Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-36815674-20181014182908

Ok guys, be gentle. LOL I worked my butt off on this. Tell me what it needs. I'm very proud of this story.

I can feel the tightness of my shoe laces as my feet hit the concrete underneath me. The smell of food carts makes my stomach rumble as I pass by each block.

I can feel myself getting closer and closer, with every step I take. I can't fight the urge inside my head, I scream.

I can see my reflection out of my peripheral as I pass by the shop windows. My head feels like its splitting in to, I scream once more.

The smell of her perfume hits my nose. as I splash into a puddle. I'm getting closer. I can see her.

Her glowing red hair bouncing with ever step she takes. She looks back at me, I think she noticed me, she's within my grasp I can feel it.

I inch closer and closer with every step. The smell of her floral perfume and her bright red hair rips into my soul, she's mine.

She trips over the curb, grabbing the trash can to help break her fall. She tries standing up but falls right back down. Her foot is broken. She's mine.

As I'm approaching her, I pull a six-inch knife from the band of my sock. I slide it into her stomach, pulling it up to tear her flesh into.

As she lays on the cool pavement of blood, the Manhattan moonlight shines on her face, and the urge I had is now gone. 