You’d done it. You’d finally escaped.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt the cool breeze on your skin. But, right now, that was the least of your worries.

You’d been stumbling down an empty street for what felt like hours, the pain of a broken ankle shooting up your calf, though your adrenaline did wonders to soothe it.

A bright light came into view, someone’s porch light, setting the dull street into a slight glimmer. You follow it like a moth to a flame, practically crawling up the steps to the front door.

You knock loudly, frantically, hoping to gain the attention of whoever might be behind the door. Luckily, it doesn’t take long before the door creaks open.

The man, clearly tired, was about to brush you off. That was until he noticed the state you’re in.

“Woah, hey, hey. Take a deep breath. What happened to you?” He asks as his hands go to your forearms, giving you something to hold onto, a look of concern etched onto his face.