My tense shoulders relaxed, and my eyes widened in relief, my vision no longer clouded by fear and worry. I had never thought I'd be glad to see rats in my life. But, hey, they were better than a cold-blooded killer or a rapist or a brain-eating zombie. Ok, now I was thinking about zombies. I knew I shouldn't have watched "The Walking Dead" before going to bed, that's not very wise. And walking around at 2 AM in this neighborhood isn't exactly wise either.
As I quickened my pace, trying to shake off the remnants of fear creeping up my spine, a faint click echoed in the alley. I froze in my tracks, my breath hitching in my throat. Was it just another rat scurrying about, or was it something more sinister lurking in the shadows? My hand instinctively reached for the small canister of pepper spray in my purse, ready to defend myself if need be.
The sound came again, closer this time, making my heart race with adrenaline. Every nerve in my body screamed danger as I debated whether to run or confront whatever—or whoever—was following me. Steeling myself, I turned around, only to see a poor woman being stabbed by a tall dark figure.
I froze in fear and didn't know what to do. Something must have given me away, because the tall figure turned to where I was standing, watching in horror, and for a second I thought I would be next. I would be stabbed in a dark alley and become just another murdered girl, like those who were so popular in the news lately. The dark guy- because it was definitely a man- just ran away into the night.
Still trembling, I somehow managed to run to the victim who was spread in the alley, still gasping for air. I kneeled beside her and tried to keep pressure on the wound, like I had seen in so many movies, but it didn't seem to be working. Blood was pouring out her
like a river, staining the pavement and the woman's clothing. Her pale skin was now covered in a deep red liquid, spreading quickly and staining her clothes.
I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth like I had bit my tongue or lip, but a hundred times stronger. It made me want to gag and turn away. But I couldn't do it. I knew she would die in my arms and didn't want her to feel alone as she took her last breath on Earth. So, I stayed beside her and with my free hand i took out my cell to call 911.
As I held the phone to my ear, my voice shook uncontrollably, "911, what is your emergency?" The operator's voice on the other side of the line sounded calm and collected. It was the polar opposite of how I felt. Sirens were blaring in the distance, but I knew they'd never reach us in time. My heart ached for the wounded woman lying near me, her life slipping away.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, as if someone was lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike again. My heart raced as I glanced around, trying to spot any sign of danger.
"La mort, la mort" the woman mumbled interrupting my train of thought, and there I heard her gasping for the last time.
The ambulance arrived, and with a jolt, they loaded her onto the stretcher, her body limp and cold. I couldn't help but think that it could just as easily have been me lying there, a lifeless shell of who I once was.