The Jagged Blade

May 30, 2011
By Kristin.B SILVER, La Mesa, California
Kristin.B SILVER, La Mesa, California
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I hear the distant, but prominent footsteps vibrating the core of my being. This is going to be my last breath, my last instance of tangible life. As the shrill sound of a jagged blade edges along the hallway wall, my heart quickens to an unbearable pace. I swallow, but my organs threaten to escape my body through regurgitation, as if they desire to elude the fate of the jagged knife that awaits them. A terrifying scream escapes my coarse throat, but there is no sound. My limbs are paralyzed, as if I am bound by invisible rope which is my terror. The horrific sound stops, but the silence conveys a more terrific feeling of abjectness. Suddenly, the door knob rattles with persistent agitation and is forced open. My predator stands in the shadows of the doorway and peers at his desolate prey with merciless eyes.

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