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In The City This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   The rain was beating down on my umbrella, as though it were about to tear right through it and drench me. It sounded as though the rain drops were pebbles falling on the ground, and the wind beat against my face. My apartment was six blocks away and I knew that I couldn't make it home in this weather.

That was the thing about living in the city, you can never be too careful. How do I know a taxi driver isn't some lunatic? But I just couldn't walk home, it was beginning to thunder and my legs were aching from all the walking. I had done I attempted to hail a cab, and afterfifteen minutes, one finally came to my rescue. For the first time in my life, I welcomed the plastic covered back seat, the dank smell and the fuzzy black and white dice that hung from the windshield.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

He was a short, bearded man with little black eyes that stared straight at me. "Fifth Avenue, apartment building 203," I replied with a shudder. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. The man started up the cab and we drove off. Those eyes kept looking at me through the rear view mirror, as if they were forcing something into me to make me shudder. My mind began racing in all different directions. What if this man had no intention of taking me to my requested destination? What if he was thinking up some devious scheme instead? He began to whistle which made me so nervous that I shook. As we came to a red light, he reached over to the glove compartment. That was the last straw, I had to get out of this cab before I sawwhat he was going to retrieve. A gun? Some other weapon? I did not want to stay to find out what it was.

"Here, here's some money, I'm getting out now!" I dropped a bunch of bills on the seat, and ran. I ran the rest of the way to my apartment, without even giving a thought to the torrential rain that poured down on me.

When I got there, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was home! I closed my umbrella and went inside. It was a welcome sight to see people and light and feel warmth! I pushed the elevator button and waited. I watched the numbers above the elevator doors light up, going down from twenty to one. Finally, they opened to reveal to me that we had a new elevator man. It was too bad actually, I would miss Harold, the old man, he was a nice man.

"What floor, ma'am?" he asked me.

"The eighteenth, please," I replied.

On our way up I began to feel that I was being watched. I turned my head to see the elevator man's small, black eyes staring straight at me through a pair of large, thick glasses. They made me shudder ... n


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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