Followed

"Watch where you're going!" I could'nt stand bad drivers. They had the mannorisms of beastly, chaotic animals which hae escaped from the local zoo and decided to try out a real life adaptation of Grand Theft Auto. As a pedestrian, I was too young to drive, being involved in car collisions wasn't a big deal, I was road aware and if it were to happen, I would have known it wasn't my fault at all.

At this point, I had been crossing the road rather carefully when a pimped out Rover came speeding down the road with rap music blasting out the windows and two burly skinheads sitting in the front two seats. The driver stuck his middle finger up at me after I made my point, however, his passenger had other ideas. He got out. I thought, at first, his friend would pull him back in the car as they obviously had somewhere to go with the way they were racing down the road as if they were on Crazy Taxi, unfortunatly, I was wrong.

Just before this encounter, my friends had turned down the adjacent road and couldn't see the commotion I was facing all alone. I saw the glint of a blade leave the glove box and then it was passed from the driver to the passenger who had now developed a ravenous look in his eyes. He had a desperate hunger to see my blood splattered across the pavement as I started to fear for my life.

"You're gonna regret saying that to Paulie," the beast growled at me, getting so close I felt spit raining on my neck from where it had left his mouth, now foaming like a rabid dog. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had caught the rabies from the supposed 'Paulie', who I presume was the driver. I was too scared to even breathe, the cold air would have shown my fear as the warm air escaping my throat would have hit the crisp air of the evening, creating a fog to enclose us in the panic which was arising within me.

I turned away and blinked hard, hoping it was all just a misunderstanding which had been taken too far. It didn't work, he continued shouting profanities at me, screaming for me to turn around. I dropped my bag, only containing school books, and ran, ran the fastest I had ever run before. It was no surprise that he ran after me, however the alcohol running through his blood stream slowed him down, making him pant a lot quicker than me. I was never a good runner, I had never been very fit so running a long distance in the direction of my home was a struggle for me but in this life or death situation, I had a reason to take up exercise.

I came to the house with the apple tree outside, a pretty little cottage with a sweet old woman living inside. This house marked my half way point between my bus stop and my house. I looked around and couldn't see the man who was ravenous to see me battered ad weak. I stopped running and doubled over, panting as a dog would on the hottest day on record. When I had regained my strength, I started stolling home, thinking back over what must have been the scarist ordeal I had experienced in my 15 years of walking the earth.

The bushes started rustling, the evergreen leaves hiding the secrets underneath, I turned to see what it was... Nothing, or so I thought. I carried on walking only to feel a sharp, warm breath on the back of my neck. With only a partially deaf old woman around I thought there was no use in screaming, so I continued running home, finding a way to make it home without being seen. I opened the gate, walked up the cobbled path to my front door and dug out the key from my pocket. I suddenly rmemebered I had left my key in my school bag which I had dropped at my bus stop in order to run away from the tattooed, bald headed, muscualar framed maniac, or was that just fat? Fortunately, we kept a spare key under the gnome who was constantly fishing in a pond which only ever had a few frogs in it, no fish.

I opened the door, kicked my shoes off and slumped in a heap on the first step, I couldn't believe what one small comment could cause. I picked myself up after finally coming to terms with the ordeal with the possible prison escapee when I heard a chuckle from the kitchen, someone was in my house.

"Dad? You're home early aren't you? Is everything okay?" I shouted through to the kitchen where I could hear someone rummaging through the cupboards, I presumed my Dad had got an early finish at work seeming thought it was a Friday and that he was making dinner for the family.

"Everything's just fine sweetheart," a gruff voice replied, I started to panic, this man wasn;t my dad, unless he had a very sore throat. I don't know why but I had an urge to find out what was going on, no matter how panic stricken I was. I walked slowly and as calmly as possible through the livingroom to the kitchen and found him there. The man who had followed me and tried to kill me. "Welcome home, have you had a nice day at school?" The greeting I got was creepy and made me cringe. He dragged a knife slowly out of the knife block, the biggest one he could find.

While he was turned away, I ran upstairs, locking myself in the bathroom when I heard my Mum come through the door. I tried to scream, I wanted to tell her to get out, but only a whispy breath escaped from the pit of my lungs. However, I heard her scream and then take the same path as me upstairs. He folowed her, trapping her on the landing. From what I heard she punched him, hard. So hard in fact that he passed out. I unlocked the bathroom door slowly and did as my Mum instructed me to do.

"Just come out slowly, we don't want to wake him before we can get hold of the police, this man deserves to be locked up." As my Mum slowly uttered those words, I lifted my leg to step over him to go downstairs to get the phone. I felt a sharp scratch on my bare leg and I panicked. He had faked being knocked out by my worried Mother and planned to keep us hostage on the top floor of our own house. My Mum told me to lock myself in the bathroom again and that she would deal with him and after a while I only heard one side of the battle. He had killed my Mother with the knife from the kitchen. He left. I was too distraught and worried to leave the safety of the locked wooden door of the bathroom. I culed up at the base of the sink, knees to my chest, rocking and crying simultaneously.

After a while of waiting and as I planned to move out of the bathroom I heard the garage door slam, nobody ever went in the garage on weekdays, Mum and Dad just parked on the drive. He was still around my house, and now probably armed with a powertool. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he wouldn't come to the bathroom, wishing he would just leave me alone, afterall I hadn't really dont anything wrong.

I was wrong. The footsteps of the crazed passenger were slowly coming up the stairs. I clutched my knnes, trying to make myself feel as safe as possible. Tears seeped from my tightly shut eyes, rolling down my cheeks and splahing on my knees. I tried not to sob, I didn't want him to hear me.

"I know where you are little girl," he called up the stairs, leaving an echo through the house, "There's no use in hiding." I heard the clink of a chain the chainsaw my Dad used very rarely. The whiff of petrol quickly engulfed me as he fired up the engine, I was praying for someone to come through the door and stop him, praying for a miracle. The blade began to slice through the door like butter. He cut a hole big enough for him to climb through then started towards me, I curled up tightly on the floor sobbing in the dark corner of the bathroom, the growl from the chainsaw filled the room and echoed as it bounced off the walls.

He hit me, kicked me, attacked me, and killed me. Now I'm a ghost, waiting until he gets caught, my murderer. He'll regret what he did, all because of a stupid comment about a wreckless driver. I'm coming to get you.