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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1872869-Enticement
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Tragedy · #1872869
At the Vic market. Story from two perspectives.
Enticement

The train doors slide open and I hastily jump from my seat and pass through the doors. I rush through the building and then abruptly stop. It was huge. Shouts, hushed murmurs, bartering and laughter fill my ears. A collage of bright colours and large words clog up my eyes, all begging for my attention. Finally, the legendary Vic Market, a must see for anyone visiting Australia.

I noticed her from the beginning. The way her hazel eyes were swimming with happiness, overflowing with joy. That whole train ride I was mesmerized. When I saw her move to leave the carriage that was when I knew, she moved with grace and fluidity, she had to be mine, whatever it took. That was when my unraveling began.

I begin my hunt around the market, talking to the locals and perusing what they had to offer. A man, one from the train, was also behind me. I could tell he wasn’t a local; he had that same excitement in his eyes as I had, obviously anticipating this moment just as much as me. I offer him a smile, and then return on my merry way.

I tailed her through the market, at first careful to never to avoid her gaze. I slowly gained in confidence, purposefully positioning myself within her view. Eventually, she noticed me, recognition glimmering in her eyes, and gave me a delicious smile. I was paralyzed; she turned away before I could return the smile, before I could warrant her trust.

The shimmering silver of the jewellry stand drew me in, like a moth to flame. Jewellry was an addiction that I was unable to shake. The blue bracelet, I couldn’t leave without it. It was exorbitant in price. I had to have it; the blue shimmered exactly the shade of the deep blue sea.

Billions of plans flooded my mind; I was unable to stop them. Gain her trust, I told myself, flirt with her, make her feel safe and then when the moment allows, pull her away from everyone else’s eyes. She will only be for me. I watch her, deciding that the best way to gain her trust was to ask for advice on something sensitive, thoughtful, like buying flowers for your mother. But this idea was quickly discarded when my vision clouded red. Another man, a handsome, rugged guy, was watching her, clearly going to make his move. Rage consumed me, my fingertips shaking. I moved to where she stood, torturously close, her heavenly scent filling my nose.

He approached me, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. His blue eyes glinted, with adventure maybe? Nevertheless I was intrigued. Leaving me without a chance to protest, he clipped the bracelet around my wrist and thanked the cashier. His voice was mellifluous, calming to my ears. He offered to buy me coffee, as though I had a choice. I was held captive by his charm, unable to refuse.

“That one,” I say, “the blue will bring out your eyes nicely.”

Startled, she spins around to face me, “you really think so?”

“I know so. Excuse me,” I say to the man behind the counter, “I would like to buy this bracelet please.”

“Certainly,” he replied, taking money from my hand and replacing it with the bracelet in one smooth motion.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said flirtatiously.

The exchange of our names made my body tingle with excitement. The knowledge of her name excited me so, even I knew I had an unhealthy obsession, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. I led her to my van, conversation flowing easily between us, but that wouldn’t last much longer. Not if all goes to plan.


We walked along the street, conversation easier between us than a knife through butter. I was enjoying myself, never desiring to leave. We passed multiple coffee shops, but I dismissed the thought beginning to weasel its way into my mind. I assumed he was aiming for a particular one. But we kept passing them; confusion began to surface in my consciousness, turning to anxiety with each coffee shop we passed.

“Wait, where are we going, I’ve seen like 20 coffee shops and we’ve walked straight past them all?”

“Just follow me.”

“Tell me where we’re going,” she says, distress becoming more evident in her voice.

“Shut up and follow me,” I say in the most demanding tone I can manage, losing all pretence of being a nice guy instantly. She looks deep into my eyes and horror washes across her perfect pale complexion. She begins to run but I lock her in a bear hug and refuse to allow her struggle. I take short steps towards the van and throw her in. Just before I close the doors I whisper three little words in her ear.


Horror washes over me, reaching every single bone in my body. I begin to struggle, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. My breathing accelerates. My panic grows. His arms are an unbreakable chain around me. No onlookers to witness my kidnapping. No-one to help. What was I to do? I’m thrown into the back of a battered old van. Air floods my lungs as I begin to breathe again. Just as I see the light between the doors slimming I hear three little words. “You’re mine now.”
© Copyright 2012 Mikaylee- Rae Johnson (starkid97 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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