English Original
It was mid-winter. After staying late at school for dance rehearsal, I decided to walk home despite offers of a ride. By 7:30 PM, it was pitch dark.
Twenty minutes into my walk, I reached a notoriously dangerous alley leading to my house. Street lamps were on as I entered. About a quarter of the way down, a paranoid urge made me look back. I saw a tall, strangely familiar figure in a top hat and a fanned-out coat. Fear gripped me when I spotted what looked like a long knife in his hand. I quickened my pace, careful not to run. When I looked back again, he was gone.
Relieved, I thought it was my imagination. But as I turned back, the same figure stood right in front of me, much closer. I could see the details of his clothes and knife clearly. A chilling realization hit me: it was the infamous Jack the Ripper. But he died long ago, didn't he? I tried to run, but my body froze. Someone grabbed my arm. Slowly turning my head, I was startled by a horrifying face: grey, bloodshot eyes with huge dark circles, burnt-looking skin, and yellow teeth with red-stained cracks.
I screamed and struggled, but he pushed me to the ground. Kneeling over me, he brought the knife close to my stomach. I felt a sharp pain as it cut my skin. Fighting back, I bit the hand over my mouth and wriggled free. I ran towards home, forgetting my dropped schoolbag. I tripped, smacking my head on the pavement. As everything faded to black, I saw his boots stop beside me. A tear fell, but I smiled, thinking I wouldn't feel the pain of mutilation.
To my surprise, I woke up in my bed the next morning. Thinking it was a dream, I sat up, only to feel a sharp pain in my stomach. Lifting my top, I saw a knife-shaped wound. My mother entered and showed me a newspaper article about a man dressed as Jack the Ripper, claiming to be his grandson, who had been attacking girls. She explained that a passerby saw me fall and scared the attacker away.
I asked if we could thank the rescuer with a card. My mother said it wasn't necessary—he was in the sitting room. I went downstairs to thank him. He was very tall. My father recounted how the man had felt seeing the attacker flee. I went to shake his hand but froze in fear when he smiled, revealing yellow teeth with red-stained cracks...
中文翻译
时值隆冬。在学校进行舞蹈排练后，尽管有同学愿意载我，我还是决定步行回家。晚上7:30，天色已一片漆黑。
走了二十分钟，我来到一条通往我家、以危险著称的小巷。我进去时路灯亮着。走了大约四分之一的路程，一阵莫名的恐惧让我回头望去。我看见一个高大、奇怪而熟悉的身影，头戴高顶礼帽，身穿下摆展开的大衣。当我发现他手中似乎拿着一把长刀时，恐惧攫住了我。我加快了脚步，小心地不跑起来。当我再次回头时，他已不见踪影。
我松了口气，以为那是自己的想象。但当我转回身，同一个身影就站在我面前，近得多。我能清晰地看到他衣服和刀的细节。一个冰冷的念头击中了我：那是臭名昭著的开膛手杰克。但他不是早就死了吗？我想跑，身体却动弹不得。有人抓住了我的胳膊。我慢慢转过头，被一张恐怖的脸吓呆了：灰色的眼睛布满血丝，带着巨大的黑眼圈，皮肤像是被烧过，黄色的牙齿上布满红色的裂纹。
我尖叫挣扎，但他把我推倒在地。他跪在我身上，将刀逼近我的腹部。刀划过皮肤时我感到一阵剧痛。我反抗着，咬了捂住我嘴的手，挣脱开来。我朝家的方向跑去，忘了掉落的书包。我绊倒了，头撞在人行道上。当一切陷入黑暗时，我看到他的靴子停在我身边。一滴眼泪滑落，但我笑了，心想我将感受不到被肢解的痛苦了。
令我惊讶的是，第二天早上我在自己的床上醒来。以为那是一场梦，我坐起身，却感到腹部一阵剧痛。掀起衣服，我看到一道刀形的伤口。母亲进来，给我看了一篇报纸文章，讲的是一个打扮成开膛手杰克、自称是其孙子的人一直在袭击女孩。她解释说，一个路人看到我摔倒，吓跑了袭击者。
我问能否寄张卡片感谢这位救命恩人。母亲说没必要——他就在客厅里。我下楼去感谢他。他个子很高。父亲讲述了他看到袭击者逃跑时的感受。我上前与他握手，但当他微笑时，我恐惧地僵住了——他露出了布满红色裂纹的黄牙……