...As I ran down the infinitely long dark hallway, a flickering light croaked every time there was a whisper of wind. I caught a glance at the man in black. He had been chasing me, a dark figure, tall, wearing a top hat. I couldn't see much else.
I ran until a reached an empty room. It was well lit, despite the fact all four windows were covered in dirt. I was trapped. My choices were to leap out the window, ten stories down to my death, or face the eerie man. I tried the window. Rusted closed. My feet were cemented to the ground as I waited for the man to catch up to me.
It was only a couple seconds before he reached the room. I could see him more clearly now, a white male, probably middle aged, with a wrinkled face that lit up with a smile once he realized I was at his mercy.
He quickly pulled out his pen. With a snarly laugh he threw it across the room. I dove to dodge it, but he was too quick. It hit me in the lower back. I groaned in pain. I reached behind me to measure the intensity of the wound. He had stabbed me with a black ink BIC pen – he hadn’t even bothered to hit me with a fancy calligraphy pen. I pulled it out. I heard myself roar from the pain. I quickly arose, ignoring the sharp pain and blood squirting out of my back, and whipped the pen back at the man. He caught it. My fear multiplied as I realized this man was more skilled than I was. I needed to escape.
I decided the only way out was to run past him. I sprinted, as fast as my wound would allow me, and threw myself onto the man. He tumbled over, his hundred-eighty pounds creating a thud when they hit the filthy hardwood floor. I glanced around. He was reaching for his pen - near a pile of my own blood. Another rush of adrenaline pulled me off the floor towards the hallway, down a dim staircase, and out onto the street. I was safe. He couldn’t attack on the highly populated streets of the Big Apple.
I limped across the crosswalk, down three blocks, not pondering why nobody cared if I was okay. I reached a building, a skyscraper to be more specific. I walked in and I headed for the elevator. Eighty floors. I hit button 80. Although it was one of those sixty floors a minute elevator, it felt extremely slow. I tried ignoring the jabbing pain I felt on my right side.
The elevator finally opened. I stumbled to the nurse’s station, which happened to be near a K-Mart. The nurse, who I had a close relationship with, hurried over to me with a metal rolling chair. The K-Mart costumers repeatedly came over asking what had happened. “She tripped, fell into a computer, and hit her hip on the edge. Now move along…” said the nurse. She then turned to me. “You won’t be so lucky next time, I hear they are hiring more help...”
