-7-
Friday - Saturday
Rough hands pulled and jostled her. She
struggled and twisted, straining to see through the blankness, and
finally realized they'd draped something over her head. An arm
still circled her neck, holding her mouth shut through the
material. She reached up and found an exposed wrist. Her
fingernails weren't long, but they dug far enough into the skin to
make a dent. The man holding her swore and released his grip.
She could breathe and even try to yell, but
so little air remained in her lungs, her scream emerged as a
squeaky wheeze. Someone still held her right wrist and another arm
circled her waist. She reached down with the free fingers of her
left hand to try another pinch, but her right arm was suddenly
twisted and jerked around behind her back. Breath
