Anybody that talks about living in a small town has never actually lived in one. “I wonder if I look like I'm from a small town.” You could never be too sure, being around the same people all the time kinda just makes everyone blend; into a dull nothingness. “Well, you do live in a small town.” My mom said back. I wish she hadn't said that. A few years ago a hurricane caused the deaths of people, deaths of animals, houses were now in two, and necklaces now hung on tree branches. Unfortunately, my house was left standing, yet my neighbor had died in the great hurricane. There's not much to do around here since. So I have to improvise. Running. Wind in my hair, music in my ears, with no destination. My adventures usually take me to all the abandoned life that used to somewhat fill the town before. But something strange happened to me on my adventure today. Someone new. I know every single person that resided in this sullen town and they were not one of those people. “ You don’t look like you're from a small town.” I quietly whispered to myself. On the strip of the only stores open in this town was a gas station that looked abandoned. That's where I saw him. Ironed shirt, brushed teeth, shiny shoes, and a new polished car. I looked at him in confusion before deciding to introduce myself. I wasn't used to people that cared about their appearance. “You're not from here.” “Hello to you too.” he sounded confused as if he didn't expect to see anyone. “My name is June. Have we met?” I said. “No.” he replied. It seemed to me he wasn't very interested based on his flat tone. ”Well what brings you here?” I began to question, that seeing someone new was an opportunity for me not to be stuck in a loop of doing the same things every day, almost a source of entertainment. “Shouldn't you be in school?” He avoided my question and now seemed more itchy like he was in a hurry. “Why be in school when I can meet new people like you.” I replied. His tone changed from stern to interesting once I said those words and gave me a crooked smile to answer my previous question. “I'm here to meet new girls like you.“. The change of tone in his voice made my stomach turn. That's when I noticed it. His hand now resting on the car had deep red stains and a deeper red under his fingernails. I backed away to now see the car more clearly. A deep red smear above his license plate. I knew something wasn't right. “It was nice meeting you but uh, I’ll leave you alone now.” putting my headphones in quickly and turned my back without giving him a chance to respond. Ensuring that this conversation was now over. I started to think about the interaction as I picked up my pace. It didn't seem right but maybe I overreacted, it could’ve been paint, but wet paint on your hands and car dressed like that? I didn't know, I just wanted to get home and not speak or think about him. I decided to take a shortcut to get home to get there as soon as possible. “What was that?” I thought to myself following the gravel-covered road beside the woods when I heard a sound slightly blocked by my headphones. It sounded like a car but it was getting louder. Only to turn around and see the same car I had just seen at the gas station. I ran. As fast as I could but there was no use. I was now in an unknown man's car that I had only met five minutes ago. Before I could even process what was happening an awful smell clouded my vision. Now speeding along the gravel road “ You didn't see anything. Anything! “ I couldn't let out a response “Do you understand!” I was too stunned to speak. “I like you, do you know that?” he said after taking a deep breath. “I don't know what you’re talking about, I didn't see anything!”. I said frantically “ I wouldn't want you to end up like her '' His eyes glanced at the backseat. I couldn't bear to look in the backseat. That's when he abruptly slammed on the brakes and geared off into the ditch beside the road. “I'll be keeping tabs on you.” Leaning over me he opened the door and instructed me to get out. I watched him sleep away in a different direction. I stood there in shock before realizing what had just happened. What should I do? What did I just witness? Why did he let me go? After my attempt to process what was going on, I knew I needed to leave. I ran. I ran back home and didn't look back. Maybe I could keep running. But why? Why was I let go? Why wasn't the rotting flesh in the back of his car able to escape? Why am I so lucky? I'm beginning to spiral out of control. How am I going to be able to tell anyone about what just happened? I couldn't. I needed to get out. There was nothing here for me anyway. The dull nothingness might get to me soon and I need to get out now. The guilt was not a feeling, it was a pressure, a cold, unwanted presence. I was gonna keep running. I had no friends, or family, only an alcoholic mom who only cared for herself that was for me in this town. Glancing out my window every few minutes to make sure he wasn't watching, fearful for my life I began to pack what little belongings I had. I left, I left in fear. But I wasn't staying there, I couldn't stand the guilt. After writing a short note for my mom explaining that I would be going away, the thoughts of how my day started began. I never knew this would be the way I finally leave this town. Glancing out the window for the last time with my bag packed and in my hand to ensure the coast is clear.  The only somewhat alive thing that was outside was half roadkill that had a streetlight shining over it. I stepped out onto my deck with sixty dollars, and my bag, and planned to take a bus to New York with no plans once I got there. I only made it one-fourth of a mile before I was thrown into the same backseat that I refused to look back at earlier.