I throw my bedroom door open and run in quickly. I open my drawers and grab all that can fit in my bag. I need to get out of here, he's probably after me right now. He might've already found me. I walk over to my closet, grab a sweater and some shoes and shove them on.
After running around the house, I can't move anymore without having some water. It'll cost me some time but if I wanna keep going at this speed, I need something to help me from passing out on the floor. I run into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. I guzzle it down and throw the glass into the sink, not caring whether or not it smashes into a million pieces. I feel more active so I continue packing my bag, making sure to slide one of my big kitchen knives and as much money as I can find into the front pocket.
Right before I walk out of my house, someone bangs on the door with a force that could knock it off of its hinges. I stumble backwards and his voice booms through the apartment, "I know you're in there, Hillary. Open the damn door!"
I try to be as silent as possible as I move toward the bathroom. My footsteps are light but there are certain spots that creak and I pause. There's no way he could have heard me over the noise he's making by banging on the door. But in case he did, I try to make my footsteps even lighter. I make it to the bathroom and lock the door behind me. There's a window at the other end of the room. I make my way over to it and open it slowly.
I toss my bag out of the window and prop myself up by the toilet before swinging my legs up and over the side on the windowsill. I get ready to jump when I look down and freeze. This bathroom is on the second floor of the building. I hold my breath and close my eyes.
You can do this Hillary, I think.
I hear him slam hard on the door and a huge crash follows. He's inside. It's just a matter of time before he breaks down this door too. I open my eyes and jump. The impact of the ground meeting my feet makes me cry out in pain. I search for my bag and pick it up when I find it laying under the tree at the side of my building. I take a few seconds to throw the bag over my shoulder and look back at my bathroom window. He's up there, staring down at me and shouting, "I'll get you, Hillary! You can't run forever!"
I look in front of me and start running. "Wanna bet?" I said under my breath as I made my way to the nearest bus station. I run for what seems like forever, slowing my pace only when crossing streets. Damn me, damn me for refusing that car from my parents. I could've used that now. And damn me for getting involved with Andrew's crap. I never should've helped him.
I stop myself. I can't think about that now. What's done is done and I'm not going to spend whatever time I might have left dwelling on the past. I need to focus to get as far away from Blind River as possible. I look up at the board full of destinations. I can go anywhere I want: Toronto, Brampton, Cambridge... The possibilities will be endless from there. I walk up to the register and look at the woman expectantly. She raises her head and says, "How can I help you today?" in a tired voice.
"Um..." I begin. "One ticket to Toronto, please."
"That'll be twenty-five dollars," she says and extends her hand out, palm up in front of me. I reach into the front pocket of my bag and pull out the money while trying to hide the knife at the same time. I look back up at the woman and her gaze shifts back to her register quickly. She puts the money in and hands me a ticket. "You should only be waiting about ten to fifteen minutes. You can take a seat at terminal six."
"Thank you," I say after taking the ticket and I slowly make my way over to the waiting area but I don't sit. I pace back and forth in front of the glss doors. I pause for a split second and stare at the glass, noticing something different. My heart races and I turn around. He's here. Talking to the same woman I spoke to just a few minutes ago. How did he find me so quickly? I turn and hide behind the wall, peeking out just enough to see what he's doing. I squint and look closer, this would be a lot easier if I hadn't lost my glasses. He's holding a picture out for the woman to look at, probably one of me. "Shit," I whisper to myself when the woman points to the door I'm waiting at. He looks in this direction and thanks her before walking over quickly. I run away and try to find somewhere to hide, making sure to grab my bag before I leave. I hear loud footsteps behind me and I squeeze in between two doors. I crouch down behind them and listen for him to pass, holding my breath and staying as quiet as possible. When I hear him walk passed the doorway, I slip out and run in the opposite direction only to feel him catch up and grab my bag, taking it off of my back and causing me to turn around. I look up at the man and it's not long before he has his hand around my throat and I'm pinned against the wall.
"Help!" I attempt to scream but he just squeezes my throat tighter and I struggle against him with little to no force. I'm no match for him. I look down to see that he still has my bag in his hand. That bag is my only chance at survival. If only I could get the knife... I reach down for it slowly but he notices and throws it behind him on the floor.
"You're not getting away this time," he practically spits in my face. "You could've just minded your own damn business, Hillary. But no, now I have to have another death on my hands. Any last words?" he asks and grins.
"Prick," I manage to say quietly. He chuckles, making me even more enraged. I bring my knee up swiftly and nail him right in his sweet spot. I do it a few more times, each hit harder than the last. He finally lets go of me and falls down to the floor, holding his groin.
He groans and sends me a look of complete disgust. "Bitch."
I know he won't stay down long so I go over to my bag and reach into the front pocket, bringing out my kitchen knife I'm glad I packed earlier. His hands are on my back seconds later and he pushes me to the ground. I roll over quickly and look up at him as he comes down to pin me to the floor. I use everything anyone had ever told me to do in situations like these: I scratch, I bite, I kick, I punch and I slap but nothing seems to faze him until I grab the knife again. His eyes go wide and he reaches for it but I hold it away from him. He punches me in the face and my vision goes blurry. I gain my sight back seconds later. I bring my hand down quickly as he smacks me across the face and stab him in the side. He looks down at the wound and then at me. I pull the knife out and stab him again, this time in his stomach. He moves off of me and onto the floor and puts his hand over his wound in his stomach, trying to catch his breath. I move as far away as I can from him and grab my wallet from my bag. I get out a quarter and find a payphone.
I put the quarter in the machine and dial 911. "911, what's your emergency?" a lady asks from the other end.
"I, um, t-t-there's a man here who tried to kill me..." I stutter.
"Where is he now, miss?" she asks.
"I stabbed him," I state clearly. "Twice."
"Where are you?"
"Blind River bus station," I say and hang up.
