La vie est belle

Agraphobia

Fear of sexual abuse

I ran as fast as my little feet could carry me out of his basement.

It felt I haven't walked in years. My feet ached, my stomach churned, and the sunlight I've been picturing in my memory burned my eyes.

He trusted me so much, he'd leave me there for days, not expecting me to leave. I took the opportunity.

I was trying to remember the street names I've been practicing on. I found a map hidden in part of the broken crack in the wall, stuffed in the insulation. Probably from his last suspect, I despised him.

I caught the weird glances people gave me while I ran down their street, barefoot and dirty. I saw the building in my sight, the police station.

I kept running, even though I'm pretty sure I bent my big toe. I knew it be crazy to find a girl, half naked, dirty and scruffy walking into a police station, but I need help.