Without knowing or understanding what had just happened, every bit of breath leaped from my body. A sharp pain directly between my shoulder blades made its presence known as my torso shot forward and my head snapped back. The momentum of the blast sent me running forward and I miraculously remained on my feet. I turned around just in time to see his fist making its way into my now exposed gut. My instincts took over and I reached toward the oncoming train of five fingers clenched into one wrecking ball of destruction. My reaction was just enough to offset the punch into my side and limit the damage.
In the split second that I was able to deflect his attempts, I had regained enough of my breath to prepare for the next punch and completely block it from entering my ribcage. Adrenaline pumped through every ounce of my body as I threw his third attempt away and buried my own set of clenched fingers deep into the side of his bony face. The meeting of the bones in my hand and his jaw created a loud thudding yet cracking sound. The slap of my knuckle's skin and his face's only made the thud of knuckle and muscle more spectacular.
He was completely surprised as his head was jerked backwards and he involuntarily reached for his face with both hands. While my right hand was following the punch through, my left gave a straight jab to his gut. I could almost feel the air escape him as my fist fought its way through his soft fleshy stomach. I had completely stopped any idea of attack, but I couldn't stop. He had tried to jump me in a dark alley and he was going to pay for it.
My right fist owned his face. Another forceful jab to his left eye was followed by an uppercut with my left to the right side of his jaw which was quickly followed by a straight punch through the center of his face. It was almost as if I had crushed some kind of soft fruit with my clenched fist. My hand was covered in a hot, sticky liquid that my mind was unable to register. My left hand was curious and wanted in on the action. A hook to his right temple gave my left fist the same wet sensation that my right had just experienced.
His bloody and battered face fell to the dark pavement. My back still ached as I cocked my right leg back and fired it into his chest. He begged me to stop, but he couldn't finish what he had started and I was just giving him what he had meant to give me. My left foot supported my body's weight as I let him have it again and again. Coughing, yelling, and gargled sounds of him choking on his own blood came up at me from the dark ground. I bent over with both my hands on my knees and caught my breath as the writhing mess at my feet curled and rolled over clutching itself.
I stood and breathed in the still air before reaching into my back pocket and grabbing my wallet with my bloodied hand. I flipped open the black leather and pulled out a single dollar bill, crumpled it up with my sticky fingers, and tossed it at him. Before turning away, I looked down at my work and spat.
* * * *
I've never been mugged. I've never been afraid while walking to my car. It's never crossed my mind to use the buddy system when getting out of work at o-dark-hundred, but I've always kind of wanted to know what that fear feels like. What is that feeling that a woman has while clutching her car keys in her hands when walking through a dark parking lot? I'll be honest. I've always kind of wanted to get jumped so I could see how well I would hold up in an attack. I think I would do pretty well, but I guess I'll just have to wait and find out.
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