For months, she believed soully and truthfully, that THIS was her life. Wake up, eat, take her daughter to day care, then go to school herself. This was the life that Hanna knew. She was a Teen mom, on her own, she and Layla against the world. Layla was finally three, and able to go to day care without screaming. She seemed to be enjoying it. Hanna was pregnant at the age of fourteen, but it truly wasn't her fault.
She was on her way home, around seven, from a frinds house. She was late, and knew that fireworks were on their way when she got home. Her mother, age fifteen when she had Hanna, was now thirty and still knew nothing about raising kids even though she had four. Hanna was at the bustop, when a man came and sat on the cold, damp bench next to her. He had asked her a couple of questions, and she answered politely, not wanting to be rude. He asked her things like "What's your name?" and innocent questions like that. Until he got to one question that struck her heart cold. Six simple words, that when put together, it was venom. "Do your pants have a button?" he asked. She tried to run, but he caught her before. The hood of her jacket was choking her, but soon, even her shirt was off. He forced her into the alley behind the bustop, and she cried when she heard the bus slow down, but not stop. She tried to close her eyes. She tried to imagine that this was just a psycho nightmare, but the next thing she knew, it was over. She looked up at him just in time to see the pipe swing down.