My anxiety began to spiral out of control as I made eye contact with one of the men and quickly looked away. Eye contact was bad. Eye contact was really really bad.
My palms had become slick with sweat, my feet still tapping against the ground with the rain pounding against the roof of the bus stand and I didn't know when I stared praying, to God and all the angels that existed that I was just overthinking and these men weren't bad people and nothing bad was about to happen to me. But a voice just kept whispering in my head, telling me to run and I thought I should listen to it but one of the men started walking towards me just as I got up, my bag heavy against my shoulders.
"Hey, pretty! Need a ride?"
Don't answer. Don't answer. Just run. Run now.
But it was rude to ignore people and I got ready to run before I answered back with a yell so they could hear me over the noise of the pounding rain.
