me, nearly grazing my arm. I froze at the sight of him, but something, a powerful force, yanked me backwards. Upon closer glance, my eyes widened, the man in the car was stark naked from the waist down.
Storm’s voice broke through the barriers of my mind, and he charged into my head like a raging bull, his target—me—the red blanket waving in the wind. Yikes! Storm’s voice swallowed me whole. He had never yelled so loud before. He sounded extremely mad. Of course, he wasn’t angry with me but, instead, at the situation. As he roared, I could almost imagine his nostrils flaring and big ivory horns on the top of his head.
“Arghhh, get the hell away from the car, Brielle! Run, run away... fast!” played like a broken record in my mind.
His voice beat against the walls of my brain. “Run, Brielle, run! Scream at the top of your lungs and run away as fast as you can!”
Without hesitation, I jumped into the air and ran as fast as I could. I was moving so quickly that it actually felt as if my feet weren’t touching the ground. It was almost as if I flew back to my parents. Tears were streaming down my face. I screamed out loud for so many reasons, but mostly, because I was empty handed—I wanted that puppy.
My father heard my screams and raced towards me. He swept me off my feet into his arms, holding me so tightly that I could hardly breathe. The man in the car quickly sped away. As he vanished, so did my chances to own a puppy.
Storm really scared the shit out of me, almost as much as the naked man did. Storm sometimes had such a potty mouth, and he accidentally used curse words when I wouldn’t listen to him. I was certain the use of the hell word was inappropriate language for an angel. If he kept this up, he would never get his wings.
My parents immediately called the police. When they arrived at the park, they asked me all sorts of questions about the man. In a state of shock, I couldn’t answer their questions. It was as if my mind turned to muddy thick soup. Storm tried to cue me in on what to say, but I was blank. The police followed us to our home. They felt I might remember things away from the scene of the crime, safe at home, where I’d be more comfortable.
“Brielle, the two nice police officers are still downstairs wondering if you could try again to answer some of their questions now.” My mother’s words were strained and her fingers knotted together nervously. “Can you come down with me?” She reached out her hand toward me, and I slipped my hand into hers. There was an odd silence between us as we made our way down the stairs.
The female police officer was the first to approach me. She spoke to me as if I was a toddler, in very juvenile terms, not recognizing how precocious I was for my age. I was seven not three. She told me that the man in the car was a ‘ very, very naughty man ,’ and that they needed to find him because he had done bad things to other little girls.
“ Sweetie, can you remember anything that happened at the park today?”
“ I think so,” I replied.
“ Okay...” The female officer knelt down on one knee beside me. “What did the man in the car look like?”
“ Uh,” I murmured and looked at my parents.
“ Did he have dark hair or light hair?” she asked.
My eyes scanned around the room. Suddenly, all of the details came rushing back to me.
“His hair was all messy, and really, really, dark black.” I paused, rolling my eyes up into my head, remembering. “He was really ugly and had big yellow teeth like a wolf and squinty black eyes...and...” I paused again, biting my lower lip. I preferred when the police lady asked me multiple-choice questions.
“ What was he wearing?” the female officered asked.
I hemmed and hawed because I was embarrassed to tell them what he was wearing. “Uh, a black t-shirt, I think. But his body looked like Jesus, kind of...”—I sucked in my bottom lip—“like when he was on the cross, like that.” I
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