So let me you a story about the time I spent a week in a fairly large city the summer between my junior and senior years of high school. I was there with my family for a convention in which they were participating. Other families had kids my age, so I made a few friends that week. And my parents let me hang out with them in the convention center for a while. The convention center was like two blocks away from the hotel where we were staying, and they figured I was old enough to safely find my way back there after dark.
So it was probably about 10 at night when I finally bid my friends farewell, shouldered my handy-dandy backpack (I was way too cool for a purse in those days) and began my short journey back to the hotel. I knew the way well enough (it wasn't that far), so I wasn't at all nervous as I started out. But I hadn't gone far at all before I heard something.
Footsteps.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw a fairly large and suspicious-looking man standing a few feet behind me. He had seemingly come out of nowhere, so I suppose he'd walked out of an alleyway or something. It was the kind of thing I'd only seen in bad horror movies with cute girls who can't fight/run, but they make up for it with their epic screaming talents.
I decided to play it cool. There was no reason to believe that fairly large and suspicious looking man (FLASLM for short) was doing anything more than taking a stroll behind a girl with a backpack. There was no reason to believe he was following me. There was no reason to believe that the next morning's newspaper was going to contain a brief story about the raping/mauling/murder/etc. of an unfortunate out-of-town teenage girl with an equally unfortunate backpack.
Or maybe there was reason...
I started walking a little more quickly, hoping that the FLASLM was just a coincidence, but I could still hear his footsteps. They were matching mine, pace for pace. Again, I tried not to panic. I mean, there was no reason to believe he was doing this on purpose. Maybe he suffered from horrible marching band flashbacks where he couldn't NOT match walking pace with other people.
But I started to walk even faster.
The footsteps also walked faster.
I turned around and glanced again at the FLASLM. He looked at me and smiled. It was one of THOSE smiles. One of those smiles that bad movie creepy guys give when they're about to hurt someone. I turned around, still trying not to panic, and I walked even FASTER.
This time, when the footsteps matched my pace, I lost it.
I broke out in a run. Sure enough, FLASLM also started running. He was chasing me.
My life started flashing before my eyes. Wow! Was I REALLY into pink that much as a kid? Like seriously, it's like the first 12 years of my life were just one big pink blur. What was I thinking? Luckily, when I was in middle school, that peculiar shade of hot pink that was so bright it could block out the sun became popular. And after a few weeks of being in love with that particular color, I think it burned my eyes until I just got completely burned out on pink.
So after my life flashed before my eyes, I realized I was going to die. The FLASLM was going to catch me and kill me to death. This was the end. I started thinking about what my funeral would be like--if they even found enough of my body to confirm that I was indeed dead. I pictured people leaning over my closed casket while someone sang "Can You Feel the Love Tonight," because that was my favorite song in those days. And people would be crying, not because I was dead, but because they were thinking about the Lion King and how Mufasa died. And let's face it, the death of a cartoon lion with James Earl Jones' voice is like the saddest thing ever.
Yes, I thought about these things as I ran. And I almost didn't realize how close I was to my hotel. But there it was, right in front of me. I just had to run fast enough to get to it.
The FLASLM was right behind me, but luckily, he tripped over a rock. Silly FLASLM! This gave me just enough time to reach the door of the hotel before he could catch me. I grabbed the handle of the hotel door and jerked hard, knowing my safety was just on the other side of that door.
But the door was locked.
I don't know what possessed me to do it. Normally, I'd never even DREAM of doing something so desperate. But I looked over my shoulder at the FLASLM, who was just rising to his feet again. He wasn't smiling anymore. He looked angry. And dangerous. He rushed towards me.
And I knew there was only one chance I had to avoid being a statistic. I didn't have time to think. I just did it.
I pulled my backpack from my shoulder and I swung it into the glass of the hotel door. I swung it with all my might. And miraculously, the glass shattered, leaving a hole large enough for me to jump through.
I leapt through the hole in the door, knowing I was safe, safe from the FLASLM who would surely murderize me.
But as I jumped through the hole, my pants leg caught on some of the jagged glass. And the FLASLM caught up with me, grabbing my leg.
He grabbed my leg and pulled it. He pulled my leg. He pulled and pulled and pulled it.
Just like I'm pulling yours.
The end.
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