A/N – This is totally unrelated to anything Roswell-related, its actually
more of a short story that I wrote one night for an English assignment…
Anyway, please R&R and FLAME ME (well, give me constructive criticism)
Isabel Evans walked through the strangely deserted streets of Manhattan, hugging her woollen jacket closer to her slim body. It wasn't that cold, but Isabel felt the intense need to do something…to keep her hands busy.
She was trying to get to her apartment, which was 10 blocks away from Julliard Preforming Arts School, where she was a violin student, studying in her third year.
Usually she takes the shuttle bus home, but tonight she had to stay late, finishing her composition for the spring gala. It was after midnight when she had finally finished, and although the buses still ran, she felt like walking to clear her head.
It had started all right, but for the last 2 blocks, Isabel had sensed that someone was following her. At first she had ignored it, but soon it became increasingly clear that she wasn't alone.
Normally, she wouldn't have worried. But tonight…
There was something in the air, something forbidding that hung like a fluorescent pink neon sign flashing above her head.
As she rounded the corner she glanced back quickly.
No one was there.
No one. Literally.
Normally, the streets were buzzing with activity. New York wasn't called the City that never sleeps for nothing. But now the streets were deserted.
Isabel glanced at her watch. It wasn't even that late. 1:30 a.m. That was nothing.
She looked around her. All the shops were closed, and all the lights in the houses were off.
She was completely, and utterly alone.
At least she should be.
But Isabel wasn't stupid. She could hear the soft thumping behind her. Discreet, but very, very, real.
She stopped suddenly, bending down to tie her shoelace.
There it was.
Her stalker had stopped too, but a millisecond off. She heard the soft thump as he (she?) tried to muffle their mistake, but Isabel wasn't fooled.
There was definitely someone following her. And Isabel had no idea what to do.
Don't panic, she thought. Whatever happens, don't let him know that you're onto him.
With that in mind, she straightened up and continued walking steadily, fighting the urge to run. I'll never make it in time; I'm still five blocks away.
Biting her lip and trying desperately not to panic, she concentrated on listening to the steady rhythm of her own footsteps, and trying to catch out her opponent if he suddenly stepped out of beat.
If he starts running, I'll have no hope. There's no way I'll make it to my apartment in time.
Subtly, Isabel sped up, tightening her grip on her jacket, and her purse.
What is he after? Money? Its not like I have that much. Maybe I should just stop and give it to him…
Isabel's heart thudded almost painfully in her chest, and she fought to keep calm.
She bowed her head, and wrapped her arms around herself.
She was now four blocks away.
Breathe. Inhale…and exhale.
She sped up, hoping that her assailant wouldn't get suspicious. He couldn't possibly know where she lived, so if she just kept walking casually, and pretended not to notice him, she could run the last 50 metres or so and dash into her room.
3 blocks.
It was a miracle she wasn't getting run over. She didn't even bother to check for any cars. She strained her ears. Then again, there weren't any cars.
Once again she got that forbidding feeling, the feeling of de ja vu.
Something wasn't right, she could feel it in her bones. Even the air felt heavier tonight
As she approached the second block, Isabel discreetly swung her bag around, and hoped he wouldn't hear her as she rummaged inside, trying to find her keys.
1 Oh no. I couldn't have…
Stifling a groan in frustration, she fought back tears. Dammit. She had forgotten her keys at home. This wasn't a new thing…Isabel had a very short memory, unless it came to anything musical that is.
Most of the time, she just pressed the buzzer, and her flatmate, Maria would let her in.
But Maria wasn't here this weekend; she was in Miami at her grandfather's funeral.
2 What am I supposed to do now?
She was getting closer, and if she wasn't mistaken, he was catching up.
They were less than 100 yards away, but unless Isabel thought of something fast, she was a goner.
She dug her hands into her pockets, and came across an unexpected treasure.
My keys! Thank God…now I'll be able to get away safely.
She clasped her hands around them, and sought for the key to her door.
She sped up, breaking into a full run when she saw the familiar concrete buildings looming ahead of her.
She thought she heard him curse, and from then it was a race, a winner takes all dash.
She gasped as a stich appeared in he side. Isabel wasn't one accustomed to unnecessary exercise.
20 metres…
She felt as if she were being torn up inside.
10 metres…
She fumbled clumsily with the key, flying over the stairs like a madwoman.
Suddenly, out of the blue, she was knocked down, and fell to the ground. She landed with a slight 'oomph', the wind knocked out of her lungs.
This is it…this is the end. She thought, and she heard the deep thumping come closer. I'm going to die…the FBI are going to find my mutilated body in a dumpster somewhere…oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD…
Something wet and sticky spread across her cheek. It was licking her!
She turned around slowly, expecting the worse. What she saw instead, shocked her into stunned silence.
Standing directly above her, was the biggest Rottweiler she had ever seen, and it was presently tugging at her bag. She opened it, and watched in amazement as it pulled at her late-night shopping bag, containing a fresh lump of steak.
Isabel looked at it in an expression halfway between laughter and horror. As she watched it walk away she started laughing uncontrollably, her long, golden hair spilling over her shoulders.
Anyway, please R&R and FLAME ME (well, give me constructive criticism)
Isabel Evans walked through the strangely deserted streets of Manhattan, hugging her woollen jacket closer to her slim body. It wasn't that cold, but Isabel felt the intense need to do something…to keep her hands busy.
She was trying to get to her apartment, which was 10 blocks away from Julliard Preforming Arts School, where she was a violin student, studying in her third year.
Usually she takes the shuttle bus home, but tonight she had to stay late, finishing her composition for the spring gala. It was after midnight when she had finally finished, and although the buses still ran, she felt like walking to clear her head.
It had started all right, but for the last 2 blocks, Isabel had sensed that someone was following her. At first she had ignored it, but soon it became increasingly clear that she wasn't alone.
Normally, she wouldn't have worried. But tonight…
There was something in the air, something forbidding that hung like a fluorescent pink neon sign flashing above her head.
As she rounded the corner she glanced back quickly.
No one was there.
No one. Literally.
Normally, the streets were buzzing with activity. New York wasn't called the City that never sleeps for nothing. But now the streets were deserted.
Isabel glanced at her watch. It wasn't even that late. 1:30 a.m. That was nothing.
She looked around her. All the shops were closed, and all the lights in the houses were off.
She was completely, and utterly alone.
At least she should be.
But Isabel wasn't stupid. She could hear the soft thumping behind her. Discreet, but very, very, real.
She stopped suddenly, bending down to tie her shoelace.
There it was.
Her stalker had stopped too, but a millisecond off. She heard the soft thump as he (she?) tried to muffle their mistake, but Isabel wasn't fooled.
There was definitely someone following her. And Isabel had no idea what to do.
Don't panic, she thought. Whatever happens, don't let him know that you're onto him.
With that in mind, she straightened up and continued walking steadily, fighting the urge to run. I'll never make it in time; I'm still five blocks away.
Biting her lip and trying desperately not to panic, she concentrated on listening to the steady rhythm of her own footsteps, and trying to catch out her opponent if he suddenly stepped out of beat.
If he starts running, I'll have no hope. There's no way I'll make it to my apartment in time.
Subtly, Isabel sped up, tightening her grip on her jacket, and her purse.
What is he after? Money? Its not like I have that much. Maybe I should just stop and give it to him…
Isabel's heart thudded almost painfully in her chest, and she fought to keep calm.
She bowed her head, and wrapped her arms around herself.
She was now four blocks away.
Breathe. Inhale…and exhale.
She sped up, hoping that her assailant wouldn't get suspicious. He couldn't possibly know where she lived, so if she just kept walking casually, and pretended not to notice him, she could run the last 50 metres or so and dash into her room.
3 blocks.
It was a miracle she wasn't getting run over. She didn't even bother to check for any cars. She strained her ears. Then again, there weren't any cars.
Once again she got that forbidding feeling, the feeling of de ja vu.
Something wasn't right, she could feel it in her bones. Even the air felt heavier tonight
As she approached the second block, Isabel discreetly swung her bag around, and hoped he wouldn't hear her as she rummaged inside, trying to find her keys.
1 Oh no. I couldn't have…
Stifling a groan in frustration, she fought back tears. Dammit. She had forgotten her keys at home. This wasn't a new thing…Isabel had a very short memory, unless it came to anything musical that is.
Most of the time, she just pressed the buzzer, and her flatmate, Maria would let her in.
But Maria wasn't here this weekend; she was in Miami at her grandfather's funeral.
2 What am I supposed to do now?
She was getting closer, and if she wasn't mistaken, he was catching up.
They were less than 100 yards away, but unless Isabel thought of something fast, she was a goner.
She dug her hands into her pockets, and came across an unexpected treasure.
My keys! Thank God…now I'll be able to get away safely.
She clasped her hands around them, and sought for the key to her door.
She sped up, breaking into a full run when she saw the familiar concrete buildings looming ahead of her.
She thought she heard him curse, and from then it was a race, a winner takes all dash.
She gasped as a stich appeared in he side. Isabel wasn't one accustomed to unnecessary exercise.
20 metres…
She felt as if she were being torn up inside.
10 metres…
She fumbled clumsily with the key, flying over the stairs like a madwoman.
Suddenly, out of the blue, she was knocked down, and fell to the ground. She landed with a slight 'oomph', the wind knocked out of her lungs.
This is it…this is the end. She thought, and she heard the deep thumping come closer. I'm going to die…the FBI are going to find my mutilated body in a dumpster somewhere…oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD…
Something wet and sticky spread across her cheek. It was licking her!
She turned around slowly, expecting the worse. What she saw instead, shocked her into stunned silence.
Standing directly above her, was the biggest Rottweiler she had ever seen, and it was presently tugging at her bag. She opened it, and watched in amazement as it pulled at her late-night shopping bag, containing a fresh lump of steak.
Isabel looked at it in an expression halfway between laughter and horror. As she watched it walk away she started laughing uncontrollably, her long, golden hair spilling over her shoulders.