Isabella's POV:
I walk down the road after my youth club at the church. It's winter time so its already dark but I'm not scared. I'm wearing a plaid dress that comes to my knees with cotton socks, I have a high pony tail in that has a red bow that matches my dress and fiery red hair. My simple bag swings by my side. I walk down the alleyway parallel to my street to get to my house when suddenly an arm grabs me and pulls me into a shady corner by a wall. I cry out in surprise hen I'm pushed against a wall and a man stands in front of me with foul breath.
"Hey little lady, don't you look lovely in this dress. I bet you look better without it" he breaths in my ear. I scream and try and kick him off but he just holds my hands above my head,
"no no no please no" I beg with little sobs but he doesn't let me go, "no please no!" I try again but he pushes my dress up my thighs and I scream again, "please God help me in my time of need" I whisper to myself, breathing heavily and praying out loud.
I look round when I hear footsteps and see a boy running towards me,
"Get your hands off her" he spits and pushes the man hard to the ground. The man get back up and holds out a knife. He presses the knife to my neck. The boy steps dangerously close to the man, "let her go" he growls and the man gives him a cold look,
"You take one more step and she's dead" the man says and laughs evilly. I whimper and hold my hands up, looking at the figure that's only illuminated by the streetlight. I sob heavily, "Please help me please please help me" I beg, still sobbing as the cold metal of the knife digs into my skin. I look at what looks like an angel and pray that he will help me.
The boy suddenly rushes forward and pushes the man back against the wall. He punches him square in the face. I watch as the man stabs the knife into the boys side just underneath his ribs. The boy kicks the man hard in the crotch and kicks him hard when he falls to the floor. The boy picks up the knife and takes out his phone. The last thing I see is the man crumpling to the floor and my angel standing, illuminated by the streetlight.
YOU ARE READING
Our Little Secret
Short StoryGOOD GIRL Isabella Smith doesn't drink or swear and she is a devout Christian. But all of a sudden her life changes with one mop of curly brown hair. BAD BOY Bradley Simpson, sexy, built and covered in scars is exactly what Isabella needs-and wants...
