I'm gunna tell you a short story.
Imagine that you are a young girl walking through the massive park in New York. It’s late, eleven at night. The birds are quiet, but the streets are crowded with people and cars. But the noise is distant, as you are far away from any of it. It’s a calm night, the stars are shining and the moon casting shadows around you.
Mom sent you to go pick up some milk from the store, and you decided to take a quick shortcut through the park. Yeah sure, it’s long, but it cuts at least ten minutes off of your journey. The jingle of your change sounds from your pocket, slicing through the quiet night air. There’s no one around you. You’ve got nothing to worry about, not a care in sight.
But all of a sudden, you hear a patter of shoes, slapping down on the concrete. Glancing behind your shoulder, you see a night jogger, dressed in black. You move to the side of the wide pavement you are moving along, to let him pass by. The even beats get closer, and closer, and they are just about ready to pass you, when excrutiating pain explodes in the back of your head, and you fall forward, scraping your hands and knees on the cement. The milk container you were carrying explodes on impact with the ground, spraying everywhere. The trickle of blood down the back of your neck is warm, but same with the hand that wrenchs you up, pulling on your hair, hard. A scream rips through your body, starting small from your lungs, but building more power as it climbs through your throat and escapes your lips.
You catch his face. From his massive height, he has hard features. Blue eyes, freshly shaved face. Take a mental picture. He sees you hesitating before doing anything, and swipes his hand across your right eye. It stings, and throws your head back at a sickening speed.
The anger inside of you has finally caught on. You feel the heat of it, surging through your veins. Something inside of you snaps, and you push his hands off of your shoulders, taking a step back. He lunges at you, trying to get you in his grasp again. His plan backfires, when you throw your hand up with momentum and catch his nose in your path. It instantly starts gushing blood.
He wipes the lower half of his face with his sleeve, growling through his teeth. You click open a small pocketknife you carry with you, holding it behind your leg, just out of sight from your attacker.
You sniffle, and take a step back. You feel as though you were too close to him, and space out, giving you an extra second to prepare yourself as he closes in. He charges, his hands reach out in a bloodthirsty motion. He pulls on either side of your head, just as you drive your knife into the depths of his stomach.
Blood sputters from his mouth. He lets you go, and falls to the cold ground.
Stunned, you back away. You drop the knife, and turn, running away as fast as you can. The police would understand, right? Wasn’t it an act of defense? He attacked you, he was the villian. They would understand, wouldn’t they?
This, is what happened to me a few days ago. Of course, not giving away my current location, it didn’t actually happen in New York. I was minding my own business, and all of a sudden, a jogger came up behind me and attacked me. I struck him with my knife. He didn’t die. But, he is currently in the hospital under heavy security, and will be charged for assult. I am fine, and the police did understand, and I am just under some pshycology for the horrendous event.
Now, I know what you all feel like. ‘Ohmygosh, I feel so sorry for her!’. If you aren’t, then good for you, because I’m totally kidding. This didn’t actually happen. As you all calm down, I’ll explain what really happened.
I was going to school one morning, and I happened to be a longboarder. See, I have been longboarding for over a year now, but I only recently got my own longboard, so I’ve been riding it to school. Not even a block away from my house, I hit a stick and catupulted forward. I had moved over previously, as I was being furiously honked at by a truck behind me, so I was a mere couple of feet away from the parked cars. In mid-air, I realized that I was too close to the cars. I faceplanted straight into the back of a truck, fell onto the ground and scraped my hands and knees.
You know when you completely make a fool out of yourself, and you wish no one saw it? Well, that’s what I felt like right there. But, unfortunatly for me, this incident happened near a house with a moving truck parked in it’s drive-way. The driver had just removed himself from the vehicle…. to see me wipe out. I wanted to crawl under a house when he asked me ‘Are you alright?’ Well, judging from the blood smeared on my face and gravel indented into my skin, no, I wasn’t. But I gave him a ‘thumbs-up’ sign, just to make him go away.
That’s the real story. To those of your who are mad at me because I lied to you, I am truly sorry. Forvige me?
~Tabby.
Mom sent you to go pick up some milk from the store, and you decided to take a quick shortcut through the park. Yeah sure, it’s long, but it cuts at least ten minutes off of your journey. The jingle of your change sounds from your pocket, slicing through the quiet night air. There’s no one around you. You’ve got nothing to worry about, not a care in sight.
But all of a sudden, you hear a patter of shoes, slapping down on the concrete. Glancing behind your shoulder, you see a night jogger, dressed in black. You move to the side of the wide pavement you are moving along, to let him pass by. The even beats get closer, and closer, and they are just about ready to pass you, when excrutiating pain explodes in the back of your head, and you fall forward, scraping your hands and knees on the cement. The milk container you were carrying explodes on impact with the ground, spraying everywhere. The trickle of blood down the back of your neck is warm, but same with the hand that wrenchs you up, pulling on your hair, hard. A scream rips through your body, starting small from your lungs, but building more power as it climbs through your throat and escapes your lips.
You catch his face. From his massive height, he has hard features. Blue eyes, freshly shaved face. Take a mental picture. He sees you hesitating before doing anything, and swipes his hand across your right eye. It stings, and throws your head back at a sickening speed.
The anger inside of you has finally caught on. You feel the heat of it, surging through your veins. Something inside of you snaps, and you push his hands off of your shoulders, taking a step back. He lunges at you, trying to get you in his grasp again. His plan backfires, when you throw your hand up with momentum and catch his nose in your path. It instantly starts gushing blood.
He wipes the lower half of his face with his sleeve, growling through his teeth. You click open a small pocketknife you carry with you, holding it behind your leg, just out of sight from your attacker.
You sniffle, and take a step back. You feel as though you were too close to him, and space out, giving you an extra second to prepare yourself as he closes in. He charges, his hands reach out in a bloodthirsty motion. He pulls on either side of your head, just as you drive your knife into the depths of his stomach.
Blood sputters from his mouth. He lets you go, and falls to the cold ground.
Stunned, you back away. You drop the knife, and turn, running away as fast as you can. The police would understand, right? Wasn’t it an act of defense? He attacked you, he was the villian. They would understand, wouldn’t they?
This, is what happened to me a few days ago. Of course, not giving away my current location, it didn’t actually happen in New York. I was minding my own business, and all of a sudden, a jogger came up behind me and attacked me. I struck him with my knife. He didn’t die. But, he is currently in the hospital under heavy security, and will be charged for assult. I am fine, and the police did understand, and I am just under some pshycology for the horrendous event.
Now, I know what you all feel like. ‘Ohmygosh, I feel so sorry for her!’. If you aren’t, then good for you, because I’m totally kidding. This didn’t actually happen. As you all calm down, I’ll explain what really happened.
I was going to school one morning, and I happened to be a longboarder. See, I have been longboarding for over a year now, but I only recently got my own longboard, so I’ve been riding it to school. Not even a block away from my house, I hit a stick and catupulted forward. I had moved over previously, as I was being furiously honked at by a truck behind me, so I was a mere couple of feet away from the parked cars. In mid-air, I realized that I was too close to the cars. I faceplanted straight into the back of a truck, fell onto the ground and scraped my hands and knees.
You know when you completely make a fool out of yourself, and you wish no one saw it? Well, that’s what I felt like right there. But, unfortunatly for me, this incident happened near a house with a moving truck parked in it’s drive-way. The driver had just removed himself from the vehicle…. to see me wipe out. I wanted to crawl under a house when he asked me ‘Are you alright?’ Well, judging from the blood smeared on my face and gravel indented into my skin, no, I wasn’t. But I gave him a ‘thumbs-up’ sign, just to make him go away.
That’s the real story. To those of your who are mad at me because I lied to you, I am truly sorry. Forvige me?
~Tabby.
