Alive (One Direction)

two

"Fuck, just come out already. I'm not going to hurt you."

The stranger draws closer to my hiding spot as I dare to draw breath again.

I consider stepping out into the deserted street.

Just to tell him off. To tell him to leave me alone.

Clearly, I'm fine.

Fuck, just leave already.

He has been following me for ten whole minutes, possibly an hour.

He seems determined, like he won't stop until he finds me.

It's like he's a demon, and he won't stop haunting my poor, damaged spirit.

What does he want from me? Is it because of what I did?

"Why the hell do I keep wasting my goddamn time?" He mutters, kicking aside a cardboard box with food rations.

I wonder the same damned thing. Why doesn't he just leave me bleeding on a sidewalk and just forget about me entirely?

That's what I'd like to know.

Is this man mental, or just insane?

Because no guy just runs after a girl, let alone one he doesn't know.

Or one that would clearly ruin his life, and possibly his 'high, important reputation' he seems to hold.

I can tell from the way he walks, the way he talks.

He won't hurt me, but he won't leave me alone either.

No, he's just way too important to not know absolutely everything.

Go away.

I don't care who he is.

I don't need him. Not to survive. Not to be turned in.

"Fine, I'm leaving." He snaps finally, turning sharply in my direction.

But it's not like he knows.

"Happy now?" He yells at me indirectly, spitting from his high-maintanced mouth.

Very.

I wait ten more seconds after he's gone before disappearing into another alleyway, far away from mine. It's in the more central part of town, where-

"What are you doing here, little girl?"

"Come to have some fun?"

There is an evil smirk plastered on one of the older men's wrinkled face, another making a lunge for me.

Shit. I've tresspassed onto uncharted territory.

He has a firm grip on me, nearly pinning me down before my weak brain can fully process what's happening. The other draws closer until his hand nearly grabs one of my inner thighs.

"HARRY!" I scream the first name that comes to mind, one of that well-kept, innocent young man, barely loud enough to produce any sound.

Both homeless men drop their grips on me to cover their ears, expecting a much louder scream, and in the split second he releases me I'm runnning again.

I don't look back as I run forward, and my eyes squeeze shut out of exhaustion.

Never have I ran so fast, my heart thumping loud, louder than ever before.