It was a late autumn evening when this happened. I was walking in the park, which was the short-cut home. I loved how the park looked at night and would purposely get detention to have a reason to be there. I was just about to turn out of the park and onto the road when something rammed into my side. I fell to the ground, both my side and my head bursting into a pain. As I looked around, something moved beside me.
I almost screamed, but something stopped me. The thing beside me was holding its hand to my mouth. I clawed at it, hoping to get free. My struggles were worthless, though, because the owner of the hand refused to budge.
"Not a sound." It hissed. It sounded like a man, which made my fear grow.
I began to struggle, wanting to get away.
"Stay still!" The man whispered harshly. "What do you think will happen if we're caught?"
"Mmmh?" I mumbled into his hand.
He sighed as he seemed to look around. "Promise not to scream?" He asked.
I nodded my head, hoping that he would let me go if I did.
"Good." He let go of my mouth, but moved his hand to my arm.
"What are you doing? Let go of me!"
"Shut up! You're not going anywhere." He tightened his grip as if to prove his point.
I tried to stand up, but winced as pain shot up my left leg. I sat back down and examined my leg. "Well, shit." I murmered as I looked my leg over. It was covered in blood and had glass sticking out of the fabric of my jeans.
"What was that?" The man asked.
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with." I mumbled as I postioned my leg so I could see the glass fragment better.
It was part of a beer bottle some bastard left lying there. I touched the glass and had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. It was lose and moved easily, which would make it easy getting out, but it would hurt.
I took a breath and was about to start when the man jerked me up to my feet.
"What the hell was that for?" I asked, making the pain of being on my leg sound like anger.
"We're leaving."
"Excuse me?"
"You are coming with me." He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"No I'm not. I'm going home."
"Then I'm going with you."
"No you are not. You can go somewhere else." I started to walk away, feeling the glass go deeper into my leg. I winced, hoping I could make it home.
"Why are you limping?" The man asked.
"Thanks to a certain somebody, I fell and hurt my leg." I snapped.
"Then let me help you." He started to follow me.
"No. You're just looking for an excuse to come to my house."
"Well, there's that, but I really am concerned. You got hurt becase of me and I'm sure your parents will be worried if you go home alone hurt."
I stopped, thinking about what he said. It had been awhile since I heard someone say anything about my parents to me. They had died a few years back in a plane crash. An engine failure, they said. Everyone on that plane had practically survived, except my parents and my older brother, who were on their way back from visiting my mother's sister in France. I had stayed behind due to having exams the week after they left.
