Status: My grandparents have been scaring me senseless with stories of people who get mugged or ***ed when they go off to college so I decided I'd be less frightened if I wrote a story about it.
You're Alright
Un
Moonlight peeked through the thick clouds, barely illuminating the sidewalk she was following. It was too late, too late; she shouldn’t have been walking at this time of night by herself. She was so far from her dorm. But she would be fine. She would be. A small silver whistle thumped at her neck to the rhythm of her footfalls, and if all else failed there was mace in her backpack. To her left was the library, all closed down for the night, to her right were the train tracks. She could see from the signs she was at the edge of campus. Her cellphone’s clock read 11:15.
Hands reached out of the darkness and grabbed her ‘round the mouth, pulling her head into the warm cavern of a stranger’s chest and stopping the girl dead.
“Sh, little dear.” Was the whisper in her ear, the uncomfortable touch of bony fingers brushing the hair out of her face from behind. She was putty in the grasp of whoever was holding her, arms and legs bound useless by the paralytic fear that had come over her body. Screams spread across her brain; telling her to bite those hands, to do anything, to grab for her whistle and blow until she couldn’t anymore. Arms attempted to struggle weakly to the old whistle her grandpa had given her in case of emergencies, but her fingers couldn’t get a grip on it. She was pulled down, down, to the depths of hell on the concrete sidewalk, pain in her head from the impact, foreign hands scrabbling at her pockets and her backpack for money and food.
Spread eagle on the unforgiving ground she finally found the strength to reach for her whistle as the blurry figure loomed above her, disappointed at only finding two dollars in her back pocket, glinting blade held centimeters from her neck ready to carve a second grin into her body. She brought the icy object to her lips and blew with all she had, blew even though nobody was close enough to save her, even as the train whizzed by and drowned her out with a horn of its own.
A tear sliced down from her eye and landed with a tiny plop beside her face. She was doomed like the other damned fools from the stories her family and friends had spoon fed her before she moved to campus, and she was furious with herself for being so stupid.
“It’s alright, bird,” the voice whispered to her again, but she couldn’t hear over the loudness of the train. “You’re alright.” Hot, sharp pain filled her throat gushing fire and mixed with the loose pebbles in the concrete, slipping down through the girl’s already red hair and out into the street. There was thumping in her ears, getting softer by the second and she couldn’t be sure if it was the fleeing steps of her stranger or her heartbeats slowing down. Her cooling fingers clenched and beat upon the ground in a last ditch effort to call someone’s attention but of course nobody came. One last forced breath missed her mouth and gurgled from her neck, and the moonlight hid behind a cloud as if to mask what it had seen with darkness.
Hands reached out of the darkness and grabbed her ‘round the mouth, pulling her head into the warm cavern of a stranger’s chest and stopping the girl dead.
“Sh, little dear.” Was the whisper in her ear, the uncomfortable touch of bony fingers brushing the hair out of her face from behind. She was putty in the grasp of whoever was holding her, arms and legs bound useless by the paralytic fear that had come over her body. Screams spread across her brain; telling her to bite those hands, to do anything, to grab for her whistle and blow until she couldn’t anymore. Arms attempted to struggle weakly to the old whistle her grandpa had given her in case of emergencies, but her fingers couldn’t get a grip on it. She was pulled down, down, to the depths of hell on the concrete sidewalk, pain in her head from the impact, foreign hands scrabbling at her pockets and her backpack for money and food.
Spread eagle on the unforgiving ground she finally found the strength to reach for her whistle as the blurry figure loomed above her, disappointed at only finding two dollars in her back pocket, glinting blade held centimeters from her neck ready to carve a second grin into her body. She brought the icy object to her lips and blew with all she had, blew even though nobody was close enough to save her, even as the train whizzed by and drowned her out with a horn of its own.
A tear sliced down from her eye and landed with a tiny plop beside her face. She was doomed like the other damned fools from the stories her family and friends had spoon fed her before she moved to campus, and she was furious with herself for being so stupid.
“It’s alright, bird,” the voice whispered to her again, but she couldn’t hear over the loudness of the train. “You’re alright.” Hot, sharp pain filled her throat gushing fire and mixed with the loose pebbles in the concrete, slipping down through the girl’s already red hair and out into the street. There was thumping in her ears, getting softer by the second and she couldn’t be sure if it was the fleeing steps of her stranger or her heartbeats slowing down. Her cooling fingers clenched and beat upon the ground in a last ditch effort to call someone’s attention but of course nobody came. One last forced breath missed her mouth and gurgled from her neck, and the moonlight hid behind a cloud as if to mask what it had seen with darkness.