text: The steps sprawled out before me without ever promising to end. As each set finished another waited around the bend. My breathing became shallow, as I struggled to keep up my pace, and I silently cursed the apartment building for not possessing an elevator. Somewhere else in that endless stairwell, another pair of shoes clattered upwards with alarming speed. Despite its fervent pounding, my heartbeat no longer drowned out the sound. Just a little faster, just a little further, I told myself. I willed my legs to propel me forward, past the fiery strain in my calves. The foreign footsteps had a steady cadence, a clapping of soles on steps followed by the softer shuffling between floors. The rhythm grew deeper as the distance between the two of us dissolved and soon the sound of another person panting matched my own urgent gasps. I fumbled in my coat pocket for the small blade I usually carried, careful not to catch my foot on the steps as I searched. As my fingers closed securely on the handle, I caught a flash of movement between the slits in the bannister. Disembodied dark jeans and Nikes ascending. The blade was free from my pocket now, my grip tightened around it in nervous anticipation. I stumbled onto the final floor and there he was, furiously twisting a key into the door immediately to the left of the staircase. His head jerked towards me and he quickly appraised the knife in my hand. His eyes went wide with panic, and with his empty hands outstretched towards me he began to protest. “Don’t-” but I had already lunged towards him. The man closed his arms around himself. I had underestimated the distance between us and the knife glanced off the right sleeve of his hoodie, snagging the fabric. He had fallen backwards into a juxtaposed wall, but my failed attack emboldened him, and now he struck back at me with his left hand , at the very moment I had reared back the knife to try again. The force of his fist upside my head was enough to unsteady me. Seeing further opportunity, the man attempted to wrestle the knife from my hand with both arms, bringing me to the ground in the process. As we fell together, I managed to kick over a wooden umbrella stand, sending it and a single umbrella skidding across the floor. My coherent thoughts fell away and I was nothing more than the rage and fear pulsing through me. I pushed against him, swinging wildly with my free hand, but I was overpowered. Sprawled on the ground, I stretched my arm as far above my head as possible. I knew if he got hold of the knife I would die here, on this floor. Pinned down and desperate, when he leaned over me to dislodge the blade from my fingers, I sunk my teeth into his side. Instinctively, he slammed his fist into my temple, and the shock of it sent the knife from my fingers and through the bannister. In my daze, I barely registered the thud of it settling onto a step out of reach before his hands were on my throat. With one hand clawing at his in vain, I blindly pawed at the ground with the other before my fingers found the umbrella stand, and swung it solidly at his head. His grip loosened from my throat and I swung again. His face erupted, spattering me with blood. I swung once more and he slumped sideways, relieving me of his weight and allowing me to scramble free. He was still now, startlingly so, given how powerful he had seemed in the previous moment. I hastily dug my hand into the pocket of his hoodie and fished out my stolen cellphone, still ready with the umbrella stand in case he regained consciousness. I pocketed my cell phone and turned to flee down that abhorrent staircase. As I began my descent, I heard the man groan, and from above me I heard him mutter in contempt. “Crazy Bitch.” I snatched up my blade from a step towards the bottom of the first set of stairs, and did not pause to look back. This time no footsteps echoed after mine.