Saving Natalie

Ever since i was little the night was never my favorite time of day. I guess it was because of all the horror stories I've heard about such as people being abducted or being killed.

My mother was never a nice person. I remember this one time when I finally got the balls to yell back at my mother she beat me and locked me outside. I remember it like it was yesterday.

*Flashback*

My mom was drunk off her ass and throwing things about the livingroom.

"Natalie!" She shouted and then there came a loud crashing sound.

I came galloping down the stairs and saw the mess she made. The antique lamp my grandfather gave her was now scattered in peices on the floor.

"Mom, what did you do?" I tried holding back the tears.

My grandfather was the only person who ever got me and showed real concern and that was the last thing I could hold onto that was his.

"You peice of shit! You broke my fathers lamp!" She cried out before charging at me.

"N-No I didn't." I barely got the words out before my mother slammed me into the wall and knocked all the breath out of me.

"Don't you talk back to me!" She pulled my hair and slung me to the floor.

"But I didn't do it!" I shouted in disbalief.

She yanked on my hair and then started pounding into me. First it was just the stomach. I heard a few bones crack and I screamed out in pain.

"St-stop it!" I cried out trying to cover my ribs with my arms.

"DON'T EVER TALK BACK TO ME!" She then proceded to yank me up by my hair and drag me to the back door.

She unlocked it and threw me out on the porch.

"What are you doing?" I shouted at her retreating back.

"Taking the trash out." She said before slamming the door closed.

Thus began the longest night of my life. Every little noise I heard or shadow I saw I thought to be a person.

Trees scratching on wooden fences was thought to be someone trying to get in the back yard. I ended up getting no sleep that night.

*End flashback*

So you can see why I don't like the night. Your mind just likes to make you think someone is there when really there isn't and it doesn't help having an overreactive imagination.

I hurried my pace from a slow walk to a light Jog. I looked behind me and saw no one on the side walk.

I always hated working late. I was the last one to leave and had to lock up.

As I concentrated on my pace I heard a slight movement behind me. I jerked to a stop and looked behind me. Nothing.

'Stop overreacting.' I told myslef.

I started my pace again when I heard footsteps behind me. This time without turning around I just ran. I ran like my life depended on it.

I wish I would have been paying more attention because then I wouldn't have tripped on the sidewalk that was a little uneven.

"Oomph."

I landed on my hands that are now scraped up.

"Fuuuuck." I hissed as the pain came roaring over me in waves.

I stood back up and was dusting my legs off when I saw a pair of shoes behind me.

"Aww shit."

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