The Struggle

A woman is attacked in the street.

                                                                The Struggle

She looked at her blood-soaked hands, and dropped the metal bar that she held.  A man laid on the ground with his head smashed in just a few inches from her.  

It had all began half an hour earlier when he approached her in the street, asking her where a certain address was.  That is when he grabbed her and pulled her to his car.  No one was about, but she remembered crying out for help.  With only two shops, it was a quiet street.  He threw her into the back of a vehicle.  Hitting her head badly against a small wooden box that sat on the seat.  Now half-conscious, her body weak from the struggle.  The engine started up and the car began moving.  

Why was this happening?

Unable to move properly, she just laid there.  

Sometime had past, and the car stopped.  A door was heard opening and shutting.  She waited for something to happen, her heart raced.  Near her head she heard the sound of another door being opened.  A hand grabbed her hair.  Being pulled through the doorway, she hit the floor hard.  She was lifted up and dragged along.  She turned her head into the direction of where she was being taken, and saw a building.  

She had never felt so petrified.

Without any warning she was slung onto the hard floor.  She tried to crawl away from him, but he would pull her back.  So she could pull herself to safety, her hands were in front of her, trying to find anything to get hold of.  Then in her right palm she touched something cold and thin.  It felt quite heavy as she held it.  She should make a move now, if this was her only chance of escaping.  With the object that she held and with utter determination she twisted her body round and swung it at the man’s head, with a strength she had never known before.  The man cried out in pain and fell to the ground.  Repeatedly she hit him with the lethal weapon.  There was blood everywhere.

She looked at her blood-soaked hands, and dropped the metal bar that she held.  A man laid on the ground with his head smashed in just a few inches from her.

“What have I done,” she said.

Then the full extent of what had just occurred became apparent.  

She rung the police, and waited patiently for them to turn up.

            The End