By thecrazystorywriter14

It's dark.

The cool nimbus of air is anything but comforting. There is no speech. The only sound I can register is the light patter of my own footsteps on the concrete. The buildings on both sides of me are still—so still and unilluminated that I could mistake them as abandoned. Now that I think of it, they probably are abandoned—but what am I to tell?

The sky in front of me is a dark blue and I can make out large clouds engrained in the atmosphere. They hang in odd formations, as if they could fall from the sky at any moment. As I make my way along the unending pathway, the clouds in the sky remain still despite the rocking of my body.

All I wanted to do was get some eggs. Now I'm stuck in some mischievous alleyway alongside a street as familiar as my fourteenth great-uncle. My phone is dead, and I'm sure not stopping by one of these dark and seemingly abandoned apartments to ask for a phone.

My negligence of bringing a jacket soon becomes apparent. It's most likely forty degrees out, and all I'm wearing is long pants and a thin tropical shirt. I stuff my hands into my pockets to keep them warm.

I try to stay on course and only look ahead, but I can't help but marvel the unkempt façades of a few apartments. Their windows are barred, and the metal poles are rusted.

I don't know what to do. I'm scared. There's nobody here—nobody to help me. As I pass a nearing alleyway, I hear an ear-piercing explosion and a very familiar stench of gunpowder. My heart rams against my sternum, and my shirt flutters with each beat. If you put a gun to my head I cannot explain the feelings I feel at this moment.

I can't hear. My ears feel like someone punctured them with icepicks and shoved their finger into my ear canals. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm on my knees, kneeling in a puddle of water. At least I think it's water. I touch the liquid and bring it to my nose.

With one sniff of the liquid I know what it is – water, thankfully. My heart's still beating fast, but the adrenaline has worn off slightly.

Now I've got another problem. I'm not in pain, nor do I see anything—or anyone—that could have caused me pain. I can't stand. I can't speak. I don't know what happened.

As I sit there in the damp air of the city, I can't help but think back to my friend at home. It's only been forty-five minutes since I left. Translation: she's worried sick. Now I'm sitting here, debilitated by this intense fear or some other force, while my friend is at home probably screaming her life away.

If someone's here to rob me, just please rob me. Leave me alone. Let me stay here all alone and let me wait for my intense ordeal to subside.

After a moment, the illumination of two blinding headlights startles me. I look up to see the car slowly approach and quickly stop at the curb. I can hear mumblings that should be voices. Two strong arms grasp me by the underarms.

The cool nimbus I once felt now is little. A warm cloth covers me as mechanical bouncing rocks me back and forth. Underneath me is a comfortable seat, luxury compared to the cement I once sat upon.

My eyes gain focus as I consider the blanket covering me. It is a plaid black and white blanket. Maybe grey and white. I can't tell in the dark. I glance around in the dark and look for those who rescued me. Beside me is someone unrecognizable in the darkness. There is another figure in the driver's seat in front of me.

I went from being on the verge of death to sitting safely in what I recognize as a car. I still don't know what happened, but now I know that I am safe. Even so, it's still dark.