Something Amiss (Hoodie x Reader)

Six: Ouchie

Trigger Warning: There is a violent scene at the end of this chapter, and non-graphic mentions of sexual assault. Please be mindful and look after yourself <3

The gap was only just big enough for you to fit your frame through, but you made it work. Mortal terror made the rough chafing of brick and metal against your sides worth it. After a minute long struggle, you were tumbling to the ground on the other side of the wall. Thankfully, the ground consisted of grass and not concrete. You still fell on your side though, elbow taking the brunt of the fall. It hurt like a bitch, the impact knocking the wind out of you. The splintered end of a sharp stick prodded harshly into the squishy part of your side, drawing blood. You grunted as you levered it out of your flesh. There was now a hole in your newly bloodstained shirt, great.

Clambering to your feet, you gulped down the fresh springtime air. It was only warmish right now, but you knew that the day would heat up and you'd be sweltering by the afternoon - summer was right around the corner, after all. You got your bearings, you had landed in the park behind the library. All you knew right now was that you had to get off campus, in the opposite direction from whence you came. Straight ahead it was, then.

You pondered your next move as you power walked down the path ahead. You didn't have enough money for a hotel, and your street smarts were lacking. Going to crash on the couch of a friend would endanger whoever you chose, and you refused to do that. You didn't know the location of any homeless shelters in the area, and you couldn't go to any sort of authority. It looked like your best bet, when night fell, would be to find some secluded hideout in the concrete jungle around you and pray you survived to the end of the night. You didn't know what the man would do to you if he found you - was making a break for it going to piss him off? A part of you hoped so. Fuck that guy.

Nightfall was still hours away, though - it was barely nine thirty in the morning, though the day felt like it had already dragged on for a million hours longer. For now, wandering around a mall or someplace big and sheltered would be both entertaining and keep you in public. As long as you kept moving, right?

The subway was only a block away from the edge of campus. After only fifteen minutes of a light jog, you were bouncing down the stairs below the street. It wasn't as crowded as peak hour, but there were plenty of people milling around. You felt like you were going mad, but none of them spared you a second glance.

Psychology 101: even if you had been in more obvious distress, it was unlikely that help would come your way in a public space such as this one. Social conformity - a victim's worst friend. You had done a social experiment on the topic a few months ago for a class - the results were disappointing at best. You were truly on your own, relying on the kindness of random strangers almost never panned out favourably.

The neon lights in the subway stations of this city had always grossed you out. If someone was going to be axe murdered anywhere in the world, it would be in these tunnels. Not a very reassuring thought, considering you were on the run. You made your way toward one of the directories, scanning the table for the first train that could take you to a far away district. There appeared to be one coming in eight minutes, you could work with that. You rushed to the platform right away, unable to keep yourself still for longer than you had to be.

The wait was antagonising. You scanned the face of every passerby, trusting no-one. None of them looked back at you with any malice or even an ounce of interest. None of them noticed the panic in your eyes or the blood on your shirt - an innocent injury with a sinister cause.

After nine minutes of fleeting paranoia, your desired train came to a halt in front of you and the unaware commuters with a deafening screech. You beelined for the sliding doors as fast as your legs could carry you. In your haste, you didn't mind the gap; tumbling forward as the toe of your left sneaker got caught on the edge of the train's floor. Pain shot through your ankle as you hit the filthy floor, tits first. You let out a screech as you tried to wrench your foot out of the gap, writhing around like a giant, panicked worm on the train floor. The passengers around you only stopped and stared, one even shimmied onto the train by sidestepping you. Dick.