I edited some parts of it, thank you for all the reviews I received!

Lizzie's POV

Dark clouds are hovering overhead, and droplets of rain are already colouring the ground beneath me. Strange shadows are already beginning to form around me. I am scared. My heart is beating so rapidly that I could easily have a heart attack next. I am running as fast as I could, trying to outrun the shadows, hoping to leave it behind in a cloud of dust, like what happens in comics. Except that this is real life, not a drawn picture story, and that my life was at stake.

From past experiences, I know that the shadows would increase when it rains, and that it goes away when I enter an enclosed space like a car, with all doors and windows closed. However, buildings don't work, probably because they are too large. They will appear anytime and anywhere. At home, I would hide in my closet, which is big enough for me to stand in it. Once I dared to peek outside, I cracked open the door a few centimetres and the shadows entered. I remembered screaming. They attacked my face, leaving horrible bruises and cuts. I ran out of the closet and they followed me. When I saw that there weren't any in the closet anymore, I immediately ran in. I made sure the door was tightly shut and the magnets at the top of the doors made sure of that. Hot, salty tears were streaming down my face and stung my cuts. I sat in the closet, until I sensed that they were gone, which was the following morning.

By now, the rain is falling in sheets and I am thoroughly soaked. I am afraid. Afraid by the reality of this happening to me, afraid that I might die tonight. My feet is aching and my breath is coming in hitches. I know I couldn't go on anymore, even the fastest runners have their limits. My feet slow down, until I am nearly jogging. The shadows tear at me. I count to ten, took a deep breath and run. I never ran so fast before: so fast that I felt that I could outrun the shadows.

Perhaps it was the optimism, or just plain old luck: I see a taxi cruising along the road. Without thinking, I throw myself in front of it. I hear tires screeching before running towards the car doors. I throw myself into the backseat, slamming the door. The shadows are hovering around the car, trying to find a way in. I want to scream at the driver to shut the windows if they are open, but my voice wouldn't let me. My lungs feel painful when I try to take a deep breath and my feet are killing me. I remove my sandals and lean back. I count the seconds off in my mind before I speak to the driver. I rattle off my address.

Suddenly, I hear a voice to my right. A very masculine one, to be precise. I jolt in surprise. There's someone beside me? "Miss? I've been keeping quiet about this, but if you start rattling orders to my driver, that is just unacceptable." What the hell?

I calm myself before I slowly turned to him. "Your driver? Oh, please, the taxi driver does not belong to you. It's a taxi, for God's sake." I roll my eyes, my earlier close-to-death experience quite forgotten. I tap the driver on his shoulder, "You don't belong to him, do you?" The driver guffaw and say, "Nice one, I don't!" I smile back sweetly and shoot the guy beside me a dirty look.

"But the fact that you came into the taxi I was in doesn't change."

I keep a straight face and retort, "Would you believe me if I said I just had a close brush with a rapist?" I can't describe my satisfaction when I see the look on his face. I continue, deciding that a little exagerating won't matter, "He was totally distracted, I would say, when he saw me in my naked glory. See my disheveled clothes? He was ripping them off." I turn my head towards the window, fighting back a laugh. I can't believe he fell for it! Well, some guys are just too gullible. But seriously, that's gullible at its max.

I turn towards the driver. "Mister, can you please fetch this guy over here to wherever he was going before fetching me home?" The taxi driver smile and said, "I am planning to do so anyway. First come, first served, am I right?" I smile in return, agreeing. Then he give me an appraising look through the front mirror and mouthed, "A rapist, eh?" I just give him a wink.

"Hey, where are you going?" the gullible cum idiot bark. Literally. I just roll my eyes and ignore him. Manners, manners, where are you?

I feel a tap on my shoulder. Okay, he gets brownie points for insistency. I turn to my right. Looking straight into his eyes, I barked loudly, "What?" Wow, I suddenly realise, he have nice eyes. They are a dark, brooding blue with flecks of purple, so beautiful that they almost seem fictional.

I only realised I have been staring when I feel something being pushed into my hands. Heat rush to my face, and I immediately look down. Crap, did he noticed? Just how embarassing can that be? I cringe inwardly before noticing a mobile phone stuffed between my fingers. I stare blankly at it. Um, why on earth am I holding a phone?

"Your number," the annoying freak drawled. I want to scream, how the hell was I supposed to know! Is this how you ask a girl's number? I bet my beloved chocolate chip cookies that his love life is literally non-existent. Well, he sure as hell isn't getting my oh, so precious, number. I type a memorized series of numbers, hitting the keys so hard that I am surprised he didn't ask me to leave his poor phone alone. I am certain he thought I was eager to give him my number. Dream on, Mr. Charming. Oh, did I mention that I gave him the number of a deranged woman that lives right next door? How I got her number, you say? Well, one day, sometime around last year, I received a call on my mobile phone. I didn't recognize the number and I answered. Guess what I heard? A loud wailing, shrieking voice filled my eardrums and I totally freaked out. I immediately ended the call, of course.

The person, whoever it was, called at least twenty times a day for a whole week! No doubt I had her number memorized. Later, I found out from my mum that our new neighbour had a tendency of calling her neighbours (I think she gets the numbers through Yellow Pages) and screaming into the phone. I wish Mr. Charming good luck.

I hit 'save' without entering my name and pass him the phone, giving him a sweet smile. He give me a strange look. I lift an eyebrow, I wonder if I have something on my face?

It is exactly two minutes and thirty-five seconds later when the taxi roll to a stop. I know because I have been staring at the face of my watch, bored, but there is really nothing better to do. I see him getting down from the taxi, walking towards the grand doors of a building, an apartment, I later notice. He must be one of those rich people who looks down on everything and everyone considered middle-class that dared to show face before him. I scoff. Then why is he sitting a taxi? Probably because his chauffeur called in sick.

The taxi begin moving again and I lean back. Talking about sick, I feel rather sick myself. I could feel a headache coming on, and as if to prove it, I sneeze violently. I hear the driver make a pitying noise at the back of his throat and he offer me a pill. I am about to accept the pill from his outstretched hand, when he suddenly draw back and peer at me as though seeing me for the first time. I shoot him a puzzled look. He suddenly says, "Wait, aren't you Elizabeth Bennet?" Oh, he can recognise me. I can only nod before another sneeze assaulted me. "Oh! Sorry, sorry," he says, seeming to have realised that I am still waiting for the pill and hand me it. I see that it is Tylenol, making sure that it is still in its metal coating, undisturbed. Well, you can never be too careful. I swallow the pill with some water before thanking the driver. "No problem, I always have a strip handy," he replies, waving a hand dismissively. About twenty minutes later, I arrive home. Thank God it isn't raining anymore.