An old woman walked out of the grocery store slowly, holding her bags of groceries in the crook of one elbow and her purse in the other. “Ma’am? Can I help you with that? Ma’am?” She turned around. A young kid, maybe sixteen or seventeen, was coming towards her. His hands were stretched out, ready to take her bags, a fake smile plastered across his face. “No!” she said quickly, eyes narrowing with distrust. “I can manage by myself, young man.” The kid rolled his eyes and went back inside. Young people these days, the woman – Mary – thought wearily. Why, just inside the store she could hear a little one howling for sweets. And to think, our future is in that child’s hands. She shuddered at the thought.

Mary shuffled to her car. She opened the door and put the groceries on the passenger seat. After closing the door and seating herself, she thought she heard something in the backseat. Robber, rapist, killer! her mind screamed. She spun around, but there was nothing there. You old fool, she thought tiredly. She had backed slowly out of the parking space and was starting down the aisle when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. A young woman – no, a girl. A teenager. She was running across the parking lot, waving her arms above her head. “STOP!” the girl shrieked. Startled, Mary pressed the brake pedal. What’s going on? she thought uneasily. The girl looked crazy, flapping her arms above her head and shouting like that. Why, she looks like she’s on drugs!

Mary tentatively started to drive down the aisle again. The teenager was still about thirty feet away. “NO! STOP! DON’T MOVE!” the girl screamed. Mary was beginning to feel frightened. She had read the stories, oh yes, of unsuspecting old folks like herself who had had encounters with hopped-up youngsters. They stole your purse or wallet at knifepoint, and then slit your throat just for the fun of it. And as the girl neared, Mary thought she saw – yes, she was sure there was a strange gleam in the girl’s eyes. She was about fifteen feet away, close enough to see how white her face looked, and how disheveled her hair was. Mary pressed down on the gas, but it was too late. The girl leaped the last few steps, and slammed her fists down on the front of the car. “STOP!” she howled.

The old woman cried out in fear. “Go away!” she yelled. “Stay away from me!” She pushed the gas pedal down and the car shot forward, knocking the girl to the side but not injuring her. She could hear the girl’s inhuman cry of outrage as she turned at the end of the aisle. Damn! There was a whole line of cars waiting. She quickly turned down another aisle, but halfway through a car slowed to pull into a parking spot, forcing her to slow down. At that moment, the whacked-out teen came out of nowhere, banging on the rear passenger’s side window, all the while screaming at the top of her lungs. She grasped the door handle and fumbled with it. No! Mary’s mind screamed. Don’t let her in, don’t let her get me! The car in front of her finally maneuvered itself into the spot, and Mary shot down the aisle. The girl’s hands were torn from the handle. As Mary flew down the street, she could still hear the girl screaming, screaming, screaming …

--

Rebecca was pissed. She needed to go to the store, and made the mistake of mentioning this to her mom. “Great! I was about to lie down for a nap, anyway. Why don’t you take Kaylee with you?” Becka spun around. “Mo-om!” she yelled angrily. “I don’t want to take The Brat with me!” Kaylee suddenly poked her blonde four year old head out from under the bed. “I’m not a brat!” she declared. Becka folded her arms across her chest. “She’s not coming,” she said resolutely.

Twenty minutes later, Becka was holding Kaylee’s hand as they went past the candy aisle. “Candy!” Kaylee squealed. “Forget it. You’ll just make a mess and get even more hyper,” snarled her older sister. The little girl began to whine, and Becka pinched her finger. “Ow!” Kaylee shrieked. People’s heads turned, and Becka turned red with embarrassment. Why, oh why can’t this brat shut the hell up? she moaned inwardly.

Finally, she had gotten all of the items off of her list. She paid for them and dragged The Brat back out to the car. “Hey, Rebecca!” called out a voice. Becka turned around and – dear Lord, it was Tommy, Tommy Greene. Only the hottest guy on the football team. And here she was, stuck playing Mommy. “Kaylee,” she said through gritted teeth, “if you can keep your mouth shut for five minutes, we’ll go get ice cream.” Kaylee whooped with glee – and choked it off as her sister glared fiercely at her.

“So, Tommy, hey,” Becka said, flustered. “Hey. Whatcha doin’?” He grinned at her, exposing a mouth full of perfect teeth. “Oh, you know. Just getting some food. My mom made me take my little sister along.” Becka suddenly winced at how lame those words sounded. My mom made me? What am I, twelve? Fortunately, Tommy didn’t seem to notice. “So what are you doing tonight? ‘Cause there’s this new horror movie that just came out, and I was wondering if you wanted to - ” “Yes,” she blurted. “Uh, I mean, that’d be cool.” He smiled again. “Cool. Well, I’ll pick you up at seven?” Becka wondered if this was really happening. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine.” Tommy got into his car. “Great! See you then!” And with a wave, he was gone.

Becka leaned against the side of the car. “Did that just happen? Wow. Hey, Kaylee, you were really quiet. Are you ready for that ice – Kaylee?” The girl was gone. She peered into the car. Not there. She walked over to the other side of the car. Not there either. “Kaylee?” she called. “Where are you?” No reply. Becka started to feel the first flutters of panic beat at her rib cage. “Kaylee, if you want ice cream, you better get over here right now.” There, she’d said it. The magic words. But no little girl came running. Becka quickly began to walk past some of the cars. Ohmygod, she’s been kidnapped, someone’s gonna hurt her, I’ll never see her again, what have I done, Mom is gonna kill me! Suddenly she saw her – in someone’s car. But the car wasn’t moving. It was parked, and there was no one else in it. Kaylee was sitting in the back seat, playing with something in the car.

Becka’s fear turned to humility. Oh … my … God. She’s in someone’s car. Oh my God. You little … She called out her sister’s name sharply, and the girl looked up. “Get over here,” Becka hissed. Suddenly she noticed an old woman walking towards the car. Oh, no. “ Kaylee!” she snarled. She was afraid to walk over to the car, because then she would be calling attention to the situation. The little girl slid out the back door and pulled it shut behind her. At the same time, the old woman slid inside. Becka hoped to God that the woman hadn’t seen anything. “Now get over here!” Kaylee started to walk towards her, then abruptly stopped. “Heyyy …” the little girl said. She turned around and – oh my God, Becka thought. Her skirt! The back of Kaylee’s skirt was stuck in the door, and as Becka watched in horror, the car started to move.

Becka took off running towards the car. “STOP!” she shrieked. Thankfully, the car stopped. She waved her arms above her head, hoping the woman inside would get the picture not to move. Kaylee hadn’t been knocked down, but she had been jerked and yanked a bit. She was frightened but hadn’t started crying yet. She just kept trying to free herself from the door.

Becka was about halfway there when the car began to creep forward again. “NO! STOP! DON’T MOVE!” she begged, flailing her arms some more. She was close enough to see the fright on the old woman’s face. Why was she afraid? But before Becka could think, the car put on some gas and shot forward a few feet. No – Kaylee!

Becka sprinted up to the car. All she could think of was her little sister. She had never been so terrified in her life. But there was something else – rage. She was pissed that someone would dare hurt her sister, even if unintentionally. As she neared the car, that anger pulsed through her veins, and she got up to the front and slammed her fists down on top of it. “STOP!” she pleaded.

But – oh, no – the woman didn’t stop. In fact, she went forward. Her mind screamed out in horror. No! The car went down to the end of the aisle and turned. NO! Kaylee! Becka charged after it, hoping and praying – please, God, please – that it would stop. And it did. But then it turned down another aisle. Becka turned to the left and cut through the cars. Thankfully, the other car had stopped. Becka suddenly realized she couldn’t hear her sister. Why wasn’t Kaylee screaming and crying?

She ran up to the car and - oh God, her little sister was slumped down. Her legs and head were touching the ground but, impossibly, the back of her skirt was still caught in the door. How can that be? Becka’s mind howled. It should’ve ripped by now – please let it rip!

She ran up to the car again and grabbed her sister. Both of her knees and arms were scraped raw. Amazingly, Kaylee was still conscious. Becka lifted her head. Oh, no. Oh, no no no no PLEASE no! Her face was unrecognizable. There was just a bloody, pulpy mess where her nose and mouth was supposed to be. “Ughnn …” the girl murmured weakly.

Becka began to beat on the window in despair. “Please stop! Please! Let me help my sister!” These words were spoken only in her mind, however. All that came out of her mouth was a shrill, whistling shriek. She could see the absolute terror on the old woman’s face, but didn’t understand it. Why was she afraid? Why? You’re killing my sister, my baby sister! You BITCH! Becka grabbed hold of Kaylee and yanked with all her might. Please tear free … please …

She felt something come off in her hand, but the skirt didn’t rip. The car shot off. Becka watched in horror as the car picked up speed … all the while dragging along her sister as if she were a rag doll. Nooooooooooooooo …. come back … bring her back … pleaaaaaaaaaase …

Becka wasn’t aware that she was screaming louder than she had ever screamed before. She didn’t see the crowd that had begun to form around her. She didn’t even know that what had come off in her hand when she tugged on her sister was, in fact, what was left of Kaylee’s bottom lip. All she saw was her baby sister’s limp form, head dragging along the brutal pavement, slowly growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

And then she was gone.