7.12.2012

Day 11: Challenge

Challege #5


Incorporate the themes of gender roles and power.



He’d started following her over a block ago. She’d felt his eyes crawling over her as she crossed the street by the market. She tightened her grip on her bag, raised her chin and walked faster.
          There were plenty of shadowy alcoves for someone to conceal themselves in. Even more buildings left empty and abandoned. The few streetlights that still worked flickered ambivalently against the night. Anything could be waiting in over a hundred different places.
          He wasn’t in a rush, but he was gaining on her. And the motel was still six blocks away. She had to make a decision.
          At the next corner, she ducked down the side street, her hand already feeling around her bag. Just as her fingers brushed the silver hilt, a hand clamped over her mouth while an arm wrapped around her waist. Her squirmed and clawed at the arms pinning her.
          ‘Don’t,’ hissed into her ear. The sound of her native tongue was enough to stun her. ‘Be still.’
          She hadn’t heard her own language since they’d come to this place. Her brother had happily abandoned all their customs in favour of assimilation. He either didn’t care or didn’t notice how much she still needed the old ways.
          A few moments later, the man who had been following her came into view, and she realised how stupid she’d been. Her captor had pinned her arm with her hand still in her bag. Still holding the knife. She would show them their mistake.
          The man stopped at the corner and turned in a slow circle. He looked right at her and his eyes slid away again. Shrugging, he jogged across the street and went back the way he came.
          She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she didn’t need to find out. The muscles were tensed and ready for the slightest give in her captor’s grip. It’d been so long since she’d had a good fight; she was almost excited.
          And then her back was slammed against the wall, knocking her bag to the ground. Her lungs seized, but she swung her knife through the air anyway. There would be time to breathe later.
          His hand locked around her wrist. The knife fell to the sidewalk. He stood with his face centimetres away from hers. Heat radiated from his skin, fuelled by the dark fires in his eyes.
          He shouldn’t be able to move that fast. He shouldn’t be able to sneak up on her. His eyes shouldn’t burn like that.
          ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ he asked, his voice low in his throat.
          She looked up at him, defiant. Forced herself to meet those eyes. To see him and not just the target points. As his features worked themselves into a familiar pattern, anger surged through her. An attack could have been forgotten; this was unforgivable. ‘I don’t answer to you,’ she said.
          ‘The fuck you don’t.’ He stepped back, pushing a hand through his shaggy hair. ‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ he muttered, lighting a cigarette. ‘Look. I’m responsible for keeping you safe, so when I tell you something, you damn well better do it.’
          ‘I don’t need a man to defend me,’ she said. ‘Men are weak.’
          ‘Oh, yeah?’ He grinned at her. She hated that look. He was too damn cocky. ‘You didn’t do so well against me, did you?’
          ‘You’re not a man,’ she said tensely. Her face flushed, but she forced herself to stay in control. A queen never lost her composure.
          ‘And you’re no queen,’ he countered. ‘Not anymore.’ He took a drag from his cigarette, then used it to gesture around the street. ‘Here you’re just another dumb little girl in a short skirt about to get herself killed wandering around shitty neighbourhoods after dark.’
          She had personally led her army to victory in thirteen battles by the time of her coronation. She had been the only undefeated champion in the sparring circle. There wasn’t a warrior, alive or dead, who matched her skill. ‘I could have handled him.’
          ‘And made an even bigger mess for me to clean up.’ A few more drags on the cigarette, and he sighed. ‘Look, I get it. And it sucks, but you can’t be you anymore. Not if you want to make it here.’
          ‘And “making it” here is letting men push me around?’
          His smile verged on a laugh that didn’t quite form. ‘Not exactly, but you can’t slit their throats just because they piss you off, either,’ he said. ‘And you do what I tell you.’
          ‘In my kingdom, I could have you killed for even speaking to me. I could even kill you myself, if I chose.’
          ‘Next time we’re in your kingdom, you can kill me as many times as you want,’ he said. ‘Just make my life easy while we’re here.’ He looked up at the derelict buildings and a grin snaked across his mouth. ‘In my kingdom.’
          She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. Even for a man, he made a pathetic warrior. He relied too much on tricks and gimmicks. But he knew this place and she didn’t. ‘Why is it that the women in your kingdom let the men just do as they please?’
          This time, he did laugh. ‘When someone figures that out, I’ll let you know.’
          

No comments:

Post a Comment