#WritcoStoryPrompt28
Wide, frightened eyes took in the casual gait of the man walking towards her. Cold beads of sweat broke out across her forehead. It couldn't be him, could it?
It was him! That smirk on his thin lips was too cruel to belong to someone else.

I tried to run, but fail as he pull out his Gun.
Do not move, he said.

Sweats crawl down my spin. He's a wicked man, a abuser.
How did he find me here, I have no idea.

What do you want, I asked. He smirk, making him look more evil, like that's even possible. Now you're asking me what do I want, he fired back... I tried to reason with you at the funeral, but you didn't listen instead you told me to leave. Get in the car, he said. I was frozen , with the 45 slicer weapon pointing right between my eyes. I felt weak, but I could not move, no I could not go with him. GET IN THE CAR, he yelled pushing the gun more to my face.

Better yet, how could it be! After the funeral he was shot.
She had killed him years ago!...

She should had kept her mouth shout, he said, while watching to see if I'm going to run. Click! He opens the door to the passenger seat, urging me inside. I climb in still shaking from what could happen to night. He seems more out of it. His clothes are torn , bags underneath is eyes, when was the last time he took a shower, God he smells like death...

Quickly he moved to his side of the car, while pointing the gun at me. Has he made his way in, click! He closed the doors....