The Harsh Truth

I pressed by body up into the corner between the large bin and the harsh brick wall. I wrapped myself up and made myself as small as possible. I tried to slow my breathing down so I wouldn’t be heard. The footsteps got closer and closer. Their going to the bin. Help. I froze. I just stopped. I heard the bin open and then things clamber down the bottom of the bin. Another clang and it was shut. I jumped on hearing the second clang. I heard two foot steps, I peered out trying to move as little as possible. A man was crouching down in front of me. He was smiling, but not a creepy, I can do things to you kind of smile. No. This was a welcoming smile. A warm one. What is this man doing. Nobody cares about things that might ruin their lives. Right. I moved my head so that my whole face was looking at him. I sat there waiting. Waiting for something to happen.

"Are you ok?"

I kept quiet. Maybe he will leave me. Its strange when we are so use to the world ignoring us and giving us no help we hide when help does come our way.

"Stay here" He got up and went back into the building of which he came from in the first place. It went through my head to run away. Run as far as I can, as fast as I can, but I couldn’t leave. Its like my feet are welded to the spot. I cowered away as the unknown man walked back.

"I'm not going to hurt you, please, you look like you need some help" He put a jacket over my shoulders. He tried to help me up. Slowly I managed to control my limbs and stood up. Any person would be better than what I left. Right? I walked slowly and quietly following the man. I don’t know where I was going or if he truly was going to help. I just want to forget what happened. A restart on my life. A clean slate, something with no past. The man, who was a few steps in front, stopped and took out a key. He opened a door and told me to go in. Warning sounds were going off in my head, its too good to be true, why would someone want to help me. A worthless, useless unimportant waste of space. I heard the door slam shut. Trapped. No way out. I stood there waiting to be struck or worse.