The street lamps dimly lit the rain-soaked streets of the small town
in which I live. Terraced houses line each side of the narrow streets
and the sound of raindrops on tiled roofs constantly drum in my ears.
The streets are totally empty, not even the odd car or person breaks
the monotony of the black tarmac. A rusty iron fence surrounds the
small park by the houses and the play area is deserted and broken. The
sky is dark and overcast, with the occasional roll of thunder rumbling
in the distance.
By ten o'clock my shift at the local supermarket is over and I have to
begin the long, mind-numbing walk home. The supermarket car park is
covered in red, yellow and brown leaves from the old trees at the side
of the road and I struggle across the slippery surface until I reach
the dark subway that leads under the main road to the terraces. The
subway walls are covered in graffiti while broken bottles and
cigarette ends line the floor. I always feel slightly nervous when
walking through this subway; its intimidating darkness makes me
uneasy. Emerging from the subway I meet the usual dim glow of street
lamps illuminating the small terraced houses that, to me, signified
safety and protection.
"Empty your pockets!" shouted a gruff voice, as a man jumped out from
the side of the subway exit, "Give me your money or I'll kill you!"
There stood a tall, well built man, dressed in dark, ragged clothes in
an aggressive stance with his fist raised and his other hand in his
pocket. He wore a hooded top concealing most of his face, except his
black rotting teeth and his stubble covered chin. His shoes had holes
and there were cuts and scars on his face. He shivered and shook while
the rain soaked him through as he pinned me against the wall.
"Please don't hurt me," I begged. "I've done nothing wrong."
"I said empty your pockets!" repeated the man
"What do you want from me?" I asked nervously.
"If you don't give me your money, I'llâ€¦" he nodded his head towards
his pocket, where my eyes met with the tip of a shining object that I
presumed was a knife.
"Ok, just please don't hurt me!"
By now I was petrified, so I nervously put my hands in my pockets and
scrambled around for and loose change and then pulled everything out
and dropped it on the floor. The man immediately bent down to pick up
the coppers and chocolate bar that fell to the floor. He counted the
change rapidly and put the chocolate in his pocket.
"What's in your jacket?" the man shouted.