Bull’s Eye
Stressed Sally
2/2/11
Period 3
Bulls Eye
On one dark and drab spring evening as dusk approached, I decided to take a short cut home. Crossing the barren and filthy streets in my cheap thrift store sneakers I had to fight my way through an obstacle course, dodging canine feces, foul sewers, and other forgotten begrimed items. Upon evading yet another anonymous item- I heard it. My ears pricked at the peculiar thud of a pair of heavy boots stepping into a polluted puddle. At first I thought nothing of it, but they grew closer.
A chill ran down my spine but I just couldn’t bring myself to look back. Continuing on the same path, a loaded cloud hovered above my head and lightning bolts lit the evening sky. Taking refuge in the nearest building I glanced at the convenience store’s name, Bull’s Eye. Upon entering, a chime welcomed me in- along with a startled rat. The fluorescent lights flickered in time with the thunder and the multiple refrigerators hummed dauntingly. This place wasn’t as welcoming as its chime. Attempting to keep my placid composure I couldn’t ignore my angst. Perspiry palms, prompt heartbeat, panic stricken- for some reason I felt endangered.
Another chime added to my qualm. Now attentive, I swore I heard a blade leaving its carrying case. I slid down behind scanty shelves and shut my eyes trying to stay calm. With every footfall I squeezed my eyes tighter- then I felt his breath against my forehead.
“Bulls eye”, he whispered as he grazed my cheek with his smooth, slender, blade.
