Collection of Narrative and descriptive writing

I was scared stiff

(The following response has been written by Khyrul Anam Khan.)

"Hey, hold it right there! Put your arms where I can see it."

Before my brain could even work out what those words meant, I felt my right arm squeezed between an iron fist. Someone whacked me straight on the face. Blood oozed out like a fountain from my nose. Someone from behind struck my knees with a stick-like thing which brought me collapsing to the ground.

I was flabbergasted. Before I could barely catch the drift of the sudden onslaught, I was kneeling at the middle of the road, piercing the still, morning air with shrieks of agony. It was only after I had discharged some of my body pain in the form of shrill cries that I looked up to discover the reason for the sudden turbulence. I saw a tall figure, all cloaked in black, wearing a mask on his face. The exposed eyes of the figure scowled at me with such fire that it penetrated my eyes and gave me chills. When I first saw his bloodshot eyes, I knew I was waist-deep in trouble. I turned my head sideways and found two other well-built men grabbing me by the arms. By the farthest stretch of rationalism, I could not scour any reason behind that incident. What did they want from me? Each crazy thought that scampered past my mind knocked out every possible pillar of explanation. I knew I was not worth even a penny.

Suddenly the cloaked man spoke out in a grumbling voice.

"Don't move. Give me the MONEY."

The 'MONEY' - I almost forgot. It was the precious bundle of printed papers concealed in my brown jacket which I needed badly for the operation of the child. That money meant life to me. They knew about it. I was not afraid for my life, I was worried about the money. Suddenly the mugger pointed his gun at my forehead- as a last warning. But I could not give up. With a sudden burst of desperate energy, I shook myself free of the clutches, knocked down the man standing in front and started running like a blind man.

I wished I could run like a wild dog out of the shackles. But I was virtually limping. Still I pressed on it. After covering a few yards, when I was about to take a left turn, I heard a whizz past my ear and a few streaks of fire on the concrete wall. Damn! They were shooting at me. After taking the turn, I groped my way through a dark alleyway. All the time, I cried desperately for help but only to hear it fade into the distance- I could not, logically, hope for help at 6 o'clock in the morning. Added to that was the constant howling of those chasing wolves from behind warning me to stop; this nearly made my heart throb out of my mouth. Despite an aching ribcage, I carried on but soon I discovered myself squirming on the street, being rammed into a lamp-post. I soon found hovering masked faces above my face, their mouths salivating to rip me apart. Still, like a drowning man would clutch onto a straw, I placed a desperate clutch over my jacket with all my remaining strength. Like a blessing right from Heaven, I heard the sirens of an approaching police car. Being fed up with fruitless efforts, the masked hyenas finally took to their heels. I still lay there- bleeding, gasping, wriggling. I let out a cry with all the air in my lungs- a cry of victory, a cry of having succeeded!