As if my day had not already been completely ruined.
I stood there shaking, rain dripping down my face, my clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin, and I glared at the black car with pure anger burning in my chest. My fingers curled tightly into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to control the rage boiling inside me.
The car slowed down.
Then it stopped.
For a brief, foolish second, hope flickered. I thought maybe he would step out. Maybe he would apologize. Maybe today would surprise me for once.
But no.
Instead of looking in my direction, the man stepped out of the car and walked straight toward the bus stop beside the motel. A bus stop. He had a luxury car and still chose to stand there like he owned the place. He pulled out a cigarette from a packet, placed it between his lips, and lit it calmly.
As if I did not exist.
As if he had not just splashed filthy roadside water all over me.
He brought out his phone and continued a conversation, speaking lazily while smoking with the other hand. His posture was relaxed, confident, careless. And standing beside him was his bodyguard, holding an umbrella over his head.
That was what finally broke something inside me.
Someone already standing under a little shade was still being protected from the rain, while I stood there drenched, soaked to the skin, dirty water dripping down my legs, my hair plastered to my face. He did not even glance in my direction. He did not look guilty. He did not look confused.
He looked completely unbothered.
I knew he was aware of what he had done. No one splashes someone like that and pretends it never happened. He just chose to be ignorant.
I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
No.
I was done.
I was not going to let another person walk all over me while I stood silent. I had already lost my home. My family. My dignity. I was not about to lose myself too.
I bent down quickly and pulled off my shoe, my hands shaking with frustration. Before my mind could talk me out of it, I hurled it with all my strength toward the car.
"Stupid car," I muttered under my breath.
Then I picked up a stone from the roadside and threw it.
I only meant to hit the back of the car. I swear I did. I never imagined my throw would be that strong. The stone flew through the air and smashed straight into the rear view mirror of the Lamborghini.
There was a loud crack.
The mirror shattered and fell to the ground.
My heart stopped.
Oh no.
Just as the glass hit the pavement, the man and his bodyguard turned around at the same time.
The man looked like something straight out of a gangster movie. Expensive clothes. Sharp features. Dangerous confidence. The kind of man who looked like trouble even when standing still. His bodyguard froze for a second, then both of them started walking back toward the car.
Panic flooded my body instantly.
"No no no," I whispered to myself. "Please go back. Please just go back to whatever you were doing."
I knew if I stayed, I would be in serious trouble.
I turned on my heels and started to walk away as fast as my sore body would allow, but then he saw it.
He saw the shattered mirror lying on the ground.
"What the hell?" he shouted.
He stepped out from under the umbrella completely, ignoring the drizzle, and ran toward the car. His bodyguard rushed after him, trying to shield him.
"Sir, it is still raining," the bodyguard said, struggling to keep the umbrella over his head.
"Fuccck!" the man screamed.
His voice was loud and furious, echoing through the street.
"What happened to my car? Who did this? Who the hell did this?"
He spun around angrily and faced his bodyguard.
"Taurus," he snapped. "Did you hit this car? Was it like this when you parked it?"
I slowed my steps just a little, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest.
I knew, deep down, that this was not over.