Maybe Somebody Has To

Maybe Somebody Has To

Lobelia Needam said boldly:

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Her parents grounded her for a month when she said it.

Her teacher piled on extra assignments when she heard her say it.

Her boss at her part-time job fired her when she shouted it to her.

She was fuming as she walked home, muttering curses and promising vengeance on all those who had tried to curb her freedom that day.

“Stop!” a voice said from behind her. She sped up.

“I told you to stop,” the voice repeated.

She walked even faster.

A rough hand grabbed her arm.

“Do what I tell you, or else!”

His grip tightened until she was forced to stop from the pain coursing up her arm. She was twisted around until she faced him.

“So, you think you can sass me, do you?”

His face was horrible to see. No teeth in his mouth, his nose bent to one cheek, his eyes holding an evil glow.

“What does that mean?”

A full-arm slap cut off the sentence before she had finished. She felt blood pouring from her mouth.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing, mister?” a female voice shouted.

He pulled back his arm to hit her again, only to have it grabbed from behind and twisted up his back.

“I asked you what you thought you were doing,” she hissed tightening the hold.

“Not your business, is it?”

“I’m making it my business,” she said as she wrenched him away from Lobelia, slammed him on the ground and held him there with a knee.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked Lobelia.

“I think you should let me take you to the hospital after I call the cops,” the woman said.

For once, Lobelia didn’t say her familiar phrase.