Flashing his pointed canines, he gave a sickly grin. He stood just centimetres away, his lips grazing over my own.
At this point, panic continued to sweep over me. There was nothing I could do to stop him sensing my fear. He knew the control of which he held over me.
And he liked it.
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Story by April Harwood
Wind Chime
Tuesday, September 11, 2001.
That morning in the coffee shop. I'll never forget it.
Even when I sleep, the n...