Theresa Lewis

When I was seventeen, I got my first real job right in the downtown core. I was pretty proud of myself. I didn’t make much money at my first job, but that was okay with me. I still lived at home and my parents provided well for all ten of us children. I was, however, expected to pay room and board. On payday, most of the girls went out for lunch and did a little shopping. I didn’t have enough money to do the things they did nor to dine in the restaurants that they dined in. If I walked to and from work, I could afford a hotdog and a pop for my lunch. I usually ended up going to a fast food restaurant by myself.

One lovely summer afternoon as I was walking back to my office, I spotted two men amidst the throng of passersby that were coming towards me. I don’t know why, but I sensed their tension. The closer they came, the more my skin prickled with apprehension. I had never seen these men before, but I wished they would hurry up and pass by me.

No sooner had they passed me when they both spun around and grabbed me from behind and shoved a paper bag containing a white powder over my mouth and nose. I instinctively held my breath while I struggled to free my arms. As soon as I got one arm free, I bashed the guy who was holding the bag over my face. My surprise retaliation caused him to drop his bag on the sidewalk while his partner continued to drag me along. With my free arm I rammed the other fellow in the gut with my elbow. He released his grasp on me and I managed to get away. I screamed as loud as I could to create a ruckus and make the guys leave me alone.

It worked. One lady who had seen the scuffle stopped to see if I was okay. I assured her that I was fine, but I said I was really ticked off because those guys ruined my good shoes when they dragged me. Once it was over, I was left shaking so badly that I could barely walk the rest of the way back to work.

I don’t know how other people react when they get scared like that, but my mind goes totally blank then something else takes over. Perhaps it was my Guardian Angel that made me hold my breath while the bag of white powder was over my face.

I have been in other devastatingly frightening situations and my reaction is always the same. I go totally blank, almost calm. So far, I have always managed to do the right thing at the right moment because I end up safe in the end.  I feel no fear at the moment of impact. In the aftermath of the trauma, I totally fall apart.

People have asked me if I was scared out of my wits at the time and I feel weird saying that I feel nothing at all until the incident is over then I babble like an idiot and have to be scraped off the floor.

That night when I arrived home, I told my mother what had happened. She told me the white powder was most likely heroin or cocaine. I asked her why they would do that to someone and she said that they were probably looking to put me into prostitution. Her response scared me all over again. She warned me to be extremely vigilant when I am in the downtown area. I have to say that I am always vigilant, even now. I have also learned to trust my instincts. If a situation feels unsafe for me, I try to avoid it as best as I can. Whenever I get bad vibes from a person, or a place, or a situation I do my best to get away immediately. I never challenge the forces.

The End