The Girl Who Sold Herself on Ebay

[9] Stalkers and Sneakers

          Desperately in search of someone, anyone to ask for help, I scanned around the street but it was absolutely deserted. The graffiti covered walls and weeds that were spreading like a disease were completely uninviting, and the only thing inhabiting the footpath besides me and the creep chasing after me, were shattered glass bottles and discarded rubbish. With my throat stinging and my lungs wheezing to keep up with my gasping breaths I continued to run, a halo mentally appearing above a public toilet at an empty park up ahead.

          Just a few more steps, I told myself, as I rounded a corner and skidded into the park gate. I whacked my hip on the metal bar in the process, sending a sharp pain jabbing at my side like I’d been hit by a bullet. I fell to my knees with shock, my palms scraping across the concrete paving, stinging like I’d rubbed them raw with sandpaper. The tiny gravel stones dug into the flesh on my knees, stones lodging beneath my skin. I could feel my face crumpling, my eyes wincing at the pain. But I kept moving, making a final exasperated dash into the toilets and into a cubicle. I bashed it open with my shoulder, falling inside like a sobbing mess.

          But I didn’t collide with the toilet like I’d expected, I collided with someone.

          “Oh, God! I’m so sorry!” I gasped, my cheeks flushing red with pure embarrassment. My hands fumbled along the wall for the door, but my vision was completely blurred with tears I could barely even see my hands in front of my face, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

          I felt sick to my stomach as I fell into the corner of the box like room, disorientated and confused. I felt sore all over, like I was constantly being jabbed with oversized needles. 

          “No,” a voice replied, velvety and calm, “its okay I was done anyway,”

          I spun around at light speed with sudden realisation that the person who spoke was a guy. So, not only had I ran in on someone on the toilet, I’d rain in on a guy in the toilet. He cleared his throat and i felt myself wishing I was a clam. I could just snap my shell shut and pretend this never happened. 

          “They probably should have made the signs a little clearer,”

          I smiled awkwardly, letting out a nervous laugh which sounded more like an escaping wail. I hadn’t even looked at the toilet signs, I guess when you’re trying to avoid getting kidnapped or murdered the female and male signs are not something you really pay attention to.

          “…And, uh, maybe the locks a little stronger.” The guy added with a chuckle, pointing to the lock on the door which had ripped clean off the wall from when I busted in CSI style.

          “Oh, gosh,” I gasped, looking at the ground with embarrassment. No wonder my shoulder was absolutely throbbing. With a shaking hand I pushed open the door, stumbling across the slippery marble floor. I did not, under any circumstance want to know the substance making it wet, although the musty asparagus-like smell made it a little obvious. I tried to distract myself from looking down at my knees, which I imagined looked like they’d been scraped along a cheese grater.

           “Hey, are you okay?” The guy -who at the time I hadn’t even had the chance to look at- asked, I could feel him watching me pathetically move towards the door.

          “Fine,” I answered through gritted teeth. I just wanted to get out of there, I wanted to go home. I heard the tap let out a ear ringing squeak as it was turned off after the guy washed his hands. 

          “What happened to your knees?  he asked worriedly, walking towards me.

          I sucked in a breath, wincing in pain.