Warning: not for the faint of heart...

While home with the stomach bug that won't seem to go away, I crafted this little story for my creative writing course...hope you enjoy, and please leave any comments/suggestions!

Here was the assignment:

This week's writing assignment will focus on "stretching the tension" in an exciting scene.
Choose one of the following situations:
1) Your character has secretly been in love with X.  Now, X surprises your character by kissing him/her.  OR...
2) Your character is physically attacked -- and fights back.
Here are your instructions.
1) Set an alarm clock and spend 5 minutes writing the scene.
2) Now set the alarm clock again and spend 10 more minutes writing a second draft of the same scene.  Treat the original draft as an outline -- now you are filling in details to make the most of this exciting moment and give the reader the chance to experience it fully.  Play the scene in your imagination.  What are the sights, smells, sounds, and sensations?  Is there any dialogue?  What are your character's thoughts, feelings, and reactions?  
Write down everything that occurs to you.  You can edit later during the revision stage.

“The Mind’s Eye”

                “I really should have gotten that scarf,” Mindy muttered to herself as the elevator doors opened to the parking garage.  It really would have matched her new Chevron skirt and turquoise earrings.  Maybe she still had time to run back and grab it.  Taking a quick glance at the digital clock on her IPhone, Mindy knew she was already running short on time.  Zach was waiting for her, plus she couldn’t really afford the scarf anyway.  It was for the best, though she did really want it.  Following the logic that if it was still there on her next visit, it would be hers and meant to be, Mindy left the confines of the elevator and headed to her car. 

                Mindy’s heart quickened a bit as she plunged her hand into the depths of her purse in search of her keys.  Her hand grazed sunglasses, two pairs, a tube of mascara, her wallet thick with credit cards, numerous receipts, a pack of gum, until finally settling on her keys, nestled into the bottom of the bag.  A small wave of relief washed over Mindy.  There was truly nothing worse than making one’s way through a darkened parking garage with a preoccupation in looking for the keys.  It took attention away from the surroundings.  Mass murderers and rapists could be lurking, waiting for their opportunity to strike their next unsuspecting victim.  At least those were the tales of warning that swarmed the pages of Cosmo magazine.

                Mindy pulled the keys from her purse and pointed her vehicle’s key to the ground against her side, ready to poke an eye out if need be.  She had learned this strategy, too, from Cosmo.  Her heels clicked against the cement in a sharp staccato beat as she increased her pace, her eyes darting to and fro to take in her surroundings. 

                Her red Mazda was in sight, and her heart gave a small leap of joy.  As soon as the car was unlocked and she was inside behind the wheel with the doors locked, she would be safe.  As she brought the key to the open the door, she fumbled slightly, muttering under her breath how she wished just this once that she had followed Zach’s advice and gotten herself a new car with automatic locks and a key fob.  The Mazda had served her well since college, though, with little maintenance, plus she dreaded having a car payment, so she had stayed with her old reliable.  Now, in times like this, though, she regretted the decision.  She would already be in the car if the locks were automatic!

                She could sense him before she saw him.  The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose in anticipation, and her palms dampened.  Pulling her key, a ready dagger, closer to her, she whirled around to meet him, but she was too late.  He had sprung quickly.  Somehow she had taken her guard down.  A scream lodged itself in Mindy’s throat, unable to make its way to the surface.  Fear had silenced her. 

                Before she knew what was happening, he had tight arms wrapped around her.  The breath escaped her.  She could feel strong muscles through the thick fabric of his black sweatshirt.  He had covered his face with a mask of Bill Clinton, of all people.  She couldn’t help but feel some irony in his choice of persona. 

Her attacker pulled her closer to him, his breath smelling faintly of spearmint gum and cigars; it was a familiar smell, but she simply couldn’t place it.  Repulsed, she turned her head from his mouth and gave her best scream, pounding his chest, his arms, and sinking her teeth deeply into his shoulder, the easiest target at the moment.  She had to get away!  She wouldn’t be the next story in all the magazines she read.  She would not be a victim, but would take up for herself and all of those women out there who had experienced this same thing.

                “You are gonna be real sorry you did that, bitch.”  Though she didn’t think it possible, he squeezed her against him even more tightly.  She could feel his rage, and clearly it had turned him on.

Desperately, Mindy attempted to squirm within the tight embrace, but she found his grasp too tight.  Until he pushed her against the car, however.  He had turned her face away from him and stood behind her, one strong, heavy arm pushing her face down into the hood of her Mazda, his body pressed against her.  She couldn’t help but notice the peeling paint on the hood and the beginnings of rust.  If she didn’t survive this, it wouldn’t really matter if she hadn’t taken the initiative to get a new car. 

                Mindy heard him give a slight moan as he undid the zipper of his jeans with a free hand.  Panic filled her.  He was planning to rape her, right here in the parking garage.  He didn’t care about cameras or her feeble screams.  She had to act and do it fast.  While he fumbled with the zipper, she took her opportunity and slid down the side of the car to the ground.  Quickly, she removed her heel, now her only weapon against this monster. 

                He flailed for a moment, realization dawning that she was no longer under him and pressed against the hood.  He grunted deeply and brought his foot to meet her jaw quite firmly.  She slammed into the wheel well, her jaw and the back of her head searing with pain.  Mindy’s thoughts were clouded, and she felt severe nausea as he yanked her to her feet and again slammed her against the hood, denting it with the force her forehead made when it connected.

                Mindy lay on the hood, attempting to collect her thoughts.  She would not allow him to hurt her and to take this from her.  She had saved herself, had waited for 24 years for Zach, the man she would marry , and she would not allow this dirty and deranged man to take something so special from her, from them. 

                Again, she felt his rough hands on her, his hand making its way up her skirt, grasping the top of her panties.  She felt them tear as he yanked them down.  Tears rolled down her cheeks.  She was silent, but determined.  She knew what she would have to do.

                With every ounce she had left in her body, Mindy pushed from under his brute grip, a pure move filled with adrenaline, and lay on her back, the heel poised in her right hand, ready to strike.  Through the Clinton mask, she could see his eyes widen in surprise.  With the precision of a master archer, she pulled the stiletto back and watched with wonder as it made precise contact with his cornea, golden as the sun.  Blood poured down the mask.  He released her, yanked off the mask, fell to the floor, and held his face, great sobs wracking his body. 

                Without warning, she removed her other shoe, strode confidently toward him, and drove it deeply into his temple.  He never saw her coming, silently falling to the cold floor. 

                She couldn’t believe it had been him.  Of all people.  With that last thought, she collected her bag and the belongings that had tumbled to the ground, found her phone, unlocked the Mazda, and finally got into the safety of the car.  Her fingers gripped the steering wheel until they were white.  Her face was drenched with tears.  In the rearview mirror, she saw that a small crowd had gathered, and could now hear sirens in the distance.  It was over.  She had done everything right, had followed her mind’s eye, but she wasn’t safe.  No one was.  Now or ever.