To Die For by Kathy Braidhill

though.”
    â€œI want to see them anyway,” Dana said. “I really like this one.” It showed a group of men in vintage attire on horseback, their steeds prancing, and dogs racing around the horses’ legs. They talked about the pictures for a moment, then Dorinda turned around to put them back on the floor, and looked for another one to show her customer.
    Dorinda was still chatting when she felt something tighten around her neck. She froze for a moment, her mind going dead except for the thought that she wanted to look into the face of this person who hated her so much. As Dorinda straightened up, she saw Dana holding onto a yellow nylon rope with her left hand as her right hand pushed a slip knot toward the old woman’s neck. Dorinda instinctively reached to pull the rope from her neck, and at the same time looked directly into the eyes of the stranger attacking her, expecting hatred and finding none. She saw no emotion, only a look of determination that she had a job to do and she was going to do it. She saw no hate, no malice, no excitement, no hint of a drug-crazed gleam. Just a look like she had killed before.
    â€œLady, why are you doing this?” Dorinda managed to choke out. She thought of pulling the rope toward her, but before she could react, Dana jerked the rope violently downward and Dorinda fell to her knees, out of sight to anyone walking by or even anyone at the front of the store. Fighting for her life, Dorinda’s mind recorded many details: Her attacker had smooth skin and no make-up. The ends of the rope had been melted to prevent fraying. The six-foot-long rope was wrapped twice around her attacker’s hands for a good grip. The image of her attacker’s stony face became cemented in her memory.
    Dana tried to force Dorinda onto her stomach. Instead, Dorinda squirmed around and fell into a sitting position with her legs bent under her. With Dana still pushing her down, Dorinda managed to get one leg out in front of her, then shifted her weight to get the other leg free so both legs were extended in front of her. Dana upped the pressure on her neck, jerking the rope, and Dorinda momentarily steadied herself with her hands behind her on the floor. With as much effort as she could muster, she kicked Dana in the stomach with both feet. The first kick caught Dana off guard, but she held onto the rope. Dorinda kicked again, and Dana nimbly jumped back. It gave Dorinda enough time to slip her fingers between the rope and her neck, but it added to the pressure on her neck, so she slid her fingers out again. As she felt the rope, she realized that her attacker had turned it around so the knot was positioned on her windpipe.
    Dana’s legs were spread apart and she was leaning backward as far as she could. Dorinda tried pulling on the rope to kick her attacker off balance, but Dana stood her ground. Spotting a broom nearby, Dorinda used all her strength to drag her and Dana over to where she could grab it. Dorinda rose slightly off the floor with one hand, lunging at Dana with the broom in the other, jabbing Dana in the chest. Dana dodged her second attempt as Dorinda’s strength faltered and the yellow-handled broom fell uselessly out of her hands and landed on top of her. The last attempt sapped Dorinda’s endurance and her consciousness lapsed. When she awoke again, Dana was on top of her with one foot on her chest for leverage.
    â€œLady, why are you doing this to me?” Dorinda asked again. Dana’s only answer was to pull the rope tighter.
    â€œBrian!” Dorinda cried for the shop clerk next door. “Brian!” Her voice came out in a futile whisper, a silent scream in a living nightmare.
    â€œBe quiet!” Dana said in a calm voice.
    â€œOh God! I never wanted to die like this! Please don’t kill me! I’ve got eight kids!” Dorinda pleaded with Dana. Dorinda wasn’t sure that her attacker could even hear her speak or