Late Night

• Eleanor Devlyn, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2013

I round the corner: arms pumping, and legs working overtime. I feel like I have no legs-that I'm floating, speeding above the ground. I feel no pain. My mum always said I was born to be a runner, but I don't think she meant running like this.

I glide down the street effortlessly. I run in the middle of the road because i know that no cars will come at this time of night. When i left, it was 1:30am. I left my office late because i had so many papers to read, to edit.Now I wish I'd brought those papers home, like I thought of earlier.I'm so stupid!

Being so caught up in my thoughts, I don't notice the lone vehicle hurtling towards me. Adrenalaine is pumping through my veins, my reaction time fast, as i leap left with a small yelp. The cars rapidly slows as it drives past me, and i notice the driver: drunk. No wonder he didn't see me! He winks at me as i continue my run. What a ridiculous man.

I slow to a brisk walk. My pursuers were twice my height, and larger than I am, so I doubt they'll catch me any time soon. In my frenzy, I ran without really knowing where I was going, so now that I am walking, I observe my surroundings. I almost scream in frustration: I am staring at the back of my work building. Why am I making so many mistakes tonight?

Angry, I look for my car in the parking lot. You'd think I'd be able to find it immediately because its a lemon yellow. I laugh quietly to myself. To a stranger, I must seem hysterical.

Finally, after what seems like a decade, I see my little yellow car, parked beneath a large, flowering plum. I could've sworn I parked it elsewhere, but that was over six hours ago, so I assujme thats where I left it.

Forgetting where I am and what I have just experienced, I stroll towards my car, surrounded in a glow of street lamps. My keys are in my pocket,where I left them. I feel a giddy relief sweep over me. My pursuers must've lost me, or given up. Lucky me.

I click my keys and see the cars lights respond obediently. Opening the door, I smile. Never work late, I tell myself, and avoid all these problems. If only it were that easy.

I drop myself into its leather interior, and put the keys into the ingnition. I twist. No noise. In confusion, I twist another three times. Still no noise. I turn to open my door, but I hear a 'click' that tells me the doors are locked. Beginning to panic, I press my keys, but teh door will not budge.

My heart beat is racing as I look around my car, only to discover the large silhouette of one of my attackers in the back.

Now I panic. I scream at the top of my lungs and I beginn to thrash my arms wildly. The mans fist stretches out and connects with my skull, with a force I never knew was possible. As stars swim before my eyes, I curse myself for being so stupid, for working so late.

Just before a I black out, I catch a glimpse of my pursuers face: He looks drunk. He smiles a false smile and winks at me.