Dangerous Woman (Daniel Ricciardo)

One

Jessica took a deep, shaking breath as she stared down at the floor outside her window. She knew deep down that this was a bad idea, not just jumping out of her window, but actually leaving the house. She'd never had any human interaction before, except for her mother and father. And now she was going to run away for the weekend and try and make her way to the track circuit.

Jessica gripped the bag straps over her shoulder tighter; she had spent as much as the day as she could preparing, making notes on the best way to get there, using a location app on her phone to give her a rough idea of where she currently was. Sure her parents had stopped her from becoming a secret agent, but she had watched enough action films to get the idea of what to do, no matter how fictional those shows were.

Was she ready for this?

Yes. This would be her only chance, if she did this now it would be the only time. When she returned home, her parents would be even more strict, her privileges would be taken away. But she wanted this. She needed this.

"Okay..." She murmured to herself. "You can do this." And with a deep breath she jumped down from the ledge. Bend your knees. Bend your knees.

At this point, Jessica would tell her future children that she landed swiftly, like an expert. In reality, she'd never done anything as extravagant as this, and some would call it karma that she just happened to sprain her ankle in the landing.

"Ow! Ow, shit! Fuck!" Jessica swore as she grabbed her ankle, leaning against the tree to take deep breaths, waiting for the initial, hot surging pain to dimmer.

One minute passed.

Two minutes passed.

Jessica took a harsh breath knowing that she didn't have that kind of time to stand around, she had to get moving before her mother came looking.

--

Three hours had passed since 'Operation Get A Life' had begun. And Jessica was regretting it. It was hot, like ridiculously hot and she'd drunk all of her water, and with no money (who needs money if you never go anywhere to spend it) and a sprained ankle, she knew she had to go back.

She was crying. Jessica wasn't sure at what point she had started to cry but she knew she hadn't stopped. She was a mess. Both emotionally and in her physical appearance. Tears were mixed with sweat, along with smeared blood from a graze on her check. Her hair was in a messy bun, wet with sweat. And most of all, she was tired. She wanted to go home. Except at this point, she didn't know the way home.

Oh what a bad idea this was.

--

Somehow, amongst all odds, she had made it.

Jessica was there. Where tomorrow F1 cars would be speeding around. At the moment however in the dark night, there was just drunkards.

But she had made it. However, she hadn't really worked out what she was going to do next.

Jessica grabbed onto her backpack straps tighter, paranoia and fear constricting her chest. Never before in her life had she been around so many people, never been around alcohol. She was scared. No, petrified even. And not for the first time that day did Jessica think of how bad this idea was.

Dodging people and their elbows, Jessica gripped onto the railings as she limped down the road, a fresh set of tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. She wanted to go home. She was done, she couldn't take it anymore. This feeling of being lost, scared, she didn't like it. Nobody probably likes it, she thought. As much as she hated her house, where she lived every day locked away, it was safe. Annoying, tiresome and stressful, but safe. She knew what to expect at the house. There was routine. Order. Not this chaos she'd willingly thrown herself into.

Jessica's chest constricted, her breath coming out in short, sharp intakes. Jessica clenched a fist around her t-shirt, where her lungs where, her other hand digging harder into the fence. Her vision blurred, darkness filling the corners as she sunk to the ground.

Why. Why did she do this to herself. Her parents, they must be loosing their minds wondering where she had gone. They must have thought that their worst nightmare had come true and that she had been taken by whatever or whoever they were running from. Selfish. That's what she was, she was selfish. She wanted to run away. She wanted to be free for one day. She's worried her parents crazy, made them think of all the dreadful things that could have happened to her when in reality she was just being selfish. Taking what she couldn't have. What she wasn't allowed. What she perhaps didn't deserve. Or had they not even noticed? Did they even care? Maybe this was easier for them. They didn't have to be concerned with looking over their shoulders, making sure no one knew where they lived. Maybe this was easier for them. Easier. Less worries. Better. Better for her to be lost into the abyss of this world.

"Hey! Hey, you okay?" Someone crouched down in front of her, the white searing light of the setting sun blocked. Australian. Jessica could tell by the accent. She didn't dare open her eyes. Couldn't open her eyes with the lack of oxygen coursing through her right now.

Her first interaction with someone other than her parents. How was she supposed to respond? She couldn't respond, the words caught in her chest along with her breath. If she could, what would she say? No, I've ran away from home like an angsty teenager. Yes, I'm fine. Please just leave me alone. I want to go home. Take me home. I can't breathe. Help me. All the possibilities and all she could do was splutter out a chocked breath.

"Hold your breath for five seconds and then let a slow deep breath out." Muttered the voice from the mystery guy in front of her.

Jessica hadn't ever met another person except her mother and father and she knew from watching TV and films about the whole 'stranger danger' concept. But if this particular stranger was so dangerous...why would he be helping her? So instead, Jessica went against every fibre of her being telling her to run away from this guy, and she listened.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Jessica let her breath out, repeated it several times over as she start to feel the calming effect of the process.

If only it could fix her worry about opening her eyes and seeing whomever was in front of her.