• Carrie’s legs started to ache. Her breath hitched and her lungs started to close. She heard the angry hollers of those behind her.
    “Just keep going.” She chanted to herself. Her feet pounded the pavement, lighter than the steel-toed boots behind her. Carrie was too afraid to shift her head slightly to the side to check the predators behind her. Her hands shook with fear and her legs shook with exertion. She could smell the cigarette smoke curling in the air and the chains clinking in their pockets.
    “Why-oh-why didn’t I just call a cab?” She muttered angrily to herself. She felt in her pockets for any sort of protection, but came up empty-handed. Carrie internally scolded herself on the stupidity of her actions. Her city was full of rising gang violence. Girls were just being plucked off the street like litter in a city park. If only she didn’t storm off, frustrated because of a petty argument, she would be safe at home already.
    Carrie replayed the pathetic scene in her head over again. She just couldn’t believe that Laura, her best friend, walked away without a word after their little argument about guys and parties and nonsense. Carrie sighed, almost forgetting that she was the prey in a game of cat and mouse. She hurriedly glanced behind her and her big brown eyes widened. The group had spread onto both sides of the street. There was no evading them now.
    “Hey girl!” Carrie kept her face down. One of the guys behind her had finally spoken out. His voice was gruff and sounded as if he had a bad smoker’s cough. Her legs started to move a little faster, and they noticed.
    “We only want to hang a while!” Another called from across the street. Carrie bit her tongue from yelling back to these lowlifes. She stuck her clenched hands into her pockets and upped the length of her strides. She had to get into a public area.
    “We’re going to get’cha!” One of them laughed. Then another called out to her,
    “We’re gonna get’cha babe!” Carrie felt a hot tear run down her face. She had had enough.
    Carrie broke out into a run. Her tennis shoes vibrated against the cement and she felt sweat droplets start to form on her temples. The setting sun was blurry in her vision and she still smelled the acrid cigarette smoke.
    “Don’t run girlie! We’re faster! We’re stronger!” They started to chant around her. Carrie let out a squeal as she felt a hand come down hard on her shoulder. She fell down hard, tripping on her own flailing feet. Her hands slid across the pavement, bloodying them immediately. Tears started to line her face as she felt a looming shadow pass over her.
    “Got you.” They said in unison. Carrie studied each of their faces. They looked very much alike.
    The first man was tall, thick-armed, with the veins on his arms prominent. He exhaled a puff of grey smoke that shadowed the dirt on his face. He looked ruthless and desperate. The second man was short and jittery; he was broad though, and his jitters made him a quick reactor. The others all looked like spitting images of each other: tall, dark hair, black hoodies. Carrie thought she spied a speck of silver glinting in their hands.
    Her tongue tied, Carrie sat on the ground, hoping for mercy. The men eyed her casually, as if she were a piece of meat in the market.
    “Hm…” The first man rubbed the stubble on his chin. The others turned to wait for his reaction. Obviously he was the leader.
    “Tuck-” One of the men started but ‘Tuck’ threw a hand in his direction.
    “I’m thinking of what to do!” He yelled harshly at the troupe. They all murmured a few choice words for him, but did nothing else. Carrie glanced slowly at every one of their faces, hoping to break through to one of them. She was just a kid, after all, a kid with a family at home and friends at school. She finally passed upon the small jittery man. He was looking at her and she looked at him as if she could see his soul.
    “Please,” she mouthed. The man’s resolution wavered for a moment as pity washed through him.
    “Tuck…” His said, dropping his shoulders.
    “What Dave, What!?” He said, turning on him. This was all the delay Carrie needed. She hopped up and bolted down the street, ignoring the men’s shouts and the racing boots. She would make it back home.
    Carrie’s hair flew out behind her. In her mind all she could see was the police station. Either she makes it there, or something really bad was going to happen.
    “Catch her!” Carrie heard the raspy voice echo behind her and she sped up. Her backpack thumped against her spine and her shoes whacked the dingy white cement.
    “Why? Why me?” She yelled to herself. She felt her asthma start to kick in. Her gasps became muted struggles, but she urged herself on. Carrie’s hands searched viciously through her pockets for her aspirator. Finally, she found it in the jacket of her blue windbreaker. Carrie, still dashing down the street, took a long gulp of her medication. Immediately she felt her airways begin to lighten. However, her backpack’s load felt like it was getting heavier.
    Carrie started to slide off the straps of her backpack, hoping she would be able to retrieve it later. She whipped it off into a yard and kept her marathon going. The sun had finally set and now the stars were lighting up the sky. Carrie took a cautious look behind her and a cry of relief echoed from her.
    “They’re gone! I’m safe! I’m safe!” She fell down into the soft grass of someone’s front yard and laughed off her stupidity.
    “I can’t believe I was so brainless! All of this because of a stupid fight.” She scolded herself. Carrie picked herself up off the grass and searched the streets for her backpack. She finally spotted it, about twenty houses down the street.
    “It’s not worth it,” She muttered, thinking of the possibility the men were lurking in the shadows. She turned and made her way for the main drag.
    --
    Fast food and putrid gasoline smells filled Carrie’s nose. She felt safe, protected under the neon signs and the sidelong glances of people. She scurried down the city street, dodging businessmen and Prada-wearing women.
    “Who knew what could happen behind the scenes of all this.” Carrie murmured, looking around at all the commercialized glory. She shivered once at her encounter, but continued on to the police station. Carrie knew the general idea of the station, but she still got lost on the way.
    “Stay on the main drag.” She told herself, remembering the unwise decision of venturing outside the glances of people. Finally, she found the cement steps and official door of her city police station.
    “Hello, may I help you?” A cheery receptionist greeted Carrie warmly.
    “Well, uh, I was just chased and threatened-” Carrie, stammered but the woman cut her off.
    “Gang activity?” Carrie nodded. “Fill out these forms and make sure you have descriptions and approximate times and locations alright?” Carrie nodded again and took the paper-filled clipboard to a seat.
    “Descriptions…” Carrie mused over what to write. “Tall, heavily-muscled, scarred, hooded, most likely carrying weapons. Smokers.” She muttered what she wrote and then filled out the personal details.
    “May I use the phone to call my mom?” Carrie asked shyly, handing the clipboard back.
    “Of course you may.” Carrie dialed her number and prepared herself for her mother’s onslaught.
    “Hello? Carrie?” Her mother answered on the first ring.
    “Mom, listen I need you to come and get me.”
    “Where? School? Honey where are you? You should’ve been home two hours ago! I sent your father out looking for you and-”
    “Mom, I’m at the police station, I’m not in trouble, I’ll explain once you get here.” Carrie hung up and sat down in the hard plastic chairs to wait. Carrie noted the fresh-brewed coffee smell wafting through the room and the lemon pine- sol scent on the tables and chairs. Carrie let her head fall into her hands as she reviewed the occurrences of the day.
    “I just can’t believe this happened to me.” She muttered into her palms. They smelled of dirt and smoke. Carrie looked at the clock, ticking restlessly on the wall. Almost seven, she thought.
    “Excuse me are you Carrie?” A policeman strode out of the back, holding the clipboard that Carrie had just turned in. Carrie nodded her head solemnly and straightened her posture. The officer and sat next to her, stroking the stubble on his chin.
    “I’m Officer Charlie. I just read through your statement.” He paused and took a swing of the coffee he was drinking. “I’m pretty sure this is the local gang that’s been causing all this trouble. Do you remember how many men there were?” He put a hand on her shoulder and patted it gently.
    “Five or six I think. It was hard to tell.” Carrie bit her lip and looked down at her balled-up hands.
    “Did any of them hurt you? Once we catch them would you like to press charges?” The officer took out a notepad and a blue ballpoint pen. Carrie shook her head vigorously.
    “I wasn’t hurt, but I’m sure there are tons of people that were. I’ll stand up for them.” Carrie looked at the officer and nodded minutely.
    “Alright then. Well, I have a group of men out looking for them as we speak. Would you mind staying and picking a few out of a line-up?” Officer Charlie stood up and pointed to the back of the station.
    “They won’t know it’s me?” She said all the worry and panic wide in her eyes.
    “No. Your identity will be completely protected.” Carrie nodded a yes and the officer smiled. “You did a good think coming here. These guys will finally be behind bars.” He paced away, muttering into his walkie-talkie. Carrie stood up, following the officer to the back. She passed a tack board in the break room full of evidence clips and descriptions of the gang. She shivered, not wanting to see the images of the victims. “This could’ve been me.” She whispered, hugging her arms to her chest. The officer pointed her to a dimly lit room that held two chairs and a table.
    “Wait here. We’ll send in your mom when she arrives.” Carrie sat and pulled her legs up to her chin. A tissue box sat in the middle of the plastic table and Carrie’s fingertips sought the soft cotton touch. She blew her nose as her mother entered.
    “Carrie?” Her mom touched her shoulder and Carrie wiped her hand across her cheek. Her mother sat down next to her and Carrie launched into her tale.
    --
    After she finished retelling her afternoon, Carrie’s mother stroked her hair.
    “Oh honey.” She murmured in a subdued voice. Carrie passed her mother a tissue and hugged her closer.
    “I’m going to help Mom. That’s why I stayed.”
    “Of course.” She patted Carrie’s hand and turned to the officer waiting in the doorway.
    “They’re bringing them in now.” Carrie nodded as the Officer closed the door and turned the little lock. Carrie heard exactly when they passed in the hallway.
    “That little girl! The only one that got away!” Tuck was yelling in his raspy smoker’s voice. Carrie shuddered as the lights in the room across from her were thrown on.
    Across from her, through only a four-inch plate of one-way glass, were Tuck and various others from the gang. He stood nonchalantly, hands thrown deep in his pockets.
    “Do you recognize any of them?” Officer Charlie said firmly.
    “All of them. That’s them.” She said.
    “Put ‘em in the system Joe.” Charlie said to the man guarding the door. Joe left and a second later, the line-up room was full of the police force.
    “It’s time I put you in here.” She heard Joe mutter to Tuck. Tuck spat a few curses toward the law and his hands were shackled behind his back. They led them out of the room, Tuck last. Carrie stood up and slipped her windbreaker back on. Her hand began to turn the doorknob but she froze.
    “I won’t forget ‘cha Carrie! Don’t think I will!” Carrie turned slowly, a hand covering her mouth as she saw Tuck’s face pressed against that lowly piece of glass, glaring at her as if she personally put the shackles on his hands.