baby [h.s.]

one

            It was late.

            Here in London, it was two in the morning, and instead of being tucked into bed, I was running through the dark streets with puffy, tear-stained cheeks and runny mascara. It had been a rough night.

            I didn’t know whether to look at the events in a good or bad light.

            I had escaped from my abusive boyfriend, which was definitely a move in my favor, but he was after me. And if there was one thing he knew well, it was the streets of London.

            I, on the other hand, was far beyond lost in this maze of dimly lit concrete pathways.

            Cars occasionally flew past me, but for the most part, everything was dead. It had been half an hour since I left Parker’s. I left before he could even react to my announcement.

            “We’re through,” I had snapped, tears stinging my eyes. His eyes narrowed.

            “What the fuck did you just say to me, Tilly?” he had said. His tone was practically venomous.

            “I’m done with you, Parker, you bastard!” I left after that. I ran until I couldn’t breathe because I knew he was close behind.

            I twisted and turned through these streets, trying to lose him, but I never thought about how I would get back.

            So there I was.

            My phone was off. I knew he was blowing it up, trying to find me. I didn’t want to see the messages.

            I looked around, chewing my lip. I couldn’t call anyone; I wasn’t going to turn on my phone. My best bet was to stand beside the road and maybe catch a cab. I had a few pounds in my pocket; I could make it to somewhere I was familiar with.

            So, that’s what I did. I shuffled up to a bench on the curb of the road I was walking along. I sat there for a while; just hoping that Parker wouldn’t pull up.

            He never did. But, unfortunately, a cab never did either.

            It was about every twenty seconds that a car would pass. I got so anxious that I had to calm my nerves down by counting the cars.

            I had reached forty-eight when somebody came to a halt in front of me, when my heart just about stopped.

            It was an expensive-looking car. The sleek-black car’s window rolled down to reveal a man I did not know.

            I blew out a breath of relief immediately. It wasn’t Parker.

            The man’s jaw was clenched. He had long, messy, brown curls that were strewn everywhere, only managed by a backward, flat-brim cap. His plump, pink lips pursed as he looked at me with narrowed green eyes.

            I blinked at him. I was confused. It almost looked like neither of us knew why he stopped.

            He had pulled off of the main part of the road to stop, so he wasn’t blocking traffic. We just stared at each other for a moment.

            Finally, I decided to speak up.

            “Excuse me, sir?” My voice was raspy from the frigid air around me. “Could I, uh, get some directions? I’m quite lost.”

            “What’s your name?” he said, ignoring my question. His voice was deep, almost slow, and raspy. His facial expression remained the same; he seemed focused.

            “I, um, Tilly,” I replied. I shifted in my seat on the bench uncomfortably. He didn’t say anything.

            I looked around as I waited for his response. The streetlights seemed dimmer than they did before and the cracked concrete sidewalk remained empty. The street felt lonely, just like me.

            “Get in the car,” he finally spoke. I looked at him immediately, my eyes wide.

            “E-excuse me?” I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

            “I’ll give you a lift, Tilly,” he said. I hesitated and he sighed. “Come on, then, get in,”

            It could’ve been my lack of sleep, or maybe just my need for somebody to talk to. I’m still not sure what it was. But, whatever it was, it made me want to get in that car.

            And that’s just what I did.

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that's right losers i started a new story. i'm digging this one but i have no idea what i'm doing w it lmao i'm a hot mess.

love ya

becca xx