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Monday
May 28, 2012
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  >> Static Item >> Non-fiction >> Emotional >> ID #1355988  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Waiting
Based on actual events, though it didn't happen to me.
Rated:
13+
by
This item requires reviews with ratings.
It happened to me; that’s the hardest part to understand.  I can’t seem to get my head wrapped around the idea.  It happens all the time, sure, but to other people – not to me.  I’m a good person, or at least I’m not bad.  I can’t figure out what I did to deserve what happened.

Just the other night I was walking out of work – just like I’ve done a million times before, talking to my boyfriend, venting about my day, school, work, or just whatever.  It was just like any other night; there was no ominous score in the background or the glint of someone’s eyes peering out of the darkness at me – just my boyfriend on the phone and my parked car waiting for me to take it home.

But someone else was there, too, waiting, just waiting for me so I could take him for a ride.  Suddenly I felt cool metal against my temple and heard a rough voice whisper into my ear, “Don’t make a sound.  Just get in the car and drive.”

When I close my eyes, even for a split second, I can still feel the heat of his breath on my neck from that first moment when he grabbed me.  I can still feel my heart going a hundred miles an hour, my brain going even faster just trying to figure out how the hell I’d gotten in this situation.  Just for a second I’m transported back into that night.

And then I open my eyes and realize I’m not there anymore; I’m in my dorm.  I’m alone; my roommate went out for the night.  I envy her, in a way.  Ever since…I don’t like going out at night, even with friends.  It’s not rational, but I just keep thinking about how he told me he’d kill me if I told anyone.  Well, I told someone.  I told a lot of someones.  So now I’m just waiting:  waiting for him to be found, waiting for him to find me…waiting for an absolution, whatever that might be.






*Author's Note:  This happened to a girl in my Writing 100 class and this was my way of trying to handle what happened to her:  I wrote about it.  She was fine physically, but she lost a couple hundred dollars and her sense of security.  I pray that she is on the road towards healing psychologically.
© Copyright 2007 aca wishes for more time (UN: acappella at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
aca wishes for more time has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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