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My First Escape

Another rough excerpt:

The neighborhood was familiar, though I had no idea whose house he just went into. I sat shivering in the passenger’s seat of the car. I pushed my skirt down over the big rip in my tights that exposed my left thigh. My shoes were gone, thrown out the window somewhere along the way to this house. I ran my left hand through my hair and gently pulled a handful away from head. For a moment, I stared at the tiny pieces of my scalp attached at the ends, and then, not wanting to drop it on the floor of my own car, I rolled my window down enough to toss it into the wind. I wanted to disappear into the wind. Instead, my tongue found my stinging, swollen upper lip. I tasted blood. The gash my tooth had opened from the smack to my face last night was open again. To this day, I have a scar.

My thoughts went to where he said he was going to take me, and what he was going to do to me. I’m going to die today. I don’t want to die.

I looked around the neighborhood. Though it was just before noon, it was deserted. I wondered how long it would take for him to buy more drugs. Should I leap from the car and take off running? Should I knock on someone’s door? What if no one is home? Would anyone be able to protect me from him? I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t move. He had hissed, “Don’t move,” before he left the car. I knew the minute I opened the door to run, he would walk out of that house. And then I saw them. Keys. He left the keys in the ignition. Without any hesitation, I climbed into the driver’s seat. I am not going to die today.

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