I always hated walking alone. Made me feel, vulnerable. Though for some strange reason I found it easier to bare with under the cover of darkness, like I could hide in the shadows. There was no reason for my fear, I had never been raped, never been mugged, yet I still feared it.

I was heading back to my flat after a rather wild party, and though I was exhausted from the dancing and boozing I still felt exhilarated. I hadn't drunk much, yet I still felt slightly tipsy, and my head felt kind of dizzy. I had dressed up, nice leather boots, skinny jeans and a revealing top, but wasn't as stupid as to not bring a coat. The streets were empty, just how I liked it, and though the cold bit deep into you I thought it kind of nice. Two streets. Just two streets I reminded myself. I inhaled deeply, remembering the kiss that had happened just hours ago. Hours? It seemed a life time. Mark Davis, a cute boy just a year older than me (I'm seventeen by the way), I had fancied him for ages. And now he had kissed me! It could have been the drink but I didn't care, I loved the way his mouth moved against mine, how his tongue curled over mine.

"Excuse me love, do you have the time?" A man asked as he pulled his car up next to me. For a brief second I could see his dark hair falling over his eyes, a pale, perfect face. I quickly lowered my eyes, not want to be caught staring. Though I did have another quick peek, he had an unbelievingly handsome face.

"Um, its about eleven I think."

"Pardon?"

My heart throbbed, he was so well mannered to. He had to be my dads age at least, in his early thirties or something. I grinned quietly to myself. I stepped closer, so he could hear me better and began to speak.

"I said its about -"

I never got the rest of the sentence out. The car door swung open and I felt his hand grab my wrist. In seconds he had dragged me through the door and into the passenger seat. I felt the door slam behind me and the car screech as he floored the accelerator. Shock. There had been times when I imagined things like this, what I would do, what I would say. I felt sure I could get away, could kick and yell and bite until I tore my way out of the car. It was one thing that always made me laugh when I heard stories like this, how could one man drive and hold onto his victim. I had my question answered immediately. One handed the man drove his car while he pulled out a knife with the other. With one fluid motion he had raised it to my throat, grinning sadistically.

"One word and I'll slit your throat, understand? Now, be a good girl and sit there for me until we get home. I'm going to put my knife down, but seriously, I can stick it through your head before you even think about moving."

The man lowered his knife and smirked at me, before turning his attention back to the road. I sat there obediently, to terrified to move. I tried to push away the morbid thoughts that clung to me, told me I was going to die. And worse. It seemed like an age that he drove for, weaving in and out of small roads and back allies. Every time the car slowed my heart hammered even worse inside my chest. Finally we left the city behind, a tear ran down my cheek as I watched the last sky rise building fade into the distance. The man wiped away the tear from my face, his cool hand brushing my skin. I flinched. Then the car slowed and finally stopped outside a solitary looking building. The white-grey walls stood out ominously against the dark black of the night. Tree's circled the house as if hiding it from view, a dirty path led into the house then away into the tree's. I couldn't help it, I started to shake. The man smiled sympathetic. He climbed out of the car then circled round to my side. I thought about running but as soon as I processed the thought he opened the car door.

"Welcome home peaches."