That

Status: edited

****

I'm staring at myself in the mirror.

From anybody else, I look normal.

But I don't think the same.
I see long, wavy, dirty blonde hair, captivating green eyes, faded freckles, a slim figure, and a tall frame. The figure staring back at me is wearing gym clothes; a blue sports bra and black bike pants, sport shoes on their feet and boxing gloves on their hands; the same as me. But what catches my eye is... That.

My anger builds up.

I scrunch my hands up - as much as I can in the gloves - and turn to the punching bag. It's all coming back.

My arm is tugged back by someone. I turn around and there's this hot guy staring at me with a look in his eyes I knew too well. Passion and lust.

Ugh
Punch.

He doesn't talk to me, he just licks his big, red lips, and runs his warm, soft hand up and down my arm soothingly and slowly. I smile. He smiles back.

I'm stupid
Punch. Punch.

We share a moment, and I feel like I know where this would be going, so I told my friends to continue on without me.

Slut.

Punch.

I go to open my mouth, but catch a glimpse of something moving behind him. Looking behind him I see tall and buff figures slowly lurking towards him. His grip tightens on my arm.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

I turn back to mystery guy. His facial expression has changed. He doesn't look at me with passion and lust anymore. He is looking at me with a sly smirk and his eyes are racking my body up and down with hunger, like I'm about to be eaten alive. I regret wearing the skimpy dress that leaves little to imagination now.

Stupid stupid stupid
Punch. Punch. Punch.

The shadows that were lurking behind are now face to face with me. There are 3 of them total. They're all walking towards me with an evil look on their faces.

Punch. Punch.

I'm cornered

Punch.

The man that had grabbed me at first, was now right up against me with a knife in his hand.

He still hasn't said anything.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

He can tell I'm scared. My breathing is heavy and in pants, my skin is clammy and I'm sure my facial expression shows it. But I try to hide it, try to stay strong.

He runs the knife slowly down my cheek, across my neck, and down my arm.

I can't help but let a tear slip from my eye at this.
Punch. Punch. Punch.

He runs it back up my body and moves some hair from beside my eye with the knife. I shiver in disgust, but he takes it another way.

I knee him in nuts.

Why? Cause I'm stupid.
Punch. Punch. Punch.

The knife falls out of his hand, and scrapes under my eye as it does so. The man leads forward but stumbles backwards as he holds his jewels.

I run.

Bad idea.
Punch.

Not looking where I'm going, an constantly looking back at the men that are chasing me, I run into a wall.