Strangulation

There was very little noise in the entire apartment building. There was no noise at all on the seventh floor. A radio, played a little too loudly, thudded gently a few floors below, but no noise came from the street or nearby permeated the building. The refrigerator started humming as the girl rolled over peacefully in her sleep. As the radio was turned off and the tenant went to bed, nothing moved. It became an almost oppressive silence. Moonlight filtered through the slats of the curtain and stars glittered in and out of wisps of clouds. All was silent.
A startlingly loud creak echoed throughout the apartment. The girl opened her eyes, not yet sure what woke her. She glanced around, her eyes falling on her clock. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She rolled onto her back, attempting to fall back asleep. There was another loud creak and her eyes flew open. She lay perfectly still, her stomach coiling. She took a deep breath and whispered to herself, “Relax. Just relax. It’s nothing. On the count of three I’ll reach over and turn on my light. Nothing will be there. Nothing at all. 1…2…3!” She lunged across her bed and flicked the light on. Nothing was there. She had always had an unrealistic fear of the dark. Sighing, she turned off the light. She still felt uncomfortable. She was frozen in bed; too scared to move, and too much of an adult to admit it. She stared at her ceiling; a streetlamp created bars of orange light that stretched across the black ceiling.
A pillow slammed down on her head with amazing force. She was too scared to move; too scared to scream. Slowly, realization dawned on her. She started reacting. She fought against the pillow, and against the body sitting on top of her. Her hands ripped at the pillow still covering her face. She could hear the grunts of the other person as they attempted to fight her. She started screaming. She had to get out of here; she had to breathe. She scratched and kicked and hit. Fear and adrenaline took over her body. Suddenly, the pillow was let go of. But she felt something odd around her neck. As she gasped for a breath she felt a sharp pain at her throat. A cord or shoelace was slowly tightening around it. She urgently clawed for the lamp on her beside table. Anything to protect herself. She heard the hollow metallic thud as the lamp fell off the beside table, slipping out of reach. She clawed at the shoelace, every breath rattling irregularly. Her skin tore under her own fingernails, but the cord continued to tighten. Her leg lashed out instinctively and she heard the person groan in pain. ‘Must be a guy’ her mind automatically decided as she rolled away across the bed. She ripped the shoelace off as she scratched at the drawer of her beside table. Leaping on her back, the guy pinned her against the table. The corner of it dug into her stomach. She threw him off, pulling away from the table. She ripped open the drawer, the handgun thudding reassuringly against the side of the drawer. The guy raced at her again, smashing her hand in the drawer. She screamed in pain as the drawer cracked at her hand, breaking several bones. Fear suddenly pulled at her. Maybe she wouldn’t sin this fight. She whimpered, feeling the table cut into her.
“Please, please, what do you want?” she whispered hoarsely, her throat still sore from the shoestring.
“You bitch.” The man whispered in her ear. “You killed my brother.” She whimpered again.
“I swear, I got out of that business a long time ago!”
“I don’t care!” he yelled, slamming her against the table again. “That won’t bring him back!”
“Listen man, killing me won’t bring him back either! You may get caught! You’d go to jail! Then I’ll have won!”
“Shut up!” he screamed, punching the back of her head. She gasped in pain. Bright pink stars flickered across her eyes. She started crying.
“I swear, I don’t do that anymore! If I could take it back, I would!”
“But you can’t.” the guy whispered, his breath hot on her ear. She felt the shoelace around her neck again.
“No!” she screamed, and tried to leap away. The shoestring caught at her neck and she fell backwards on to the floor. She gasped. She couldn’t get any air, she just kept wheezing. She tried to breathe deeper, but only got less and less air. She rolled onto her knees, prying at the string. She sobbed.
“I hate you!” she whispered, as he tightened the string. “I hate you.” Suddenly, there was no air left. She could feel the blood rushing to her head, building up behind her eyes, trying to push out. Everything started feeling heavy, her arms, her legs, her eyelids. Slowly she let herself fall to the floor, her hand still clawing weakly at her neck. Slowly, cautiously, the man stood up. She lay perfectly still, hand lying at an odd angle, arm tucked beneath her.