Not long after I moved to NYC I bought a container of mace. For some reason I thought it was a good idea. I carried it around for about two weeks then threw it in a desk drawer and never really thought of it again. After I had lived there for a bit I never once felt unsafe.

Here in Richmond I've been robbed twice. And now there is a missing VCU student. It doesn't look good. The case is getting national attention. This weekend they found her missing car about a mile from my apartment. She's probably dead.

I'm starting to really feel unsafe in my neighborhood, which is a very foreign feeling for me. Last night I walked to a nearby bar to meet friends - which I do all of the time. But last night something was different.

Before I left I dug into that same desk drawer, found the mace, and dropped it into my purse.