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RORY
I staredout at the river, wondering if there was a black-market way to receive a new identity. The water moved rapidly, and the heavy grayness in the sky was accompanied by a miserable, chilly drizzle.
The movies made the black market sound soreal. I’d googled it, but all that had done was make me paranoid the government was going to send someone after me just for looking it up. If it was real, finding it wasn’t as simple as searching the internet. Not for me, at least.
My phone buzzed, and I didn’t have to look down to know who the text was from, or what it would say.
I looked down anyway.
Allen
Where are you?
Letting out a long, quiet sigh, I closed my eyes.
There had been red flags.
So many red flags.
Sodamnmany red flags.
But I’d been lonely, and he’d paid attention to me.
So, I made myself colorblind. The red was green, and I insisted to myself that everything would work out.
I’d been wrong, obviously.
And it had gotten me trapped in an abusive relationship.
I’d tried to leave… and he had chased me.
Repeatedly.
If I tried to leave again, there was a good chance I wouldn’t survive it.
My parents and older sister were held captive by their drug addictions, so they wouldn’t help me unless I offered them money. And unfortunately, Allen controlled that, too.
I had nothing, and no one.
Even if my google search had brought me to the black market, I wouldn’t have been able to pay for the new life I needed.
My phone buzzed again.
And again.
And again.
I fought the urge to throw it into the damn river.
The texts were more of his usual:
Allen
Who are you with?
What are you doing?
