A Hero?

Emanuele's heart felt like it was going to come out of her mouth. The hand that held the strap of her bag loosened immediately. A real nightmare, hellish and terrible, took possession of his consciousness.

Inside herself, she tried to find some spark of calm, of tranquility. Something she could hold on to while a huge hurricane of doom raged inside her. But instead, beyond pure lethargy, there was fear. An icy, dark, empty fear, like the mouth of a huge beast about to devour everything in its path.

Would that... would that be the day he would finally die?

Those would be your final minutes, those in which the memories of our life pass before our eyes like a short movie?

She could not see her attacker, nor recognize his voice. The breath that exhaled from her profane mouth was horrible, a mixture of alcohol and rotten teeth. The icy blade lay close against her neck, and Emanuele felt a thin trickle of blood pouring down her lap.

Soon other noises took over the alley. Rough, evil laughter, as well as the clatter of boots on the ground. Amidst the panic, the girl didn't know if it was two or three hundred men. The angry tears of a few minutes ago had become pure panic. She knew what happened to women in the big city; not that this was anything new in small towns.

The assailant who was holding the knife grunted once again:

"Okay, kitten. I'll tell you what you need to do. If you scream, you die. If you run, you die. If you want to be funny and use pepper spray, you die. All you have to do is stand very still. Do you understand?"

Even if she could answer, the blade was so sharp that it could cut her throat with a simple movement. Emanuele felt tremors so violent that she might faint.

"Me and my boys have been a while without... You know."

An ominous chorus of laughter sounded once again. 

At that moment, all Emanuele wanted was to get out of her own body. Her deceased aunt used to say that the soul of a human being is free. For seconds the redhead imagined her own spirit detaching itself from her skin and flying away. But she doubted that she would ever return to the prison of flesh and bones if she experienced such freedom.

Finally the voices behind them turned into real beings: two men with evil faces, whose faces were petrified in a grim expression. Their crazed eyes promised violence, and also death. But not a quick death.

How could this be happening? Why to her? The girl could not contain her cries of agony. First she had to rush out of her mother's house to survive, advancing the process of the trip. As a consequence, she not only lost contact with the owner of the room, but also bumped into a stranger who claimed to be her brother.

When he needed a place to sleep, he encountered rapists. Would she live to make it to the next day?

It was not fair.

Even if she wanted to fight for her life, even if she desperately wanted to complete her goal and overcome the internal storms... She couldn't. She couldn't...

Who was she against those armed and dangerous strangers?

No one.

Just as her mother had always said. 'You are nobody, Emanuele.'

As the assailant pushed her closer to the huge brick wall, her voice echoed in her mind. 

'You ran away from me, Emanuele, and now you will suffer the consequences.'

The girl's bitter cry became louder. The blade pressed harder into her neck.

"What was what I told you, you slut? Be quiet!" the man whispered in her ear.

Trying to swallow her crying, Emanuele finally walked the few steps to the end of the alley. From there you could barely see the main road. The thick raindrops fell mercilessly on the cold body already prepared for the girl's death.

One of the rapists came up to her and ripped off her coat. The other was about to unbutton her blouse.

"Don't worry, we'll be real gentlemen. Won't we, boys?"

The vile laugh that came out of his mouth was accompanied by others immediately. Emanuele did not react.

She was finished.

She closed her eyes. She thought about the friends she left behind, the cozy and modest house in Porto Feliz, the school, the graduation, her first and only boyfriend. If her spirit couldn't fly away, at least her mind could try to stay away.

Before she could try to understand what was happening, the hand that held the knife to her neck simply slackened. The boys in front of him widened their eyes and began to fight with a fourth man who had appeared.

He was very tall and strong. A huge hood covered his face, and all that could be seen were thick lips and a beard. Within seconds, the stranger snatched the knife from the hands of the main assailant and brandished it at him.

Emanuele tripped over her own feet trying to run, and stood there as she watched the confused but heroic struggle.

The stranger knew how to fight. Very well, in fact. After cutting down two of the attackers, they decided they were at a disadvantage and took off running. 

The man didn't follow.

He just looked at her.

Emanuele was gasping with anxiety, fear, panic and hatred. Her legs simply wouldn't move.

So he crouched down to her, careful not to get too close and frighten her. Slowly, the man removed the hood, revealing his face.

The girl opened her mouth without a sound.

It was Joshua.