This red-head can see into my soul; through the flesh and bone. She knows what I’ve done. The guilt audibly churns my stomach. The screeching wheels of the subway are louder, so only I am aware of how uncomfortable I am.

The red-head knows, too.

I try to pin my eyes to an object outside the subway window, but we’re in an exceptionally long tunnel and the lights on the wall are whizzing by at a high speed. I’m getting dizzy. I bring my gaze inside. Oh God, it burns. She’s staring hard at me. There’s a heat in that stare, a heat born from hatred. What I’ve done is truly awful – the devil’s work, really.

My eyes won’t move. Free will no longer exists. It’s surprising I haven’t slid off my seat onto the floor since I feel like my muscles have all turned to jelly. A bead of sweat drips down near my left eye. The red-head isn’t that close, but I can see her hate-gaze shift ever so slightly. She sees the sweat; she knows she’s killing me. Please, I whisper in my head, look away. The prayer isn’t specific; I just need one of us to break eye contact.

Her phone rings. She takes a second to answer. Two seconds. Three seconds. Answer it, I implore, my eyes screaming at her. She looks down at her phone and I am released.

I have to get off this subway. I don’t care what the next stop is, it’s now mine. I pay close attention to my feet until the wheels grind to a halt. I’m five stops away from where I need to be, but I don’t care. As soon as the doors open, I’m rushing off. My feet whisk me away like a leaf caught in a breeze.

I did it. I’m away from the person that witnessed my terrible crime.

*clang-ching*

I stop cold. That sound was very close to me. I turn my head just enough so my eyes can peer behind me.

My house keys.

Should I leave them and call the locksmith when I get home? Surely the red-head didn’t get off at the same stop. Surely she did not! My body, sure of my mind’s conclusion that I am alone, turns and picks up the keys. When I straighten up, I’m eye-to-eye with the soul-sucker. She’s standing there like she was meant to be there at that time, this way, with me.

“I saw what you did,” she says coldly.

What do I say? My mind is blank and my lips are frozen shut. My legs have a weird electrical charge. I want to flee yet am unable to do so.

“Real awful,” she began, taking her sweet time. “Can’t believe you’d do such a thing, or that anyone would be so heartless.”

I can feel a tear escape the corner of my eye.

“You took the last donut when you clearly saw that old gentleman reaching for it first.”

A betraying sob escapes me. That’s it, no denying it now.

“You know that donut shop closes at 12, don’t you?”

I couldn’t nod.

“And it was 11:58 when you grabbed that donut?”

Again, frozen.

“There was no way for them to make a quick batch to feed that man.”

My cheeks are drenched in tears.

“Instead of a delicious late-breakfast – that he always has, mind you – he had to go to the deli next door and settle for lunch. A meatball sub.”

I drop to my knees and pound the pavement with my fists. “Nooooooo!”