Time is Ticking

Prologue

Everything changed that one night. I was walking home from ballet practice, the sound of the rain hitting the road was all I could hear. The feeling of rain drops falling down my face was very refreshing after a long practice.

There was the odd puddle on the footpath, I loved jumping in them. Although my mother always scolded me. My eyes were trapped on my feet, counting every second step, 1... 2... 3... 4... I would count to eight then start again.

The headlights on passing by cars would race across my body, leaving as soon as they came. Some would drive over the puddles, making water hit the sidewalk.

My house was just around the corner, so I started to slow down and relax in the fresh night air, because I knew that when I got home I would have to face my mum. And she would surely be mad at me for walking in the rain, especially without an umbrella.

A boysenberry purple van drove past me, then pulled over to the right hand side of the road. The back sliding door opened, creating a loud noise to be heard in the quiet of the night. Out got a burly man, who had a rough edge to his figure. He looked up and down the street a few times, then when he looked over to where I stood, he turned around and grabbed something from inside the van.

'Run!' my inner voice screamed, but my legs did not obey me. They seemed to have glued themselves to the pavement. 'Stupid legs, work goddammit!'

He started walking towards me with wide, broad steps. His boots making the puddles on the road splash up onto his jeans, which he didn't even seem to care about. "Come on, come on, come on..." I muttered to myself, trying to get my legs to move.

The man was roughly ten paces from me when my legs finally wanted to listen to me and run. I turned around and ran, using a quote from my ballet teacher to encourage me. 'Your body can stand almost anything, it's your mind you have to convince.' And right now, my mind was so very convinced that I did not want to be murdered tonight. My duffel bag was hitting my legs as I ran, so I took it off my shoulder and held it in my arms, listening to the sound of my feet hitting the pavement, trying to hear any offbeat footsteps.

As the rain got heavier, so did my breath. I ran down an alleyway and hid beside the dumpster, hoping he would not find me.

I covered my mouth to silence my heavy breathing, my chest kept rising and falling fast. The sound of my heart going crazy, beating loudly in my ears.

It was silent for a few minutes,  but I'm not sure I could bring myself to get up and look around.

A few minutes passed and I still heard nothing, so I got up quietly, surveying the area carefully. Just in case someone felt like jump scaring me, such as the burly man.

My footsteps were slow and cautious, when I looked up and down the street a few times and was positive that the coast was clear, I grabbed my duffel bag and cautiously walked out onto the street. Then I proceeded to make my way home again. I looked over my shoulder every eight seconds, flinching when cars drove past me, seemingly slowing down.

I rounded a few more corners till I came face to face with Mr. Burly Man, "Should've looked a bit harder, girly." He whispered in my ear. Then he put his hand over my mouth, dragged me his van, threw me in, then slammed the door in my face.