Run.

I sprinted into the night.

Right, Left, Right, and Left again.

My feet stomped against the sidewalk.

Clutching my arm in pain.

Praying he would never find me.

I dashed into the city.

Tears threatening to stream down my face.

I gritted my teeth to keep back a scream of fury and agony.

Running about half-way into the city,

I huffed and collapsed into an alley.

It was dark.

The rain poured.

Shivering, I pulled back my hoodie.

The cut was glistening with crimson.

After grabbing my toolbox for a first aid kit, pulling out the disinfectant, then began to treat the wound properly.

When I had finished wrapping it, I gently put my hoodie back on and sighed.

Sniffing, I swallowed pain killers.

They left a soothing on my mouth.

Organizing my first aid kit, I placed it into its special spot into my dark grey backpack.

Inside neatly placed was 4 days worth of clothes, some food, water, hygienic instruments, my medications, my life savings, a radio, a childhood stuffed animal (named Crimson Red), and an extra binder.

Binder?

You may ask.

Yes.

A simple device that makes your chest flat.

...

I'm bigender.

(They/Them)

That's why.

When I finished making sure I had all my stuff.

I crawled into a damp paper box for shelter.

I thought about a few hours ago.