Thinking back to that situation made me realise how truly lucky I can be sometimes. Not the ‘score, I found two dollars on the side walk’ type of luck, but the ‘hallelujah praise His name I found ten bucks in my brother’s jeans while doing his laundry, sucker’ type of luck. See, I just barely escaped the evil clutches of Zahran without any injuries. Zilch. Zippo. Nadda. While the other day, I heard Laura talking to Anna that Zahran the delinquent had struck! Apparently, he had gotten into a fight with some third years. The verdict? Two third years hospitalized, one with minor injuries and one lost his ability to walk.

ONE LOST HIS ABILITY TO WALK.

See, if that was what Zahran could do to a young, healthy, nearly-grown man, imagine what he could do with a not-that-tall, unfit acquisitive me? Pushing the thoughts of sale prices and the black market to the back of my mind, I needed to regain my focus.

Talking about luck, escaping that devil himself, Zahran-whatever-his-last-name happened last week. Today, I need that sort of luck.

Why? Why do I need to get hit by the lucky lightning bolt?

~

“OH MY GOD, AGNES!” Laura was screaming, “OH MY GOD, WE’RE GOING TO DIE! WE ARE GOING TO DIE! STOP!”

See, I was in too much of a panic to reply, on account of… well, on account of – “HOLY SHIT!” I slammed the brakes on and vehemently turned the steering wheel to the left, only just missing that lamppost by several inches. Hallelujah! “Did you see that?! Did you see that?! Did you see that Laura, that lamp post nearly hit us!”

Laura was not impressed. Not at all. One hand was gripping on my shoulder and the other, clinging on the door handle. She was squeezing her eyes shut, taking quick deep breaths. Actually, I think she might be hyperventilating. “Jesus, take the wheel!”

Another violent swerve to left. This time, I was a bit in more control with the clutch than last time. “Laura, I think I’m getting used to a manual car!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t drive manual before we got into the car?!”

Ignoring her cries, I tried to figure out which gear I was supposed to change into. “Crap.”

“I mean, Agnes,” Laura, being over-dramatic as usual, continued her hysteria, “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU STOLE A FUCKING CAR!”

Yes.

I stole a car.

I stole a fucking manual car.

“I can’t believe you,” Laura cried as she tightened her grip on me. I mentally winced in pain. I don’t think she realised her fake acrylic nails were acting like talons. Sharp daggers were piercing my shoulder. “Just for three hundred dollars, you’d steal a car? And a car from uni, too?!”

“It’s not stealing,” I corrected the distraught Laura, “It’s borrowing. Gabriel said he just needed this car to borrow for the afternoon. He said he’ll return it as soon as he’s finished.”

“Shit!” Laura frantically pointed at another pole, “Watch out!”

Slamming on both brakes I –

“WHY ARE YOU ACCLERATING?!”

Oops, wrong one. Laura immediately grabbed the steering wheel, vigorously turning it right and grabbed the parking stick up, hauling the lever up, forcing the car to turn into a delayed halt, skidding forward and an almost snapped off lever.

“SHIT!”

~

Oh, my god. Why did my head hurt so much? My eyelids felt so heavy and despite my eyes were closed, I could tell I was spinning around. Last night wasn’t Student’s night, was it? I slowly opened my eyes.

All I could see was white. Oh my god. I flinched. I died! I was dead! Please, tell me I didn’t go to hell!

Then I heard a voice. It was a soft, soothing voice. My sight started to regain focus. “Oh, no honey, don’t get up too fast.”

Okay, that wasn’t Laura. Shit! Where was Laura? She was in the car with me! I didn’t recognize the voice and it hurt to move, so I could only gurgle in response. Ugh.

“That is quite a nasty bump. Yes dear, just rest. Do you remember where you were? What’s your name?”

What? ‘Nasty bump’? I immediately turned my head. Whoa, not a good idea. I groaned at the throbbing of my head. Not cool, not cool.

“I-I… I’m Agnes… I’m still at uni, aren’t I?”

“Okay, that’s good. Oh, dear, don’t move so much. Just rest, honey.” I slowly turned to the voice and blinked, willing my eyes to focus. Huh, it was Edinborough’s on-site nurse. She held both my hands. “Okay, dear, I’m going to ask you to squeeze both my hands. Do you remember what happened? It looks like you had a concussion, love.”

“Con-concussion?!” I tried to get up, but a gentle yet firm hand held my shoulder down. I couldn’t get up, despite her small stature, this woman had an iron grip.

“No, no, no love. Don’t move so much. There, just rest. Now, squeeze my hands.”

I slumped my shoulders, giving up the one-sided struggle. Was that why my head throbbed so much? “What happened? I thought I was at uni.” I sighed as I squeezed both hands. What was she doing?

“Good.” She released my hands, placing them down at my sides. “You’ll feel a tightness around your arm, that’ll be the blood pressure cuff.”

…

“Oh, honey! Your friend told me you were in a car accident.”

I felt the bump on my head and winced at the pain. “Yeah, it feels like it.”

The nurse patted my shoulder. “But it looks like it wasn’t anything major, love. Somehow, you were lucky and managed to escape, only with a few scratches and a light bump on the head.”

So that’s why. I groaned. Well, this definitely did not feel like a ‘light bump on the head’. “I do faintly remember something…”

The nurse bit her lip. “Although, just to be sure dear, we’ll need to organise some scans. And do a few more assessments on you. I’ll let your friend know you’re up so just rest for now, okay? We ran out of Band-Aids, so your friend was kind enough to fetch some. I think they’ll be here in a minute.” She squeezed my shoulder before getting up. “I’ll be back hon. If you need anything, there’s your buzzer, okay? Red button for the nurse, remember?”

I slowly nodded. “Thanks.”

The nurse smiled and quickly made her way to the door. “Ah, you’re here already. That was quick. Thank-you for that, dear.”

I closed my eyes. My head was throbbing. I heard the person mumble replies to the nurse.

“Well loves, I’ll be back soon. And remember – call if you need anything.”

I heard the door click and I could sense the person had just sat on the visitor’s seat. “My gosh,” I opened my eyes and turned to Laura, “Laura, my head hurts like – shit.”

Shit was right. Shit was very right. The Laura who was sitting on the visitor’s seat didn’t look like Laura. No, the Laura in front of me no longer had curls. The Laura in front of me no longer… No, the Laura who was sitting on the visitor’s seat wasn’t Laura, but Zahran. Zahran Lobachevski.

I stared at him. “Wha-what-what-what… who-who-who?!” If my head weren’t throbbing so badly, I would have piss-bolted to the fields already.

“Give me your arm.”

Oh my god! He really was going to sell my organs! “Yo-you can’t!” I blurted. He only stared at me. I frantically looked around the room. I needed a legible excuse. My eyes landed on the motivational picture of the two cats on the wall. “I-I… I have AIDS!”

He frowned at me and folded his arms. “Right. Not that I could contract AIDS just by physical touch, you know.” He placed a box – which I quickly, but subtly glanced at, which indeed turned out to be Band-Aids – onto the desk. I shifted uncomfortably and looked at the Band-Aid box. It was the ones with Disney Princesses print on it.

Zahran began to unpack another suspicious box. Holy shit. My end is near. He brought some instruments of torture! “Are you feeling better?” He conversationally asked as he opened the suspicious box, retrieving a bottle, some cotton wool and a pair of disposable gloves.

That caught me off guard. I stared in disbelief at him as he began placing some gloves on. What was the meaning of this? What was his plan? What is this? Did he want me to lower my guard down? Hah, think again, Zahran. If this was going to be a battle of the minds, of the wits, I would definitely win.

“I… I guess so…” Ugh. I even accompanied my feeble response with a pathetic attempt to shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, which wasn’t a very good idea as that made my head throb even more.

He nodded. I could only stare at him as he reached out to my arm and started dabbing it with a cotton wool.

“Ouch!” I quickly retracted my arm away and held it close. I glared at him.

“I’m disinfecting your wounds.” Zahran reached over and held my hand. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

Grunting in response, I allowed him to continue.

“This will hurt a lot.”

“You little shit!” I tried to yank my arm away, but Zahran, that snake! He was still holding my hand and wouldn’t let go.

What seemed like eternity of a mental marathon of pain and torture, Zahran took off his gloves, placing the remains of cotton wool in the bin.

“All done.” Zahran smiled.

I could only stare at the ceiling in sheer exhaustion. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I heard the rushing of water as Zahran washed his hands. How torturous! The rumours were true! He was as evil as they said!

…got out a phone and started talking to it. “Yeah, she’s in the nurse’s office. I don’t know. I think it’s in the building behind the student services building?” He then hung up.

“Is… Is that my phone?” I asked cautiously. I frowned at him. Why does he have my phone? Or a phone that looked identical to mine with a picture of Laura and me on it?

He shrugged and handed it to me. “Wouldn’t stop ringing when I brought you here. It was freaking annoying so I turned it off.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“You sure you’re feeling better?”

I slowly nodded, deciding to drop the question on why he had my phone. Maybe it’s best I didn’t know. “Y-yeah…” What was this? Laura said this guy was dangerous, but so far, the only thing this guy was doing was making sure I was okay. Wait. Maybe he was only asking so much because he had a guilty conscious…

“I’ve heard about you.” Zahran began packing away that evil box of torture. “You’re the infamous loan-shark-mercenary chick, Agnes Bernhardt.”

Where was he going with this? “Did… do you want a loan or something?” I asked slowly.

“No. But you were lying to me.”

Suddenly, I could feel that lump of bad feeling swell up inside me. “W-well…” I looked away. I couldn’t really lie to him again, could I? I secretly glanced at him, unsure. What did he want me to say? ‘Yes Zahran, I was lying to you because I was scared that you might find out my real name and stalk me and then half-kill me so you could sell my organs to the black market’. Urk. There was no way I could say that!

“Since I hear you’re good with money, I’m thinking money shouldn’t be a problem then.”

“What?” I immediately turned to Zahran. Ugh. I rubbed my temples. His face remained blank. Really, where was this guy going? What was his plan?

“Or perhaps you prefer a lifetime worth of servitude?”

“Huh?”

He held out his hand.

“What? You want me to hold a hand of a famous person? I won’t do it for free, you know.”

“My car. Your ass. Five fucking thousand dollars please.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. What was the change of attitude for? My ass? Did he want my ass? Sorry, Zahran but my services don’t extend that far. “I’m sorry. I do not speak English except for this sentence.” I looked away and closed my eyes, hoping that if I ignored him long enough, he’ll somehow go away. Or I would wake up from this strange nightmare.

Suddenly Zahran grabbed my hand and I felt something cold.

“What the hell?!” I immediately opened my eyes and looked at the item he had placed in my hand.

It was a crushed rear mirror that looked like it belonged on a car and not in my hand.

“We don’t have insurance for my brother’s car,” Zahran calmly stated, “I guess slapping me wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

I froze and dared not to look at him. “You’re lying,” I muttered. This guy was probably a con man. A skilled con man, at that. Someone I’d probably need tips from later one. But nevertheless, what he was saying was all lies.

“If you don’t believe me, I have some students and staff members for my witness,” he got out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth. “That, and I’m not afraid to go to court.”

I mentally scoffed. He probably threatened his ‘witnesses’ and was on a first name basis with his defence lawyer.

“You…” I blinked at this guy in disbelief. “You wouldn’t dare pick on a sick person, would you? That’s horrible!” I even added a little coughing and sniffing to convince him to forget everything and pity me.

“You’re not sick,” Zahran coolly stated, “you’re injured.”

I turned around and sent him a look of disgust. “That’s even worse!” He ignored me and took out a lighter from his pocket and lit his cigarette.

“We’re inside a building, you know.” In a nurse office, too. Oh, why won’t the smoke alarms go off in my time of need?

He deeply inhaled his cigarette before slowly exhaling smoke into my face. I grimaced and tried to wave the smoke away. What if I had asthma? Inconsiderate. This was why I hated smokers.

Seeing my response, he chuckled. “I’m Zahran Lobachevski and you owe me five thousand dollars.”