Becky Duarte: Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Becky stepped from the bathroom and shuddered. She felt tired all of a sudden, and cold. The air conditioning in the plane must have been up pretty high, either that or she was coming down with something. She sincerely hoped it was the former.

As she walked along the aisle back to her seat she saw two men engaged in what seemed like an argument. One of them poked the other hard in the ribs and earned a reflexive slap in the face knocking his glasses slightly askew. The instigator then proceeded to take off his glasses and smack his face off the chair, breaking his nose. Becky stood there in shock and stared at them both.

"This man just assaulted me!" the guy with glasses cried and the other man looked up at her pleadingly. "You saw, I didn't do anything, you'll vouch for me wont you? If they arrest me and if it comes to a court of law... wont you?"

Becky thought about having to stand up and talk in front of a whole load of people, she thought about the dry feeling in her mouth, the man in front of her expecting an answer and she did the first thing that came into her head. She ran.

Becky threw herself into a seat next to a woman who looked as though she was trying to sleep. Good, nobody will try and talk to me now. She thought gratefully.

"Hi, are you ok? You look a little flushed." Becky froze and turned to look at the woman beside her with wide frightened eyes. "What's wrong?" the woman looked suddenly concerned. "Did someone hurt you? Why do you look so scared?"

Becky felt herself drowning in all these questions. "I j...just s..s..saw a f...falsely ac..accused o..of a...assa...assault b..but I c..can't h..him c..cos I..I c...can't sp..sp..spe..speak" and then Becky put her head in her hands and began to cry.

The End

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