Runaway

A Harsh Reality

A few days passed in Rhonda's cramped apartment, and Jess quickly realized her initial hopes about the woman's hospitality may have been naive. While Rhonda meant well in her own way, she led a chaotic lifestyle that made Jess feel more uncomfortable by the day.

There always seemed to be a revolving door of Rhonda's sketchy acquaintances coming and going at all hours. Burly men with tattoos and pit-stained wife beaters, scantily clad women with heavy makeup caked on, shady-looking types who eyed Jess with undisguised interest. The air was perpetually hazy with cigarette smoke and something darker, more chemical.

Rhonda herself grew increasingly unpredictable, drinking heavily and often slipping out late at night, only to return in the wee hours bleary-eyed and foul-tempered. Her initial reassurances about "getting Jess squared away" never really amounted to anything beyond vague platitudes.

On the fourth night, Jess jolted awake from a fitful sleep on the lumpy couch as the front door slammed. Muffled laughter and indistinct conversation filtered in from the hallway before Rhonda came stumbling into the room. She wasn't alone.

"Well, well...lookit this!" She giggled, drunkenly pawing at the tall, wiry man who had accompanied her inside. His sunken eyes raked over Jess beneath the greasy brim of his baseball cap. "My little runaway's still crashed out, Chaz. How 'bout that?"

"Heyyy...what's good, sweetheart?" The man leered at Jess, giving her a queasy once-over. He reeked of stale beer and desperation.

Jess quickly averted her eyes, panic fluttering in her chest as she pulled the thin blanket tighter around herself. Rhonda flopped down heavily on the sofa beside her, leaning in entirely too close.

"You know, kid, you really do gotta start pitchin' in around here. Not bein' a freeloader and all." Her alcohol-soaked breath made Jess' stomach turn.

"I - I'm sorry, I don't...I don't have any money or anything," Jess stammered, shrinking away from Rhonda's sloppy proximity.

The woman snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Who said anythin' 'bout cash money? Ol' Rhonda's got other ways for a sweet young thing like you to pitch in..."

Her meaty hand landed on Jess' thigh, giving it a squeeze as her tongue poked out in a wet grin. Revulsion coursed through Jess as she flinched away violently.

"The hell, Rhonda? I thought we was gonna have a little fun with -" The scruffy man started, but Rhonda just waved him off sloppily.

"Cool your jets, Chazzy. You'll get a taste soon enough if she cooperates, dig?" She winked at him before turning back to Jess, who felt frozen in abject horror. "What'd'ya say, kiddo? You wanna stick around, get square with Rhonda? I'll set you up real nice!"

Bile rose in Jess' throat as she registered the full implications. How could she have been so stupid? So desperate? This was the soul-crushing trap she'd fled into by running away, all to escape her own home's turmoil.

"N-no...nonono, please, I can't..." She shook her head frantically, tears streaming as she grabbed her backpack with shaking hands. She had to get out, out of this hellish place, away from Rhonda and that slimeball Chaz with his vile gaze.

Lurching up from the couch, Jess bolted for the door despite Rhonda's drunken protests. She shoved past the burly Chaz, ignoring his crude taunts as she sprinted down the stairwell, out of the building and back into the oppressive night.

Chest heaving, Jess ran until her legs burned and the stitch in her side became unbearable. When she finally slowed in some deserted industrial lot, she ducked into the shadows and huddled in a shaking ball, sobs of disgust and fear wracking her body.

This is what it had come to? The very worst kinds of horrors awaited runaways like her out here. She'd made yet another disastrous mistake following Rhonda, putting herself in grave jeopardy once again.

But where could she possibly go now? She didn't have a dime, no family or friends in this city to turn to. Just an innocence and naivete that was quickly being shattered.

As Jess cried into her hands, the sounds of the inner city surrounded her - traffic, distant sirens, shouting voices. She'd never felt more alone and helpless than she did in that moment.

Jess stayed huddled in that desolate lot for what felt like hours, her body wracked with shuddering sobs until she was all cried out. The shock and disgust slowly gave way to an overwhelming sense of despair and hopelessness.

She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to in this unforgiving city. Her impetuous decision to run away had left her utterly alone and vulnerable on the harsh streets. How could she have been so naive?

As the night wore on, the sounds of the city seemed to grow more ominous - wild shouting, the squeal of tires, the occasional shattering of glass. Jess pulled her knees tighter to her chest, trying not to imagine what kind of depraved acts those noises could be accompanying.

Despite her exhaustion, she knew she couldn't fall asleep out here. Who knew what fresh horror might befall her in such an exposed state? No, she would have to force herself to stay awake, stay alert and watchful as long as her body permitted.

The first faint tendrils of dawn began seeping through the industrial skyline when Jess finally emerged from her huddled ball, her limbs stiff and achy. She wiped her cheeks on the sleeve of her hoodie, a dull headache throbbing behind her eyes.

Slowly, achingly, she pushed herself up to stand on wobbly legs. She dragged her feet towards the street, squinting against the steadily increasing morning light. She cut a pitiful figure, shoulders slumped beneath her heavy pack, filthy hair hanging in tangled strands over her pale, hollowed face.

Where to go now? Her stomach twisted painfully – when was the last time she'd eaten? She couldn't even remember. All she knew was that she needed to get off these empty streets before the city came alive again. But her safe options were rapidly dwindling.

Up ahead, a sight made her freeze in her tracks: a solitary church rose against the smoggy skyline, its stone steeple piercing the heavens like a beckoning finger. The intricate stained glass windows glowed softly with the emerging day.

Despite her growing disillusionment, that iconic image still flickered with the warm promise of sanctuary, of refuge. A shred of hope flickered in Jess' chest. Maybe... maybe there she could find some guidance, some help. Or at the very least, a moment of temporary peace and safety. It was worth a try.

Clutching her bag close, she took a steadying breath and started walking with new determination towards the church's sheltering embrace. She didn't dare let herself imagine what awful alternatives awaited if those wooden doors didn't open for her.