Diary entry 11 - compared to my puny little bump people call muscle.

589 31 13
                                    

The rest of the week passes by in a blur and before I know it, it's Friday.

I have to walk home cause mum and dad are at work.

I quickened my pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky.

Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade was beginning to darken into gravel-grey.

Large pillows of cloud were forming, blotting out the old-gold colour of the sun.

I got the first splatter of rain when I was halfway across the park, taking the shortcut to get to my house.

I take shelter under an old oak, hoping that I could see out the shower.

Droplets of moisture began to drip from the leaves. They were sprinkling onto the grass like a gardener's hose. Then the rainfall became more intense. A wall of rain moved over the oak and the drops were drumming against the canopy.

So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. It reminded me of the rotor blades on a helicopter.

Eventually, the noise lessened and the drops faded into a musical chime.
The sun came out again, casting slanted beams of light across the meadow.

Steam rose slowly from the grass. It rose up eerily and drifted mist-like towards the molten-gold sun.

I step off the damp, fresh green grass and dust my butt of.

I tighten my hoodie covering it over my head more to shield me from the droplets of water, that fall from the hanging leaves of the brown tree branches.

I make my way slowly to the path on the side of the road.

Cars drive by in swift motion.

One car in particular; a black porch, slows down and parks on the side of the curb next to me.

The driver rolls down the window and I find myself getting caught in intense blue ones.

"Blossom? What are you doing? I just rained." Drake questions, turning the engine off; his face a curious mess.

I just roll my eyes and walk away. "I'm walking home. What does it look like I'm doing?" I mumble.

I hear a door slam and footsteps approach me.

My head stays draughty ahead, not wanting to look at the owner of the heavy footsteps.

A large hand grips my wrist and pulls me around; the touch setting fireworks off in my stomach.

I wince in pain from the scar that are embedded in my wrist.

Drake doesn't seem to notice though.

I attempt to wriggle my hand out of his grasp but he is to strong compared to my puny little bump people call muscle.

I look up furiously at another pair of eyes; crystal blue to be precise.

Luckily for me, I am a girl with a little more self control.

"Let go of me or I'll yell rape." I seethe, venom dripping off the word 'rape'.

His eyes widen in shock. "You wouldn't."

An evil smile plays on my lips. "Oh yes...I would." I say between an evil laugh.

His hand is still wrapped around my wrist.

I begin my countdown. "3...2...1. Ra-"

My voice is muffled by a huge hand covering my small mouth.

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