Gwen sat home alone again. This was a fucking shame considering how
squeal of his tires, there was only silence, silence and the click, click of my high heels. The shadows were deep and the only artificial light I could see was 2 blocks away. I had to find my way back to a more reputable area before anything happened to me. Before I go any further, I had better tell you a little more about myself. I am Tracy McShaw, an Irish American girl, just out of high school. I am 5 feet tall, and have a deep red hair that shone in the moonlight that night. I was attractive enough to receive no less than 7 requests to go to the Prom, so I picked my favorite boyfriend, Tony (the guy who 4 months later dumped me on the night in question). I always have had enough money to dress in whatever style is popular at the time. I weigh 124 lbs. My chest is 34C cup and my nipples always visibly protrude through my skintight shirts. Anyway, as I walked along through the alley, I saw him. He was the most vulgar looking man I had ever seen. He was wearing greasy, torn blue jeans and a muscle shirt, plus a mud splattered, greasy, brown trench coat. His hair was long and tangled and his face was covered in ugly tattoos and scars. My heart jumped into my throat and I almost fainted, but quickly realized that that was not the smart thing to do. So I continued walking as if I was going to pass him. But he had other ideas. "Where you going honey?" he asked in a brisk, rasping voice, at the same time he grabbed my arm with his strong hand. I figured that the more I acted as if I knew what I was doing, the more likely I was to get out of this alive. So I shot a cold stare into his eyes and shot back. ñHey jerk, lay your hands off of me.î He looked a little surprised that I wasn't afraid, so I kept it up. ñI belong to somebody that could get you killed for even touching me!î Maybe he would think that I was a prostitute for some powerful pimp. A moment later, I realized that was the wrong thing to say. He spun me around and grabbed my other arm as well, effectively holding me in front of him. I could smell the cheap beer on his breath. ñOh yeah?î he snarled. ñThen I couldn't get in much more trouble for having my fun with you. Huh?î He started groping me and feeling my breasts as I struggled to get away. I figured I had better work fast or I was gonna end up raped or dead. So I kneed him in the groin, hard! He gasped and fell back away from me, doubled over and grabbing at his crotch. I used that opportunity and started running from him, but tripped on my high heels. Quickly, I kicked them off and ran away from the cursing man as he got back on his feet and chased me. I ran down that alley as fast as I could, toward that street light. As I got closer to the light, I realized that it only lit up an intersection of the alley and a seldom used road. My hopes were almost dashed as I ran toward the road. The drunk was about 30 yards behind me now and I was wearing out from the sudden exertion. I ran across into the street, and right into the side of a limousine. I fell to the ground from the impact, but quickly got up. One window of the limo slid down and a voice asked. ñAre you ok?î I whispered into the dark window, ñPlease, play along or heÍll kill me.î then I cried out: "Oh Robert, thank God. I told him that if he touched me you would have him killed, but he kept trying to rape me." At this point the drunk sobered up instantly. "You wouldn't have the guts to kill me!" then he pulled a knife out of his clothes, advancing on us. To my surprise, ñRobertî produced a gun and aimed it at the drunk, calmly saying: "Get back you dog. And ifI see you harassing anyone, ever again, I will put a bullet through your face! Do you understand?" The drunk dropped the knife and almost tripped over his own feet. "Sure, whatever you say man. I'll be cool." Then he turned and ran. I would have fallen to the ground in relief, had not the kind stranger grabbed me. I began sobbing and thanking him for helping me. He opened the door and asked me to get in. I quickly agreed after realizing that I was still a long way from anywhere safe. After we pulled away, he just let me cry for a while, until I felt better. When I had stopped, he said: "My real name is David, David Bradford. What's yours?" "Tracy" I half smiled, exhausted. "Well Tracy, where can I take you?" he asked. "I‡ I'm not sure. I've been living with my boyfriend, but he just dumped me." I was getting sleepy. I couldn't see his face in the dark, but I could feel the anger in his voice as he said: "He dumped you out there?" "Yeah." I was getting very sleepy "Well, you can come sleep in my guest quarters tonight, until we get you
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