Free A Forgotten Tomorrow by Teresa Schaeffer

finally managed to stand up, but I have to hold onto the nightstand just in case I become wobbly and lose my balance.
    I try to avoid vomiting as I search the room for my clothes. After five minutes, I find them, extremely wrinkled and rolled into a ball, in the corner by the dirty bathroom.
    Strategically placed next to my clothes are the blindfold and rope. He must have placed them there, the asshole. I can’t find my money anywhere. Not only did he beat and rape me, he left me here without even paying what he’d promised.
    It goes through my mind that he could’ve killed me. I really think that if he’d kept on going, it would have happened. He managed to beat me unconscious – so death wasn’t too far away.

    My memory searches for Elijah’s comforting eyes. I can’t stop crying. I don’t know whether it’s because my head hurts so badly, or if I’m going through withdrawal, or if I just miss Elijah that much.
    Without him, my days only seem to get worse. Maybe tonight’s events wouldn’t have happened if he was still around. I know he wasn’t my protector, but emotionally he gave me a lot. With his friendship I didn’t feel so alone or helpless. Without it, I don’t seem to care about anything at all. Maybe this is who I am. Maybe this life is all that’s left for me.
    Why, Elijah? Why did you have to go?

CHAPTER 10
    When I left the cruddy motel I was still hidden in the darkness of night, hidden from any passers-by who might stop and stare. Not now. The sun is slowly beginning to peak out over the cityscape, forcing a spotlight to beam down upon my face. I wish I was invisible, not existing to any of the people who are walking the streets this early in the morning. But I am not, and they continue to stare.
    I feel like I’ve already walked ten miles, but it’s probably only been one. What’s worse than the distance is my lack of balance and the loose pieces of gravel digging into mybare feet. Yeah, I had shoes, but I decided to leave them behind. The heel on one snapped, so what’s the use in trying to wear them? They would look even more hideous than they did before.
    Ever since I woke up from the floor of that disgusting motel room, I’ve felt unsteady and disoriented. I took a quick shower but even that didn’t help. Well, it washed away some of the grime that was caked onto my body, just not the dried blood on my face. I tried to scrub, but it hurt too much. There was no way I wanted the cuts on my forehead to reopen, so I gently washed around them.
    The street isn’t too busy this early in the morning, but on this side of town the rich folk come out to do their fitness routines. There is a park behind the boutiques, made for jogging, biking or rollerblading, so I try to stay out of the way as young men and women jog by dressed in designer workout clothing, iPods attached to their arms. It doesn’t seem to work, though – I can feel their eyes on me, staring at me. Just becausethey have a perfect life full of riches, why do they have to look at me that way? Idiots.
    With my head in a daze it’s hard, but I try to concentrate, focusing on the ground as I walk. I feel like I might fall over at any moment, swaying from side to side as if I were a drunk. I start to perspire and my tattered clothes begin to cling to my body. I feel like I could vomit. I have a long way to go, though, walking next to these damn boutiques. I’m sure the owners won’t let me in to use the restrooms. My appearance alone is enough to isolate me from what most people call a ‘normal’ world.
    Maybe that’s what I need – a fix. I have enough left in my bag for a handful of lines and it could only make me feel better, right? It has to, because right now I feel like I could fall over and die. But where? There isn’t anywhere for me to go. I have to keep moving forward, out of this place, away from the eyes of these have-it-all, good-for-nothing rich people.
    In front of the fine jewelry store I stumble and fall