A/N- Eeek, that was depressing. I can't believe i just wrote that. This isn't how i usually write but i thought i should change it up a bit. I actually had to write this for school but i added some stuff and im running late so sorry if some of this dosn't get edited.
I waited silently, not daring to move, not even to breathe. I crouched behind the door, curling myself into the smallest shape possible, hoping I would not be found. Outside the rusting garage door was the cereal robber that had been stalking our town for weeks now. Every step he took sounded like thunder in my sensitive ears. His heavy breath echoed around my head; torturing me with the fact that there was no escaping his unruly wraith. I herd the rumble of a police cruiser as it passed. The robber's shadow ducked behind our faded recycle bin. He stayed in his inhumanly possible stance, awaiting the return of the cruiser. It wouldn't return till later that night, after it was too late.
And to my utter dismay my pocket (a cell phone) began to vibrate. The shock paralyzed me. It never occurred to my thick scull to turn my phone off. It was to late now, the robber (I had decided to call him Jim) had heard. Just like a dog perking up its ears, his head whipped around, in my general direction. A defiant pool of light skipped across Jim's chin and lips. A wicked smile played at the corners of his mouth. He knew that someone else was in the house.
He gracefully stood up and in the same motion bounded in through the side entrance. Unfortunately our house's side entrance is in the garage. Jim walked around my father's tool shelves. He weaved through his car stuff and knocked over the glossy motorcycle my father had gotten for a birthday present. He was on a mission to find me. Jim walked like he knew exactly where I was. He had an uncanny sense of my position.
I hoped, for my sake, that he would look over my hiding spot and carry on with his steeling, murderous life. But if for some reason god decides that he wants him to find me, I had a plan. There was an old Swiss army pocket knife only a few feet away. But if I reached for it the robber would see my movement. I decided that I would weight until the threat was immanent to go for the knife.
Knowing that I was well covered with a thick blanket of shade, I willingly let out the minute breath I had been holding. Jim's all-knowing eyes pierced through the heavy blackness of the garage. The bright cat-eyes lay to rest lazily above my head. In a rustic, gravely voice, that fit his demeanor he said,
"Aye. So it's been a chickie that's deceiving me." I whimpered as he saw my one and only weapon. The knife.
"Don't do it chickie, you'll only get hurt." He warned unlike his first upbeat comment. My stupidity once again prevailed. I dove for the knife, sending a jolt through my stiff joints. He saw my advance and acted on it. He snatched up the knife and before I had any way of getting it. I got up and ran head long to the door but Jim; well he was better than me. He swiveled and caught me by my sleeve. He swiped at me, leaving a large hole in my side. The worm licquid spilled over my shirt onto my jeens and onto the floor.
I am sorry to say this is where my story ends my friends; with the warmth and blackness of my death Jim was caught. He was captured a week later after kill another child named Dalton who lived on the other side of town. He was only eight. I on the other hand was thirteen and full of life. My name was Jamie. I had a younger sister, two loving parents, and a jumpy springer spainal. I had my very own story book life and that ugly man endded it.
Good people do die young.
Ummmm, i know that five of you read this but were just to lazy to review. I thought highly of you untill you did this to me. I NEED FEEDBACK. i don't know how i did unless you tell me.
