To say I am frightened is an understatement. Here I am, steps away from a crime scene. I was a witness to murder, and in the highest risk of getting murdered myself.
And I swear to god I have never been so scared. I felt like my heart dropped to the floor every time the man stabbed the knife into the now dead body. I was too distracted to even notice that my phone was gone.
"Oh my god," I whispered to myself, panic washing over my body. Now there was no chance of me getting to call the police, or how I was going to get home. Hell, I didn't even know if I was going to survive by the end of the day.
Curse myself for even considering to walk through this alley.
I was currently sitting behind a Honda Civic, I'm assuming, that was painted in grey... silver, I don't know. I don't even know where the heck I am, nor do I know when I'm leaving. I didn't even notice that the criminal was gone by now, carelessly leaving the bloody body on the cold floor.
"Well, well, well... What do we have here?" I jumped in surprise, almost screaming, even though I wasn't supposed to be. One thing I've learned when it came to situations like these was to never, ever anger the culprit. He was possibly crazy, psychotic even, so I tried my best to stay calm. Except, that wasn't remotely possible.
"Look at me," the man spat. His fingers roughly held my chin, turning my head to face him. I almost slap his hand away, but I thankfully don't.
My eyes were looking towards his direction but my mind was else where. I didn't even bother wondering how he looked like, even though I should be. If I were to somehow run away from this man, then I would have to report it - and to report it, I need to know how he looked like.
God knows he might be a serial killer. And if he was, then he might kill me too. As much as I'd hate to admit it, I didn't want to die just yet. It just occurred to me how many times I have wished death upon myself, and when I finally get the chance to have my wish granted, I decline the offer. I have never felt so selfish.
"What are you doing here?" The man asks me, crouching down so now we were facing each other. I hesitantly try to move back, but the man's grip on my arm was too steady.
"I-I was just walking back from school," I gulp. I feel tears brimming my eyes as he smirks. It was as if my fear towards him was amusing to him.
"Guess today is your lucky day..." He mumbles, swirling a strand of my hair as I watch him from the corner of my eye. My whole body's shaking in fear and I just have this sudden urge to scream help.
"Sorry darling, you're coming with me." He harshly grabs me by my arm, and I wince in pain. I've never been so horrified.
"Please, I'll do anything," I sob onto the man's arm, begging him to let me go as he drags me across the street towards his car.
"There's nothing you can do," the man laughs, and I feel a shiver running through my body. His laugh was terrifying, it was no where to sincere but more like crazed. He was psychopathic.
"Please," My voice was full of plea, tears streaming down my face. By now, I knew I had no chance of escaping. "If you have a decent bone in your body, please let me go."
"Why would I let you go?" He bitterly says, throwing me into the back seat of his car.
"Because I haven't done anything to you." I respond, my voice surprisingly full of confidence. I knew I was scared, but I had to stop showing it. I had to let him know that he didn't fear me since it apparently was an enjoyable thing for him to see.
"You fucking talk to me like that again, I'll fucking kill you." The man slams the door with all the force in the world, spitting on to the ground and clapping off all the blood. I cringe, knowing some of that blood was wiped off on my shirt and arm. I knew there was no way he was going to let me go. He was a murderer for god's sake. I shouldn't have expected so much.
Best case scenario, he wouldn't hurt me at all.
Worst? I don't think there could be anything worse than this.
