Gripped

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
a rough draft of a short story written for English class; girl gets robbed in the middle of the night as she wrestles with her fate

Submitted: June 06, 2017

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Submitted: June 06, 2017

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Meghan woke up just after midnight as a hand wrapped around her forearm. She caught a quick glance at the red digital alarm clock on her bedside table, managing to see the glowing 12, but neither of the two numbers that followed. Her dog, Fluffles, was yipping angrily as a tall, broad man forcefully shoved her into the linen closet in the hallway of her apartment. She screamed with as much volume as her lungs would allow before the closet was closed and barricaded, probably by one of her bar stools.

 

“There’s no use yelling, girly. No one’s gonna save you now.” The man yelled over the ruckus of her belongings being thrown into bags.

 

“Eh, Luca, look at this dog, thinking he’s all feisty. I’m gonna keep him.”  A different man called out happily, a thick Mexican accent making his words hard to distinguish at first. She presumed that the one who’d ripped her out of her bed was the ‘Luca’ the second man was talking to.

 

“Esteban, you cannot take someone else’s dog to fill whatever void Sophia left. She is gone. Get over it.” Luca snaps with a huff.

 

“Like you’d know anything about relationships.” Esteban muttered under his breath. If she wasn’t locked in a closet, she might have even laughed.

 

Over top of their ridiculous argument she could hear the clinking of her household items being collected carelessly, the low growl of Fluffles’ bark turning to whimpers, and the satisfied laugh of the burglars; all the makings of a not-so happy ending.

 

“Look at this, we’re almost done! We’re gonna make so much money off of this stuff.” Esteban called across Meghan’s apartment happily.

 

Heart beating faster by the second, her brow was damp with sweat. She tried to think of a way to get out of this alive. Her stuff didn’t matter- it was all replaceable anyways. But her life, any chance of a future? That, on the other hand, was not. Meghan knew this as she yelled for help over and over again, searching for something, anything, to break herself out of this situation.

 

The stool screeched across the floor as the knob turned, revealing a shorter, stubby man who must have been Luca. The next few seconds were a blur. The twist of the barrel on Luca’s gun, the wicked laugh as his finger hovered over the trigger. His hand was steady, unlike Meghan’s, which were quivering in terror. His calmness indicated that this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. Meghan sharply took in a breath and her head throbbed as she couldn’t seem to silence all of the voices in her head just wailing for another chance.

 

Meghan’s last memory was blood seeping through her clothes onto her white carpet. Fluffles was barking frantically in Esteban’s arms, the two burglars laughing in satisfaction. The burnt smell of gunpowder lingered in the dark hallway as the pop of the bullet being released rang through Meghan’s ears. Her brain spun around in her skull, and the ground was rising towards her. Then everything went black.


© Copyright 2017 Paige P. All rights reserved.

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