• Emma’s imaginations run wild, as she walks deeper into the dimly lit city park. Images in the distance look eerie in the night shadows as if death hem self is slowly reaching a long boney hand towered her. The wind seams to whispers his words, “Come to me child, come hold my hand.”She wonders if she would take it willingly, to let death take her this time from this world of pain and hate. Her heart beat races faster and faster, each breath she takes seems shallow and unfulfilling, she quickly takes another but nothing seems to help. Each breath dries her throat and makes it sting with each inhale and exhale like fire in her lungs. She swallows hard and her throat makes a quit gulp as she feels the saliva slightly moisten her mouth and subside the flames. Sweat forms all over her as the heat from her fast pounding heart rushes blood throughout her body. She winces as the sweat slowly slides over the still healing wounds from her last brush with death. Cuts that stretch from her shoulders all the way to her lower calve and some broses that remain on her face. “Death is a very cruel thing.” Emma thinks to her self. A tingly sensation rushes up her spine, sending chills all over her as goose bumps peak on her light tan skin. Her senses scream with heightened abilities alarming her with every sound, every smell, and every movement. All her emotions tell her to run, escape before it’s too late, but as her mind plays tricks with her emotions her moral fiber encourages her to remain calm. Her hands shake violently even as she tries to calm her self, she knows better then to waste here time with these types of feelings and yet she can’t seem to make it stop. She feels like a child lost in the wilderness her eyes sway back and forth looking for any type of reassurance that she is safe, but she can’t help but feel flooded with helplessness. Her thoughts and feelings flow freely with no intention of stopping. Her body is tense; all her muscles ache with anticipation, anxious to explode in a rush of fury. Though pressured by anger she knows that anger can cause her to loose her self control, she must stay focused. Her body shakes from the night breeze and the hatred in her thoughts. The cold winter wind whistles threw leaf barren trees, empowering them to dance, enticing them to reach out. Emma’s memories flash in her head like a home movie from her past, but these memories are not very pleasant. The night she was mugged, beaten, and tortured to near death, the very thought of that night makes her quiver all over near the point of vomiting. Her mind vividly reminds her the way she fought for her life as hands griped and held her down, how he ripped away her pried, how she screamed as the knife slowly sliced into her flesh, the cold laughter bursting around her. Her visions make her more vehemence then she ever thought she could be. “If you want me death I dare you to come and claim me, I’m ready to pay you back.” Through gritted teeth Emma whispers the words as if it is man’s greatest taboo, If only she knew what awaited her.