The girl walked briskly into the class-room; her bag flung carelessly over her shoulder. She donned a suit-type top synonymous to her grandmother’s era and a long skirt. Her face, devoid of make-up, wore a no-nonsense look as she made her way swiftly to a corner at the back of the room.
In the shadows, just behind the main-door, a seated figure watched her. His eyes rested on her in the way a house-wife would regard meat in the market. Analytic but strangely detached, fooling the seller that they lacked interest.
Unaware, the girl sat, her attention immediately swallowed by one of the books she had brought to read. The silence was calming. Minutes passed and she glanced around unexpectedly. Her eyes clashed with another. They didn’t turn away… just rested on her steadily.
An uneasy fearful tremor drifted down her spine. with a sickening feeling she finally noticed the emptiness of the room and how far she was from the door. With shaky hands she started to gather her things… every tale of rape she had ever heard played on slow replay through her head.
She stood up slowly, eyes still on him. She could swear he never blinked. Breaking the stare, she started to move, still having him in the corner of her eyes, She would make a run for it, if he as much as made a move.
She never got the chance. the figure stood up; tall and menacing in his black Hoodie . the slam of the door was the next thing she heard. She was alone.