A horrible pain behind my eyes. I could feel the world flipping beneath me, my eyes unseeing. Eventually the blackness of my vision unclouded and I could see the dark night sky. I was still on the floor. Still in the junction of the road. A dark figure loomed above me now, something sharp and shiny in his startlingly white hand. He knelt over me, and a sharp pressing pain was felt in my neck.
"You little bitch you…" his voice trailed into unintelligible mumbling of curses. He pulled the knife up towards my face.
"You were so interesting… pretty… fun…you think you could run and hide?" Insane laughter, "Well you're wrong. You asked if I was going to kill you, and now I am. But first…" the blade crept into the corner of my mouth, "I'm gonna make you beautiful…"
Horrendous pain in my mouth, all along my jaw. Rusty and salty blood filled my cheeks. I kicked out at him but moving made it worse. He laughed crazily as I twisted, his cruel hand harshly gripping the back of my head, lifting me up so he could get a better angle. The whole world span and I felt my stomach churn. I messily threw up all over him. He jumped up in alarm, ripping the knife from my mouth. I turned over, intent on getting away. A distant rumbling could be heard. A car was coming. No not a car. Bigger. A whole fucking truck.
I tried to scramble to my feet but I was still dizzy from the blow to the head. I needed to be sick again, and the blood was pooling down my neck, running down into my nightie. My face felt hot as the wounds burned. I found myself scrabbling across the road, listening to him yell and curse, trying to wipe vomit off his hoodie. I just managed to get to the opposite verge, when the truck came careering round the corner. At that moment, Jeff seized his knife and in blind fury ran across the road. I covered my head, waiting for the splatter of the maniac being hit and strewn across the road. The truck rumbled past, so loud it made my ears ring. I looked up as it screeched to a halt, its tyres sending up a cloud of burned rubber.
Where was Jeff?
His knife lay in the middle of the road. Blood was everywhere. But his body was nowhere to be seen. Had he been hit, or had he jumped out of the way? Was that his blood, or mine?
A guy was running towards me. The driver of the truck. His voice was unintelligible. I covered my ears. His babbles sounded too much like Jeff's. He had his phone out, frantically pushing buttons, using his coat to stop the bleeding at the corners of my mouth. I sat, stony and shocked, unable to move, only vaguely aware of his annoying questions and flashing blue lights pulling up. Hardly aware at all of the fingers that gripped my arms and eased me onto a stretcher. I had gone completely numb. Was this shock?
The hospital passed in a blur, as did all the names and faces of the nurses and doctors. I didn't care who they were. What I was more worried about was Jeff. Was he even still alive? Why was no-one checking?
It was when the police came in to question me that I finally got some feeling back. They asked about the past few days. I told them all I could remember. They nodded and looked concerned.
"Did you find him?" I sat up too quick in my haste for answers, the world swirly.
"Who?"
"Jeff!"
The two cops looked at each other, then back at me, concern etched into their faces.
"No other body was found,"