This is called Running.
Gasping for breath, her chest heaving with every stride, a
young girl looks for an escape route. Her brown hair streaked with maroon
swishing back and forth as she dashes through the halls of Penn Station in New
York City. A man twice her age tried to charm her on the train ride from
Boston. She first ignored him but he kept talking to her so she finally gave in
and attempted to make small talk with him. The conversation abruptly ended when
he asked for her phone number. She gently told him that he was too old for her.
That’s when the man’s demeanor changed altogether. Instead of just what seemed
like a bored old man looking for some conversation, it turned into a man on a
mission for a mistress. He had confided in her that he had left his wife of
fifteen years a couple months ago. He had finally got a job in New York and was
moving there hence the reason he was on the train. When she told him she wasn’t
interested he grabbed her arm with such force she could feel his fingers touching
her radius bone. She wanted to scream but was too scared. The man’s eyes had
become fierce and dark almost like a wolf. The girl honestly didn’t know what
to do.
I wish I had mace
But she didn’t. All she could do was pray.
Now she was running for her life. The halls of Penn Station
were dim and empty. It was almost midnight when the train had finally rumbled
into the station. There was no one to help her; no one to save her from this
mad man. She could hear him charging through the halls behind her. She looked
back as she turned yet another corner in the maze and saw nothing. She knew she
wasn’t safe until she got home. It had been so long since she was in Penn
Station she couldn’t remember how to get to the street.
Of course I had to
tell my parents that I can get myself home
So there was no one to pick her up. No one would be waiting
for her in Penn Station. She was on her own.
Good thing I’m wearing
my sneakers
About a minute after she thought that statement she tripped
down the stairs and landed with a thud right on her behind. She stifled
whimper. Quickly she tied her sneakers and wiped her tear stained face. Her arm
was a still a bit red from when the man grabbed her arm. She could still feel
the burn on her forehead from when he hit her. Her roots were also screaming at
her from when he yanked on her hair. Gathering her duffel bag and purse she set
off running again. She wished with all her might that a train conductor or an
office employee were still around. Again she looked back. Now she couldn’t even
hear him. She slowed down to a fast trot still on edge still looking for the
streets of New York so she could disappear from this awful nightmare. She
sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
All of a sudden she heard a loud yell. It was the man he had
found her again. This time his eyes were round, as big as half dollars. Sweat
was dripping down causing sweat patches on his polo shirt. He reminded her of
an angry bull. Very angry. She hastily turned on her heel and sprinted toward
the nearest door.
I have to get out of
here!
It ran into it but it
was locked. Panicked she tried the next door and the next. None would open.
Finally the last door opened but instead of the street it leads to stairs
leading upward. She took them two, three at a time. As soon as she got to the
next floor she heard the doors downstairs slam open hitting the wall with a
crash. She continues to run through more hallways and comes to a lobby area
with seats.
Casey!
She turns startled. There stands her best friend, Tyrell. He
smiles at her but freezes when he realizes her state.
“What in the world?”
They hear a crash from down the hallway and the girl runs
toward Tyrell pulling him down to the floor behind the seats. She covers his
mouth with her hand.
“Shhhh!”
They listen in silence. Then the man comes running into the
room. He doesn’t even stop but continues to run through another set of doors
out. Then silence again. After counting to fifty the couple stands up slowly.
Finally, Casey breathes a sigh of relief. She turns and gives Tyrell a huge
bear hug and hangs on tight.
“Thank you!”
Tyrell smiles and then asks, “So who was that guy?”
“Can I tell you in the car? I need to get home, now!”
Casey’s breathing slowly goes back to normal. Her face turning
back to its original color as relaxes.
“No problem”
He picks up her duffel bag, puts an arm around her and they
head out.
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