"Authors Note - Okaai, this is my first novel via this account but hey, hopefully you'll like it.
The picture, if you see one, is not mine, it's someone elses but I thought it would suit the story. I would love it if you became a fan/liked/comment on this story because all feedback is good
feedback. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to add suggestions to the story's plot. Anyway, enjoy!" ><
Every night, when I’m on my own, my mind always decides to play tricks on me, torment me with that fateful
night. If I’m lucky, I can, sometimes, still hear my wheezing breath, my murmurs to God for some sort of help, then my sounds always fade, and I hear the determined voice of someone else, deep and
luring. It is always his voice.
“Come out, come out wherever you are!” He calls, his eyes scanning through the alleyways that surrounded our
I don’t come out. I never do. I simply stay there, crouching behind some sort of dark object that’s covered
by shadows. I close my eyes like always, trying to stop my hands from shaking with some sort of tingling sensation while my legs grow faint on me. I squeeze my eyes harder when it doesn’t work, I
pretend as if I’m at home. I slow my breathing down a little until it’s become so faint that I hardly hear it. Then, like the pattern it follows, silence surrounds me. His footsteps have halted
somewhere and I hope to whoever is in power that he is gone. I swear a little and then move into weird position until I’m half standing, half crouching.
Shakily, I pull myself up, so that I’m in view, scanning around myself for the man who’d followed me from
the park. Fuck! I was never going there again. Then slowly, everything becomes surreal, like a movie were someone’s escaping from a masked murderer because that’s the moment when I turn around,
thinking that he’s finally gone. That’s the moment when relief washes around me as I exhale. That’s the moment when I see his face looking down on me. I scream but it doesn’t sound very well
because soon, I have some gloved hand shoved against my mouth, the force is stopping me from screaming properly.
I can still feel the taste of the leather, as if I’d just taken a bite out of the couch or
Struggling, he drags me back to the alleyway; his hand clamped down across my mouth, while the other
encircles my waist and forcefully heaves me up. He stops after he reaches the pavement and continues to try to yield me. Looking back, I can hardly grasp why I wasn’t safe. There where houses along
the same street, they where further up of course but, but surely someone must have heard my agonising cries?
My adrenaline reaches a new high when I witness a black van swing around the corner; its speed is quite fast
to look like a random passerby. I struggle even more then.
Twisting around, I’m able to escape from the gloved man, the moment the driver of the van has stopped the
engine and is diving out of the doorway to help. Gasping, I take to running again, having no choice but to edge my bets and wander into the shadowy alleys. Then…the bit I always regret comes
My hand scrapes against the cement that creates the sides of the alleyway while I stumble to find the side
of it, darkness not helping. I’m screaming now, forgetting about remaining silent, as it seems they would find me anyway. I sprint to the end of the alleyways and reach the clearing, my eyes
blurring with tears. No one has come to save me. As I run, my mind thinks about just giving up, no one is going to help, so why not?
Almost giving in, my pace slows a little, before speeding right up.
My dad was a cop, he was the head of his little station and so I had heard of the recent killings that had
started back up:
Woman found after five years: raped and murdered!
Kidnapped and fatally injured, teenager dies in hospital.
Murder looms as a woman, missing for three years, is found dead!
Daughter of local shop-owner assaulted and killed.
I could see my headline boldly in my own head, ‘Police chief’s grief as daughter disappears.’ That’s what
spurred me on. Now, I wish it didn’t.
As I continue to run, my eyes go straight to the nearest thing, a young man, no older than twenty-two
walking a dog. I scream for help one last time as he thankfully notices. He gaze shocked at first before it becomes one of worry and fear. Running over to me, he and his dog stop me. His dog
circles around us as he grips my shoulders and asks what happened. Through my tears, I start to tell him…then, his eyes grow wide and his body falls limp. I shake with fear as I look up and see the
gloved man. In his hand, he holds a gun.
That’s when I give up. Tears stream down my face as I surrender to my knees, instead of fighting I just
plead the same load of shit that the man has probably heard a thousand times. I back away slightly before he crouches down and grips my ankle, heaving my body across the ground, which was concrete,
closer to him. Then, silently, he holds up something, a needle? I try to wriggle away but it’s too late, the needle is already in me and well, I’m already fading fast into the dark abyss. I fight
with consciousness just long enough to see a black van pull up on this street instead…
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