A flash of red shot through my side vision. My body turned before my brain could react. She was running. Not screaming, not yelling for help. She was running…straight to a dead end. Two men followed her, both burly and large. I was in shock. This girl looked fragile, with porcelain skin and large doe like eyes. Her hair was dyed a bright fiery red, the same as my own. Her bag hung from her shoulder, swinging wildly with the motion. Her long legs worked fast, and she almost flew down the road. I looked back at the men to see one pull out something shiny from his pocket. A gun. I started to run after them, hoping I could catch up in time. I was about to yell out when the girl stopped and turned. The first man, the one with the gun, was only a few feet away. He raised his arm, his finger hovering over the trigger. My eyes widened as his finger moved to shoot. I was almost there, but I wouldn’t make it in time.
I stopped in my tracks as a single shot echoed through the cool air of the November night. I watched as the girl grabbed her arm, which was bleeding heavily through her white coat. I watched as she took a deep breath before lifting her hand off her arm. I watched as she stood her ground. I watched… as she fought. Her right foot kicked up, knocking the gun out of the first man’s hand. One hand curled into a fist as she punched him in the face, an evident crack being heard. While this man nursed his nose, she turned to the other man. His fist struck out quick, but she was quicker. I blinked almost as fast as she ducked, and retaliated. Her hand caught his own, and twisted it behind his back as she stood straight again. With a swift kick to the back of the knees he was on the ground, and, within a few more seconds, flat on his stomach in the dirt. Her eyes looked up at the tall brick wall looming over her. She looked near the bottom and froze. A small smile formed on her face as she picked up a loose brick. I could see her as she struck both men on the head, effectively knocking them unconscious. Sand and dirt went up in a cloud around her as she plopped down next to one of the men. Her hand reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wallet. ‘So she’s a thief?’ I thought. I shook my head. It couldn’t be. My thoughts were proven incorrect as she put her wallet back into the pocket, his I.D. in her hand. I watched as she did the same to the other man, taking his card of identity. Both cards were thrown into her bag as she stood once more, but now wobbly on her feet. I started walking to her again, and was only a few feet away, before she collapsed.
My hands shot out as I jumped forward. Her fragile frame slumped in my arms and her clouded eyes looked up at me. “It’s going to be okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to help you. Let me call 911. You were shot.” Her head shook slightly as her lips moved, and her angelic voice spoke softly.
“Don’t. Take me to my house. Police…bad…can’t…take away…” Her voice faded as she looked up at me. “Please,” she whispered. Heaving a sigh, I took the wallet she had in her hand. In it sat her own drivers license. I looked at it carefully, while still holding her in the other arm. Grace Marks. Age 17. 111 23rd street. My lips turned up. So she only lived a block away from me? My smile disappeared again as I looked down into her brown eyes once more. They pleaded for her, her mouth not having to move or speak a word. A large breath escaped my lips as I hoisted her into my arms, carrying her bridal style back to my car. Her small body lay across the back seat and I saw her smile before I shut the door. “Thank you.” Her voice mixed with the gust of air as I gently closed the door and walked over to the driver’s side. My fingers turned the key in the ignition after I slid into the seat. I didn’t worry about my seatbelt as I sped towards home. Emotions played across my features as I felt them. I swerved as I felt a breath on my neck. “Calm down and stop making faces sweetheart.” She giggled as I turned onto her street and into her driveway. I turned to see her sitting up, a smile on her face as she looked at me. My mouth fell open. “How-why-are you- why-” My mind couldn’t form a sentence. She rolled her eyes as her fingers closed around the door handle. “It’s called acting. I needed a ride home.” With those words she slipped out of the car, closely followed by me. I looked up at the mansion she lived in. I had always been curious as to who had lived in this house. It was grey in color, with black trim and panels. A huge window went from the top of the door to the high ceiling of the first floor. A chandelier hung inside, visible through the glass. Black crystals hung from the twists and swirls of the arms, candle-like lights shining dimly. “Are you going to come inside?” I looked back down to see Grace standing in a half open doorway. I nodded and followed her into the house. Her hand reached over to a slide on the wall. As she slid it to the top, the main foyer filled with light. I almost gasped.
