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The irony of this is absolutely uncanny. Really. It is almost like the whole thing was straight out of a story book; or better yet, a horror movie script. Here let me set the scene. I'm walking home on a dark and stormy night—already off to a great start—we had the pouring rain, frigid temperatures, thunder, and lightning.
Now don't get me wrong, I love a good thunderstorm, just not when I'm stuck walking just over a mile home, from work. I really couldn't help but think about how my environment reminded me of a scene from the slasher movies I choose to watch every time I have the house to myself. Little did I know that my life was about to become the horror movie in the rain. Maybe if I had thought about that, things would have turned out differently.
I had only walked a few blocks when I saw headlights from a vehicle bouncing off one of the street signs. It was a little weird considering the fact that most people would have been home at the hour, especially when the weather was acting as if it were a moody preteen. I mean I live in a little nobody town in the middle of nowhere, where nothing the least bit interesting or exciting happens, and the closest city being nearly two hours away, I didn't think much of it though. It is a possibility someone was just passing through, or was stuck at work late, like in my case. I love working in the music shop and all but it doesn't mean I get along with the employment staff. If only I didn't try to always give the benefit of the doubt.
I tried to ignore the vehicle, which in hindsight was not the best idea or I would've noticed before it was nearly next to me that it was a sketchy eight person van, with tinted windows. Again, cliche as hell, right?
I was always the one to yell at horror movie characters for not noticing this, or not doing that, but when you're in the situation you don't think that it could or would happen to you. Maybe if I had reconsidered that I could be home safe.
So let's just say that in the time span of about ten minutes I went from a hard working honors student, to the oblivious chick in a horror movie that gets yelled at. I tried to ignore the van that was following me and giving me creepy vibes, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. I really am dumb sometimes. Maybe if I listened to my instincts once in awhile.
Dark colored, black, maybe dark blue, rickety, old, surprisingly quiet. There were many ways I could've described the van, but in that moment in time, the only term I could think of was death trap. The van hadn't passed me, not really if I was expecting it to really, but either way it still scared me. I decided I would do something considered at least remotely intelligent and picked up my pace so I was walking faster and fast but trying not to make it too obvious. I suddenly turned down another street taking me further from home but also further from whoever was in that god forsaken thing.
At this point I was being surprised by my own actions. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, taking over. I started to run. I ran further and further, faster and faster, only slowing to a stop when I did notice the absence of a certain van.
I paused my running to catch my breath at a four way intersection. The street was deserted apart from me silently cursing all the gym classes I skipped.
Out of all the things to notice, I only noticed the fact that the van was not on the street I was now facing. I hadn't noticed many other things on the other hand. Such as the hair sticking to my face from either the rain or sweat. The goosebumps visible on my skin. The fact the rain had soaked me to the bone. How I was standing under a street light making me noticeable to the whole world, or how I was standing on the curb. I had always been spacey and oblivious of things, and sure people had told me that if I didn't start to pay attention I would get in trouble but I always thought that they meant stuff like detention. I can't help but think that if I had taken their advice, I would have noticed something had rolled up behind me, or I would have noticed that one hand holding a cloth had been put on my mouth while the other wound itself around my waist, heaving me into and open rooted van with nothing more than a squeak from me.