davidjsherman
The Winter Formal was supposed to be a place of fun, excitement. Instead, thanks to Paul, the evening was full of despair and fear. Paul stood on stage in the gym weilding a shotgun. He had already shot four, and was about to unload the rest of his shells into the crowd.
She lit a cigarette while he put his pants on, grabbed his shirt and walked out of the motel room. She felt dirty, lonely, she wanted to curl up and die. She hated what she had to do for money.
Carl divided the money. He gave Phil ten grand and kept fifteen for himself. "Why do you get more?" Phil asked. "Because I put this plan together." "That's bullshit." "Get over it, Phil. That's the way it is." "No, it ain't." Phil pulled a revolver from his pants and shot Carl in the chest.
She raced down the hall, hoping for an exit. The black velvet pouch in her hand felt heavy, but there wasn't a chance she would leave it behind. At the end of the hall, she pushed her way through the door marked "Exit" and found herself in an alley. She turned toward the street and ran.
Janice ran upstairs. She knew he was right on her heels. She ran into the master bedroom and slammed the door shut. What now? She locked the door knowing it would only slow him down slightly. Running to the window, she opened it and pushed out the screen. She wasn't going to let him get her.
The stroller broke free from Anna's hand at the top of the street. She was talking on her cell phone, unaware of the imminent danger. She reached into her purse and when her hand when back for the stroller, it came up empty.
The stroller was gaining speed as it headed toward the intersection at the bottom of the street. Anna dropped her cell phone and purse and ran after it.
She ran as fast as she could, but the momentum was too great.