Annie scooted to the other end of the kitchen, stopping only when her back hit a row of cabinets. She pushed herself from the floor and felt around for a weapon, never taking her eyes off of the intruder.
She felt a sharp stab on her left hand. “Shit!” she exclaimed. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing a knife. She grabbed the knife and held it in front of her. The task was difficult. Between the combination of her shaking body and the blood flowing down her hand and arm, Annie's grip weakened with each passing second. Slowly the man moved towards her, his hands raised in a position of surrender.
“Miss, would you please allow me to take a look at that cut,” the main queried. “It looks pretty deep.”
Annie stared at him. His deep voice was soothing, not at all threatening; not that that meant anything. Often times the ones who sounded harmless were the ones who were the most dangerous, she had learned that lesson the hard way. Annie pushed that memory from her head. She had fought so hard the past few years to forget. Now was not the time to dredge up the ghosts of the past. Annie ignored the man's plea and continued to hold the knife in her trembling hands.
“Please. If we do not cease the bleeding you are liable to swoon...or something much worse.” The man continued towards her.
“Who are you?” Annie did not recognize the high pitched, panicked sound of her own voice.
“My name is Cameron,” the man replied. “What is your name?”
“Annie,” she whispered.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Annie. Now will you let me take a look at your hand?”
Annie did not have time to respond. The world around her began to spin. She felt the knife fall from her hands. Her knees weakened, then gravity took over. The last thing Annie saw before the world went dark was Cameron's concerned face
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