Magical Challenges-Prologue: Impossible Survival

I couldn't have survived. I shouldn't have survived. It was entirely impossible that I could've survived. The chances of it were slimmer than origami paper. But I had.
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My feet pounded out a fast-paced rhythm on the tile as I fled from him. I ran toward the door, pressing my legs to move faster than ever, but he was faster. Stronger. He jerked me back by my wrist, and shut the door with a bang. A bead of nervous sweat slid down my temple as I clutched my throbbing wrist.2

I stood in the center of the room, cowering away from his shadow. He sneered down at me through grimy lips. His muscular arms were at his side, ready to crush my bones if I so much as moved an inch toward the door. His hand reached for the gun strapped to his side.3

"Let's not hurry, now," he said with malevolent elation. "I'll make it more painful." I shivered as his breath, laden with alcohol and cigarette smoke, washed over me in dirty waves. He took another step toward me, slowly pulling out his gun. He contemplated using it, then an evil plan hatched, and he put it back. He started slamming his fist menacingly into his palm. 4

"Why?" I forced the question through my frozen lips, and it came out as a hoarse whisper. He grinned and didn't answer, although he kept coming toward me. I braced myself for whatever was coming.5

His fist flew toward me so fast, I barely saw it coming as he struck my stomach with such force, I flew backwards into the white wall, crashing painfully into the cement bricks. I slid down, slumping on the floor, agonizing pain washing over me. My fingers gripped my stomach so hard that the knuckles turned yellowish-white, as if that could ease this pain.6

I could hear his feet coming toward me, and he took a fistful of my blond hair. He pulled me up by my hair and threw me across the room, and I hit the floor, sliding down the linoleum floor and crashing into the other wall.
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"Are you feeling it yet?" He growled at me. "Are you feeling the pain?" The moment his gruff voice said it, he took my wrist and slowly twisted it until a sickening crack echoed through the empty white room. I screamed in agony as the pain shot through my arm like lightning bolts. My eyes watered, and through the haze of tears and pain I saw him striding toward me, a wicked grin across his face. I knew my final moments had begun. I was going to die tonight.8

He took me by my bad arm and dragged me to my feet, ignoring my gasps. He held on to my hand with an iron grasp as he swung my screaming self around and around. Then he let go, and I flew into another white-washed wall, bouncing off and landing on my hands and knees. I panted as he came forth for another strike. He chuckled.9

I heard him pull his gun out of his belt, and he readied it with a click. He came slowly, pointing it at me. "Up!" He commanded. I pushed myself up off the ground and limped toward the wall, frantically groping for something, anything, to hold on to. My breath came in short, frightened pants as it finally sank in. I was fourteen. And I was going to die. He grinned as if he could read my thoughts. 10

He strode toward me and pressed his gun to the side of my head. He lifted his other hand up to my face and stroked it like a lover might, which only made me feel sick. He moved the gun down slowly, tracing the contours of my neck. A bead of sweat trickled down my face as I imagined to the best of my ability what would happen if he shot me there. But his hand kept moving it lower, lower, until the point was pressed up against my chest. 11

"Such a pretty face," he said, and I forced down the bile that I felt rising up my throat. "Such a shame." I opened my mouth to ask a question, but the words stuck to my throat, refusing to come out. 12

"What's a shame?" I finally gasped, hoping in vain that he would tell me something. He shook his head, and I knew that I would never know. I savored my last pained breaths. Then, he pulled the trigger.
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In my last moments, time passed as in slow motion. I felt the silver bullet tear through me, crimson blood exploding from me. I collapsed onto the red-stained carpet and took one last gulp of air. And then, I should have died. 14