I'M NOT LETTING YOU GO |✔ Writing

Part 1

LATE AT NIGHT STROLLING HOME

Walking down the street from work, the wind is really cold. I'm going home. As I go by, the leaves of the trees that line the streets and lawns bristle up above me. I can hear the leaves falling and scraping on the pavement. Moving ahead as the wind battles against me, pulling me back in the direction of the store. I get this strange sense. The one that simply states that something is about to happen. The atmosphere's spell gets to me, with all the fog and gloom telling you straight up that something is lurking. As this sight follows me, I walk a little quicker. My residence is only a few blocks away. 

 The unspoken streets remain silent, with only the slicing wind whispering in the silents.

That is until I heard footsteps approaching from behind, which made a loud but muffled grinding sound against the pavement of the sidewalk. 

I pause to make sure I'm not hearing things, and as soon as I do, the grinding, which sounds like a 'foot crushing on leaves,' stops. I feel it unpleasant, but I don't dare to look, so I can only hope my assumptions are incorrect. There's no way someone is following me home late at night on purpose.  

I'm attempting to destroy the simulations that are erupting from me. The leaves behind me just serve to remind me that 'someone is following you.'I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop myself.

I felt compelled to turn with a forceful shove.

I went completely still. The guy in front of me's dimming shadow. This isn't what drew me in. It's the way he just stands there, seemingly studying me. I'm not even aware that I'm holding my breath. As I let it out, it sounded like tremors mixed with realization. Apart from the fact that all my nerves are bolting in their place, yearning to take a piece of me away from this circumstance, I stand there unmoving, or as still as possible. The leaves rustle as they move from one location to another. It's completely silent quiet.

Something jerks my lags into a complete 180'. Taking full speed as I begin to rush, only to fail as strong rough hands seize the ends of my shoulders, jerking me back against a solid surface, his hard rigid chest. putting me in a suffocating chokehold. My heart is racing. pounding furiously as though about to explode I fight, hoping to relax the grip, but it simply becomes tighter. I'm squeezing into a Stridor. When my breathing becomes labored and I experience dyspnea Croaking and whistling; rattling sound in my chest, caused by a blockage in my airways The process accelerates, causing blotchy eyes, dots to form in red, and blurring into a blackening swelling of blackness, enclosing me in darkness, and then...

Then there isn't anything...