Young Writers Society

Mh, this is going to be interesting alright. Mary grins as she spots a familiar young man – Jeffrey - in a city park. White-red leather jacket and half-curly dirty-blond hair do really stand out. Mary’s elegant autumn clothes aren’t any less stealthy, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed her, at least not yet.

She doesn’t care about any risks, her curiosity is more than just burning, she just has to know why, why he is the only man that escapes her control; doesn’t fall for her tricks, doesn’t get influenced, manipulated, nothing. Like this she can’t aim for the top, she has to be able to manipulate anybody in order to get there. Ambitious.

Trying to make the least noise she follows him, paying full attention to every detail she can spot.

Relaxed movement, speaks with himself, various mood expressions. Is he even mentally stable?
I wonder.

There are many couples in the park, he’s looked at every couple with a sorrow in his eyes, yet he smiled. Quite a paradox, Mary can’t yet figure it out.

A strong male by-passer bumps into his arm, but he barely budges, instead the by-passer is pushed back. Ignoring it, he continues, but the man forcefully grabs his arm. Mary doesn’t exactly hear what the man’s said, but she knows it won’t slide easily, not when a woman is involved.

Classics, he’s so going to show off.[/] Despite the cold mind she feels a slight urge to hurry, to get closer. Her legs do it themselves. So much for self-control.


“Not my problem when you walk in the center, there’s no need for me to apologize.” Mary is close enough to hear Jeffrey, hear his rough voice. It sounds absolute, but she’s certain there’s a depth to it.

“Have I just misheard something?”

[i]Don’t anger him, he’s stronger, that won’t be good. Don’t.

“The opposite.”

For freaking sake, Jeffrey. You’re nuts!

Mary tries to say something to break the situation, but she’s too late. She remains still with her mouth half open, watching the man get lifted off the ground by a single Jeffrey’s punch to the belly. The strength must have been so great, that the man is outright incapacitated. It doesn’t make much sense however, Jeffrey doesn’t exactly look muscular.

Despite just having knocked out a by-passer, Jeffrey heads straight to her with calm expression, but his cold green eyes are so penetrating, that words are stuck in her mind and legs won’t listen. He clearly ignores the bursts of emotions of the other woman, his focus is dead on locked on Mary. Dangerous, yet with a glimpse of hope.

“Curiosity killed the cat, don’t you agree?” A soft touch on her back with his hand and she’s already led. Her mind’s still organized, but as she knows herself, her body is not the mind. No comforting words or strategies help, she’s led by something of his she doesn’t understand. There’s no other way.

“I suspected you’d stalk me out of curiosity someday, but what am I supposed to do with you now that you’ve been caught.” Sounds like he’s making fun of her, but is he, really?
“Something perverted?” Mary bursts out finally, she feels much calmer now.
That’s right. Calm down, I can get out of this with words, manipulate through like with the rest. Nobody can resist my charm.

“Naive.”

He can read my thoughts or what?! And why he’s grinning?!

Jeffrey stops her once nobody’s in sight, Mary’s so shocked by her imaginations of what he could do to her, that she simply stares at him.

“Just a bad dream.”

Vision and senses black out for Mary, an accurate Jeffrey’s chop at her neck has knocked her unconscious and no sound’s been made. He whispers ‘bad dream’ into her ear and sighs as he looks at her helpless body.

So much for trying to be great.

He quickly digs through her handbag until he finds her ID card.

How convenient that addresses are written down on the cards, for bad guys that is.

He puts it back and carefully lifts her off the ground on his back. She looks so harmless, that people would probably think she’s enjoying the ride. Misunderstandings can be useful.

Once she wakes up on her bed, she’s definitely going to think it was a bad dream. What more can I ask for, really. Just forget about me.