Brandy Pivar had her championship track game in a few weeks, so waking up at 5 am for a run around her neighborhood was part of her daily routine. This year I'm taking first place Brandy thought as she slipped on her shoes, which looked like they had been trampled on by a stampede of wild mustangs. She knew about the neighborhood watch, and in such a small suburban Florida town, the only thing Brandy had to look out for was the occasional gater or snake. She wasn't to concerned however, because she grew up in the area and knew how to deal with a sighting.
The temperature was unseasonably cold for an October morning. The usual sticky humid air was dry and crisp, it was the kind of weather they got up in New York around Fall. She knew this because she spent a few weeks every year at her grandmother's house near Lake Erie as a child. Brandy suddenly wished she had grabbed her sweater before leaving after she started her jog. She decided it would be best to shorten her run today as a precaution, without a sweater she could catch a cold and that would ruin her chances of winning first place.
Brandy sprinted alongside a vacant playground that by noon would be overflowing with children from the nearby Elementary School. She didn't mind the children; it was the playground she wasn't fond of. Her father used to take her to that playground every Saturday after he got home from work when she was growing up. But he's long gone now, ran away and remarried a floozy from Las Vegas. Shortly after the separation Brandy discontinued dorming and moved back in with her mother to help her deal with the pain.
As she stopped to take a rest she noticed her shoe was untied. She bent down to tie it and thought she heard something moving near the bushes.
"A cat maybe" she reasoned with her thoughts.
She laughed at the thought of herself being a little weary of the noise. She then took her jogging position and started back on her way. She made a short cut in her usual trail to get home earlier by crossing an old bridge that looked to be about as old as when the town was first settled. She passed it quickly and came upon a grove of trees on each side of the road. It was silent and lifelessly still, as most people were still asleep in their beds.
A rustling commotion came from the tree tops. It was loud enough for Brandy to stop and try to place what could have made the sound. When she failed to match the odd noise, she thought it would be best to alert the animal catcher that something might be on the loose.
Brandy began jogging again, her pace had picked up, but before she could establish composing herself while she was running, a jagged blunt force clashed with the side of her head. The sound of the blow rang in her right ear, the pain was instant and her vision blurred as her body clasped onto the road. She had recovered enough to scramble to her feet and try to flee from whatever just attacked her. She couldn't see clearly what attacked her, nor did she care enough to find out, a bear maybe she thought as a frantically started running away.
Suddenly she was jerked back to the ground, her body clasped on the road as if she was hit with a bolt of lightning. That's when the claw; large and uncouth, streamed across her left leg, nearly hitting the bone in her calf. A scream of agony reached the top of her lungs and echoed throughout the empty road. Brandy tried to crawl away from her attacker which still wasn't in clear view, trying not to move her wounded leg. She screamed for help as loud as her shaken voice could muster, but nobody came. oh my god, I'm being mauled by a bear. I'm gonna die, someone please help me! She thought before another blow hit her in the head, this one felt even harder than the first. Whatever it was that was attacking her, had her by the leg and was dragging her away. She tried in vain to dig her nails into the ground to stop it from carrying her away. The last thing she saw before she fell unconscious was the trail of blood she left behind while she was being dragged into the woods.