You never really understood the appeal of dressing up, smearing layers of make-up on your face, or spending hours on your hair to get the perfect curls. So it came as no surprise that on the day of your sister's wedding there was nothing on your face but a little bit of mascara and an almost unnoticeable layer of lipstick. Your mom and sisters were, of course, dressed up for the occasion. They all had make-up caked on their face and their hair was twisted up into complicated braids. As always they'd tried to get you to do the same and when you refused, as always, it once again became a shouting match which you weren't even partaking in. After the wedding everyone moved to a little known pub down the street, owned by your new in-laws.
Just as you were about to enter one of your sisters closes the door in front of your face, shouting at you to dress up for the party or not to attend the party at all. For a second you just stand there, taking in the scratches in the wood and the discoloration where the old layer of paint was starting to shine through the blue colour it currently was. Then you turn around an move. You have no idea where you're going, all you know is that you have to get out of there and the only way to do that is to put one foot in front of the other. You are so focused on walking that you don't notice the van following you, or notice it driving past and stopping a few seconds later. You 'do' notice the arm suddenly around your middle and the one in front of your mouth, you have one moment to notice that you are right in front of the building that you live in before the chloroform takes away your sight. And a split second later it takes your conscience as well.
When you wake up you're leaning agains a rough stone wall. Disoriented you move your head, trying to find any clue as to where you are. Or how long you've been here. The sound of a door banging against the wall is the only warning that you are in danger before you are lifted up by rough, calloused hands. He slams you against against the wall, your head collides with the stone and stars explode before your eyes. For a moment everything is blissfully silent and you feel almost content, until the burning sensation in your chest takes over. Your eyes snap open, you have trouble focussing for a second but then the blurry scene in front of you becomes clear. The first thing you notice is his eyes, it's not the colour that grabs your attention but the emotion. The rage, the 'hate' in his icy blue eyes is almost breathtaking, at least it would've been if you were able to breathe. The thought of breathing forces your attention back to the pain in your chest, and the slowly darkening edges of the world around you. You try to speak but no sound comes forward, the words held back by his hands around your throat. Suddenly the pictures from the paper flash in front of your eyes, the words "Serial-Strangler Strikes Again" in big bold letters right above them. You take in the sight of him standing right in front of you while you kick your feet and scratch his hands. He doesn't look like a serial killer. He looks almost normal, unnoticeable actually, if it wasn't for his eyes that is. As the world starts to blur and blackness creeps up around you all you can focus on is him. It's like there is nothing there but you and your killer, there's no sound and it feels like nothing you do can touch him. Both you and the man in front of you are in a trance, you are lost in your terror and he is lost in the hate he seems to feel, when a voice suddenly penetrates the oppressive silence. "FBI! Let the woman down!"
The words are just hanging in the air, for a second nobody moves. Then you are suddenly free from the wall and able to breathe. You almost fall backwards, sagging against the person behind you. You would've actually if it wasn't for the knife pressing against your neck. The man behind you speakes, as do the agents in front of you but you can't hear a word they say. You are tired and it takes all your energy to stay upright, the feeling of the blade against yourskin is all you can focus on. An eternity passes before anything happens but when it does you can only wish it hadn't. The blade slides through your skin leaving a red line behind before it starts to bleed, you focus dimming with every drop that gushes from the wound. Suddenly there are faces above you, whispering for you to stay awake and pressing down butterfly kisses on your neck. You manage to keep your eyes open for another minute until it becomes to much and you give in to the darkness. The last thought you will ever have going through your head.
"I should've stayed in bed today"
