It wasn't until I made searing contact that I realized it was actually a rosebush. I hit the ground, torn and bleeding but free. I didn't have time to feel pain or check my wounds, but I felt a large cut behind my ear and blood dripped from my pantleg cuff. Flesh wounds, I thought, trying to muster all my bad-assery. I crept around the house, reached under the steps for my shoes and when I grabbed them I began to run.
Keep it simple, I reminded myself. If this guy got any real thread to my story, I'd be doomed to dive down the rabbit hole with him.
In spite of the open door and my nakedness, I wasn't going to look weak. I held her gaze. These people weren't going to break me after all I had already been through.
I had triumphed over sadistic staff members, beaten grave illness and stood up to my father in these clothes, but as I removed them, I saw them for what they were: rags.