wipes it away, "That all you got, bitch?" he scolds. She swings the knife again, missing him entirely. He grabs her by the hair and starts dragging her toward the bed. She thrusts the blade up, stabbing him in his upper thigh. He lets go of her as he yanks the knife out, "You fucking bitch! I was just going to fuck your brains out, but now.." he looks down at the blood seeping through his pants, "I'm going to fucking strangle you to the brink of death, fuck you, then kill you!" He tosses the knife, and grabs her again. She kicks him in the groin, he goes down, not for very long, but it gave her enough time to retrieve the bat under the bed.

She pulls back, the bat above her head, then releases the tension. The upper part of the bat landing on his left ear, knocking him unconscious. She picks up the semi bloody knife and buries it in his groin. She walks the house, collecting all the hidden weapons then returns to the bed room.

Police sirens can be heard approaching. As the officers make their way to the front door they hear the clicking of bolts being released, they brace themselves, guns drawn. The door opens and Mina appears, blood covering her small framed body. "Ma'am, are you ok? Where's the intruder?" one officer asks, she nods then says "he's in the bed room. Second door on the left."

They storm her apartment, cautiously clearing each room before entering the bed room. When they walk into the room, they lower their weapons. One called on his radio that someone needs to detain the victim, his tone questioning the last word. Laying across the bed was Ryan's body. Twenty knives protruding from his body, twelve pairs of scissors sticking out from different areas. Though one pair was slightly open, just enough so each pointed side fit neatly into his eyes. It was pushed far enough into his skull that the hinge rested on the bridge of his nose.

"Are we here for him or her?" One officer asks. "I'm not sure now. That's not self defense." another answered.

Mina sat in the back of a police car, one foot resting inside the cruiser, the other on the ground, a blanket wrapped around her. Blood smeared on her face where she attempted to wipe it away, a small deviant smirk upon her lips.