Teenager in torment

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Doris Merryweather ran as fast as her pretty young legs could carry her, but she couldn't seem to outdistance the man who chased her through New York's Central Park.

"Hold it! Wait a second, Goddammit!" the tall, lanky man shouted as he took long, bold strides. He was gaining on her fast.

The pretty, well developed teen-age girl knew that she was in big trouble. Why hadn't she listened to her Uncle Melvin? she thought. Her Uncle Melvin had told her never to take the shortcut through Central Park. But, Doris had foolishly disobeyed him. Now, she was in big trouble. She glanced around nervously as she ran from her pursuer, hoping to catch sight of someone – anyone – who might save her. She cursed herself for being so naive and reckless.

The stranger was right behind her. He cursed at Doris: "Fucking bitch! Stop, for Christ's sake!" Reaching out with a long and powerful arm, he grabbed Doris by her sleeve. She spun around and her thin silk blouse ripped. For an instant, she lost her balance and fell to her knees. She was back on her feet in a hurry. She started to run again, took two steps, then felt the man's fist slamming hard into the back of her bead. She saw stars and fell. The ground seemed to reach up and envelop her.

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