Mr Johnson could well be true to his word and come back and buy her but at least he was gone for now. Ever since she could remember she had been wary of the creepy little man who always seemed to be looking at her as if undressing her, even from the earliest age.
“Shit, shit shit” Tracey heard the butcher beside her shouting before he suddenly ran towards the plastic sheeting and beyond leaving Tracey stood there watching the dying or dead girl carry on another few feet on the conveyor until another knife, this one much larger, suddenly shot out and sliced the girls head off in one clean swipe.
