𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧

The route to school was familiar, a blur of sidewalks and crosswalks. I cut through an alleyway- a shortcut I'd taken countless times before, despite the uneasy vibe it gave me. I've seen too much in alleyways to feel completely at ease, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

At first, it was fine. I hurdled my bag over the wire fence that bisected the alley and started climbing. But then it hit me- that subtle hum at the back of my skull. My spider-sense.

It started as a whisper, a soft ring of caution. But in seconds, it swelled into a deafening alarm. My hand gripped the top of the fence, my neck craning to glimpse whatever was behind me. Then, before I could process the danger, I felt it-a sharp, familiar sting.

A taser.

Pain shot through me, and my muscles locked as if every nerve was set ablaze. My thoughts scattered, but one thing remained clear: I freakin hate tasers.

My body went limp, falling gracelessly to the cold, unforgiving concrete. The world around me dissolved into blackness, the faint echo of footsteps chasing me into unconsciousness.