Ok, so I know it's been a while since my last post, but uni has been busy as. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Speaking of stories and uni, here's one I did for the other. Enjoy :)
I walk, through the silent, dead night, trying to find my car.
“Need a hand?” He said, from the darkness behind me.
“No! What the hell?! Leave me alone, you CREEP!” I quickened my pace, not daring to look back at him. Afraid that I’d see him there, following me. But I knew he was. I’d heard about this kind of stuff happening, stories about students going missing on the way back to their cars. I don’t subscribe to that sort of fear-mongering, to be honest. I always thought it was made-up, you know, to make people take the bus home or something. Never believed a word of it. Until now, that is. Now that I decide to leave my car halfway to Mt Gravatt to save on parking; now after I lost track of time in the library and spent five hours researching Harvey and Facey for my contracts assignment; now that there’s some random freak following me and probably wants to chop me into little bits. And eat me. Oh God. Would he really do that? Could he? There are some whackos in this world – like that guy who shakes his head on the train. But how many are capable of actually killing and eating some uni student? Maybe 20, worldwide. Yeah, 22, tops. There’s got to be at least a dozen in the US alone (don’t get me wrong, the US is probably a nice place – my friend Shaun is on a working holiday there at the moment), at least 5 or 6 in Europe and maybe 2 or 3 in China. That leaves, like, 2 freaks for Australia. And one of them is after me. Fantastic. I haven’t showered today. Or yesterday. The water’s out back at home. That’s not the truth – in fact my personal hygiene is second to none – but I might tell him that when he’s about to chow down. I wonder if he washes people before he eats them. Or if he shaves the hairs off or waxes them. Maybe he’ll let me chose the method of preparation. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough. My paces quickens. I hear a twig snap from somewhere behind me. He’s still there. I can see my car. It’s just ahead now, not far to go. If I sprint, I could make it. But what if he sprints too? And I trip and he catches up to me? Or what if he’s just flat out faster? I can hear his breathing behind me. Loud and raspy. I can’t be certain, but I think he’s smiling. The car’s getting closer. Almost there. He’s still behind me. I think. There’s only one way to be certain. But if I turn around to see him it might be the last thing I do. The car’s almost there. I reach into my pocket and grab my keys. The car’s really close now. Keys in my hand, I attempt to select the right one, then think better of it. I push keys between my fingers to make rudimentary brass knuckles. I’m gunna fight my way outta this. I get to the car and stop. Just for a second. I can see a figure behind me in the reflection of the window. I count to 3, then turn, fists raised and screaming. He grabbed me by the wrists and overpowered me.
“Easy there, mate, you’ll put an eye out with those.” He said, motioning toward my keys. I was right, he was smiling. I wrestled free and jumped into my car, ram the key into the ignition, start her up and drive away, ignoring a red light.
“Doing his job my arse.” I say to myself. Damned security guard, I can walk to my car just fine all by myself...
