A Hillsborough Community College Student Publication since 1978.
By Jessica Fuentes
I could not do anything, I was helpless. The broken vase inches from my nose, being able to see the ridged, jagged pieces. If only I was brave enough to help her. I could n’t move, I felt as if I was out of my body watching the havoc take place in the slowest pace. Hostile blows lash one-sided. Until finally it came to a stop, making the air feel tight and unbreathable.
The silence was deafening. I saw the dark red blood roll across the floor as if the room was at an angle. Footsteps stride as he neared me. Closer and closer, not yet knowing I am lying behind the couch. Holding in my breath for as long as I could bear.
That smell, I know that smell. The coffee shop on the corner of the block. The smell I could easily identify is strong. Could I use this to find her killer once this nightmare has ceased?
Obliviously, no one in their right mind is going to be able to help me.
His heavy boots thump louder than my protruding heartbeat as he parades over to her breathless body.
Oh no, the hair collected against the baseboard swirls across my nose and all at once without any control in my
Beady eyes bulge from his unkempt bushy face. There was a pause, I do not think either of us knew what to
A single drop of sweat rolled down from a thick vein coming across the side of his forehead. Within a moment
he drops beside me. A spark ignites in his eye followed by a sigh of relief.
He proceeds to say with a grim smile across his face, “Hey there buddy I ain’t-gonna’ hurt cha.”
The man gives me a pat on my head and swoops me up with ease. With a scratch behind my ear he whispers:
“You’re my good boy now.”