by Sydney Hubbard, age 12, Munford Middle School
Oct 29, 2012 | 537 views |  0 comments | 4 4 recommendations | email to a friend | print
He was chasing me. Him. The one I had always dreamed about. His, short, black hair was messy and in tangles from running after me, and he had on a thin, black mask. I couldn’t help but think it was over. I knew he was going to kill me. But, my question was who was he, and why me?

I didn’t have much with me, all I had was a note my dad gave me this morning, my moms locket she gave me before she died, and a pocket knife my granddad gave me, that was passed down from my ancestors. The man caught up to me, and pinned me to the ground. He was hitting me, and scratching me, and wouldn’t stop. I remembered the advice my dad gave me. He told me that in a situation like this, just scream, and he’d come to help me. I screamed forever, and he never came. I wonder where he was. He promised he would come, and he didn’t. I grabbed the old pocket knife out of my pocket and as soon as I did, he blocked my arm from stabbing him. I gave up after a while. He was too strong, and I couldn’t beat him. I just couldn’t.

My mom’s silver, heart shaped locket fell out of my pocket, and it gleamed from the moonlight. The man stopped beating me, and he picked up the locket. He opened it and looked mad. “Who is this?” he asked.

“Ummm, it’s my mom. She gave me that locket before she died.” I said in a shy voice. The man got madder, threw the locket into the thick, black woods, and continued beating me. I screamed some more to make sure dad wouldn’t come. He didn’t. I tried not to cry. I couldn’t believe he threw my locket into the woods, never to be seen again.

He beat me, and beat me, and beat me. And, when he finally stopped, I was tired, and hurting, so I just fell asleep. When I woke up, I was in a dark, empty room. I heard footsteps, and the man walked in. He turned the light on, and he took off his mask for me to find out who was torturing me. No wonder my dad didn’t come, it was him the whole time.

I pulled out the note he gave me, and started reading it.

“I hope you have a good morning, cause your not going to have a good afternoon.

P.S- You’ll get to see your mom very soon.”

He pulled out his knife, and started walking towards me; and that’s when I started running.
Comments must be made through Facebook
No personal attacks
No name-calling
No offensive language
Comments must stay on topic
No infringement of copyrighted material

Friends to Follow

Most Recommended

Run by Sydney Hubbard, age 12, Munford Middle School

Today's Events

event calendar

post a new event

Friday, April 18, 2014