Lean closer and hear what she says
I lean forward, placing one hand on the brick wall behind her head. “What did you say?” I angle my ear hoping to hear her better this time.
She doesn’t smell great this close.
She smells of sweat and something else. Something tangy that burns my nose and makes my lips curl up.
I lean in anyway, desperately trying to catch that whisper, the brick wall cold under my open palm.
Rough hands seize me. I scream, surprised, but the scream is cut short when a sharp pain stabs into the side of my neck. The scream is swallowed up by a sticky hand closing over my mouth.
I wriggle and writhe in that embrace, but I can’t move. Whatever has a hold of my throat has a death grip. And the arms around me are squeezing the air from my lungs.
I’m going to suffocate.
