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DECEMBER 18th
8:23 P.M.
She was out of breath.
Taylor didn't think she could keep running much longer.
But she couldn’t stop either.
So, she ran, praying she could get far enough away before he came for her. She was sure he must know that she was gone by now. He could be looking for her.
That thought was enough to keep her pushing through the pain to keep moving.
With each step, her right leg throbbed like it was on fire. It was too soon to be running on the broken bone, but it wasn't like she had a choice. She could do nothing and stay where she was and wait like a good little girl to be murdered, or she could run for her life; and if she caused her body more damage in the process, at least she’d be alive.
It was dark out and cold. She thought about flagging down one of the cars whose headlights periodically bathed her in light, but she was afraid. What if it washim? Taylor knew he’d be looking for her; she was his prize possession and he wouldn’t want to give her up until he was finished with her.
She didn't know where she was going.
She didn't know when she was going to stop running.
If it were possible to never stop, then she would probably keep running for the rest of her life. It felt so good to be able to move freely again after so long in that tiny room. All this open space around her was both exhilarating and terrifying. In a way, she had become used to her room, as much as she hated it. It had offered some weird sort of comfort. She knew what to expect, she knew when to expect it, and she knew what she had to do tosurvive.
Now she was free.
Anything could happen to her.
The man might jump out and grab her at any second. He could be waiting around any corner. He could be lurking behind any car or tree she passed. He could be following along behind her just waiting for her to stop so he could pounce.
Or she could go running into the arms of another bad man. There were so many out there. She’d never thought about it before; her life had always been so safe, so controlled, so peaceful. Although she knew there were evil people in the world and that people were hurt every single day, it never felt real because it’d never touched her personally.
Now, it did.
Now she had been initiated into the darkness.
She could never go back.
Her life would never be the same.
The pain in her leg was intensifying with each step she took. Her breath was wheezing in and out—she hadn’t exercised in months, and she was out of shape. She was also starting to feel a little light-headed. She probably wasn't going to be able to keep going much longer, and then what?
What would she do?
Should she try to hide?
That didn't seem like much of a long-term solution. She couldn’t hide forever. She needed to eat, and it was cold out. Besides, hiding in some small, stuffy little space felt too much like returning to the very situation she had just escaped.
Should she try to find help?
Right now, Taylor couldn’t imagine trusting a stranger enough to go up to them and tell them what had happened to her and ask them to drive her to the nearest police station.
Maybe she should look for a police station herself.
Or even a hospital or a fire station would do.
If she knew where she was, she could try to get to one of her friends’ houses or maybe even her brother’s.
Her pace was slowing. Now she was doing more fast walking than slow running. To anyone who saw her she couldn’t look like she was just out for an evening walk or jog because she was wearing an ankle-length, white cotton dress, and her feet were bare. It was clear she didn't belong out here on this icy cold night dressed like this, and yet no one stopped to help her.
