Randy struck me on my lower back. I can't feel it. As the night went on, I was littered with cuts and bruises. He didn't care. I ran. I got far. I made my way to my car. I quickly got inside and drove. I made my way to Des Moines.
I'm gone.
I saw a man glimpse at his phone and then he looked at me. "Hello." He said, gazing at my cuts and bruises. "Are you okay?" He asked. "No, I'm fine." I said, sarcastically.
