“Give us your money NOW,” the gun started moving from person to person demanding money and valuables. Seeing as I was now hostage, my friends were completely stunned by what was transpiring they began to comply but not completely; handing over their wallets and money. Once more the gun repeated.

“Give us the shit,” He yelled again, while pulling up the bandana which had slipped down over his nose revealing his face.

Again everyone stood dumbfounded to the question. At this point I could feel the blade digging into my throat and I would push my head further back into his chest to try to lessen the pressure on my neck he responded by pushing even harder. I had one hand wrapped around his wrist trying to control the knife; my other was in my pant pocket gripping a mechanical pencil between my index and middle fingers. In as bad a spot I was I wanted to kill him.

The man with the gun finally must have realized none of us knew what he was talking about. So he made his way to the couch and picked up the DVD player off the television and placed it under his arm. Moving the guns aim from person to person he slowly made his way back to door.

Every time my heart pulsed it pushed my neck deeper into the blade. The signal was made; he released me from his lock. He pushed me aside and stepped towards the door, turning then lunging towards me with the blade once. They turned towards the door and ran, they ran full sprint.