"Drive, you bastard - drive!" he yelled at me.The chatting in the back of the Renault stopped instantly and I felt my mouth opening and closing. Ahead...of us, and unseen by me, the lights turned green but all I could concentrate on was that gun; we didn't move. The youth rammed the pistol painfully into my forehead as he shouted that he'd kill me if I didn't get going immediately. Looking back on it now, I have to saw that it's rather odd that in most stories like this, the narrator now tells. She stared at the words. An address, unfamiliar but she knew roughly where it was. It took a long while before she could take her eyes off the piece of paper, the words written, swimming in her head. She knew she wouldn’t need the paper, she had learned the address by heart. But she would keep it with her, it would be just like her to forget. The time ticked by. The clock seemed to move more and more slowly, until five o’clock finally arrived. She gathered up her things, just her coat and her. More

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