The wind was a blade against my face, cold enough to bite. It wrapped around me, stealing warmth and raising goosebumps on my skin.
I sat on the edge of the bridge, legs dangling over the black water below.
Streetlights shimmered behind me, blurred halos in the gathering dark. I'd never seen a river before. Never been on a bridge. Never spent this long on concrete without my parents’ shouts echoing in my ears: "Blue Heaven, your fifteen minutes are up!"
Their voices will haunt me forever.
After they died, I didn't know where to go. Didn't know *how* to go anywhere. All I knew was silence, walls, rules, shame. Every second spent outside felt like theft. Like trespassing in a world that didn't want me in it.
I was hungry. My clothes smelled like the bench I’d slept on for two nights. I couldn't ask for help. Couldn't speak to anyone. What *do* you say?
That I was a prisoner my whole life?
That I'd never seen a phone until I saw someone holding one, talking into it like it was magic?
That I'd never had a friend?
That I didn't know how to live, and didn't want to anymore?
I took a deep breath. One more. Maybe my last. Leaning forward, I stared into the water below. *Please let things be better up there.*
Just as I leaned further, ready to let go, a screech ripped through the night.
I ignored it. Forced myself back into the numbness. Leaned a little more, and more.
Then someone grabbed my arms, yanking me back from the edge.
"Don't fucking do that," a voice breathed out, chest heaving. "Jesus Christ…" The words felt like a slap. I flinched, heart hammering.
I stared at her. Her grip was tight, strong. I looked at her eyes. They were wide, frantic.
My breath caught in my throat. My whole body trembled. My heart was pounding so hard I thought she could feel it.
Her eyes locked with mine. Blue, so intense they felt like they were burning into me.
It wasn't anger. It wasn't pity. It was… panic. Pure, raw panic. And why had she saved me?
"Sit," she said, pointing to the sidewalk a few feet from the ledge. I didn't move. Still shaking, still numb. I thought she'd yell, scream. I didn't want her to stay.
"Come on," she said again, voice softer now, but still firm. "Just sit. Please, for the love of God."
I nodded, because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know how to *do* anything.
I slumped down onto the cold concrete, arms wrapped around my knees. My voice was still locked in my throat, a lump of ice.
The girl sat beside me, legs crossed. She glanced at me for a long time, then looked out at the water.
We were silent. I didn't know what to say. I didn't *want* to be saved. I hadn't asked for her help.
"You scared the shit out of me," she said finally. "I was just driving, and I saw you on the edge and—I don't know, I just couldn't drive past you. I couldn't just watch you sit there."
I didn't say anything. Couldn't. My throat burned.
"Do you… want to talk?"
My lips parted, but no sound came out. I shook my head slowly. My throat felt like sandpaper.
"It's okay," she said gently. "You don't have to. I just… you looked like you were going to jump."
I looked away. Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
I *was* going to jump. I wanted to. Once she left me alone, I could finally get what I wanted.
She noticed. "Can I ask you something?"
I didn't speak. She fell silent again, looked up at the sky, then back at me. "Why?"
Why?
How do you explain a lifetime of silence? A lifetime of being told you’re evil, and that you are, too? A lifetime of being called a sin for simply existing?
My mouth moved, but all I could manage was one word.
"I don't have anywhere else to go." It was the first word I’d spoken to another person in months.
She blinked. "You're homeless?"
I nodded. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly.
Something changed in her face. Her expression softened.
"Shit… I'm so sorry."
I didn't answer. Didn't trust her. Didn't know her. She could be anyone. She *was* someone. Loud, messy, full of fire. Everything my parents had warned me about.
"Do you have anyone?" she asked.
I shook my head.
"No friends?"
Another shake.
"Family?"
More silence. More shaking. My throat was thick, swollen.
"Fuck," she whispered under her breath. "You're just a kid."
I flinched at the word. I didn't want to be a kid. Kids got locked away. Kids didn't get to choose anything. I wasn't a kid anymore.
She stood up and held out her hand.
"I'm not leaving you here."
I stared at it. Her hand. Pale skin, tattooed wrists, thick silver rings. She wasn't polished or perfect. She wore a massive black jacket and oversized jeans. Messy hair, tired eyes. She looked… free.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she added, lowering her voice. "I swear. You don't have to come with me if you don't want. But it's cold as hell out here, and you look like you haven't eaten in days. I have food. A warm place, a shower, blankets. Hell, I'll even leave you alone if that's what you want. Just… get in the car." She ran a hand through her hair.
I hesitated. Everything screamed *don't trust her*. She could be lying. She could be dangerous. But everything inside me ached so badly, I didn't care anymore. I was so tired. Tired of being scared. Of being alone. Of surviving when I didn't even know how.
I took her hand. Even if she kidnapped me, it wouldn’t be different from anything I’d known before.
The warmth of her fingers made my chest ache.
"I'm Billie," she said as she helped me up.
I looked at her again. Really looked. Her hair was messy, like she didn't care. Her eyes were tired, but kind. She didn't look like a monster.
I wanted to tell her my name, but the words wouldn't come. I just followed her to the car, head down.
She opened the passenger door and waited. I stood there for a second, heart thudding. I wasn't sure if this was a mistake. But what else did I have to lose?
So I got in. I sat there, unfazed. Staring at the road ahead.
"Buckle up," she said. She looked at me expectantly.
I blinked, confused.
"Buckle up." She said again, more sternly.
I was confused. I'd never been in a car before. I'd seen them out my window, but I didn't know…
She huffed and leaned over me, grabbing the strap and clicking it into place.
She leaned back, started the car.
The engine hummed to life.
First chapter.