RUNNING WITHOUT A NAME
1277 Words
Elena pulled her phone from her bag, fingers trembling.
Bank balance: barely enough for a few days. Not ideal, but it would have to do.
She let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to think straight. First things first…. She needed to make sure she was okay. The thought of what had happened last night refused to leave her, and she wasn’t taking chances.
She hailed a cab, giving the driver a quick, distracted direction.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asked.
“The… nearest hospital,” she muttered, voice tight. “Urgent.”
Inside the hospital, the sterile smell hit her, but she didn’t show her disgust. She explained her situation to the nurse carefully, skipping the gory details, but making sure everything that could harm her was checked.
Doctor after doctor examined her, and each test seemed to drag on forever. Every beep, every paper, every professional glance made her skin crawl.
Finally, one doctor, a young woman, looked at her with gentle eyes.
“Miss… you’re physically fine, but we need to talk about post-exposure care. You might want counseling too. And… a pregnancy test,” she said softly.
Elena stiffened, she had not thought of the possibility of pregnancy. Swallowing hard. “Do it,” she whispered.
The results would take hours. She wasn’t going to wait. She had plans to execute.
By afternoon, she had a small backpack packed with essentials, passport, cash, and a few changes of clothes. She moved like a ghost through the city, avoiding any familiar faces, eyes sharp, senses alive.
Her phone beeped: Her supposed Husband. She could feel the anger in the text. “Where are you? I was told a stranger lodged in your room, never knew you were that useless.”
Her phone buzzed again
Another text from him:” Dress up before I get back, we are going to the family dinner together.”
Elena's fingers curled around her phone from anger, rage and sadness. He didn't even care about her wellbeing. It's a good thing she had decided to move in with her life.
“I’ve survived worse,” she muttered. “You’ll regret underestimating me.”
She checked into a modest hotel near the outskirts and spent the next few hours booking a flight abroad, trying to remain undetected. She chose an unassuming route, multiple layovers, and cash payments. Every detail mattered. She couldn't afford the mistake of letting her father find her.
Her mind raced with scenarios.
“What if her husband sent someone after her? Or worse my father finds out finds out I'm missing before I'm out of his reach”
She couldn't afford getting caught.
Night fell, and Elena moved again, this time taking public transport to avoid cameras. She felt the city’s eyes on her, imagined shadows following her every step.
In the airport, she kept to the edges, hood pulled low, eyes scanning constantly. Her flight was delayed, but she didn’t care. She had a small window to escape and any delay could be fatal.
As she approached the boarding gate, her phone buzzed again. Her husband again.
“where are you?”
Elena froze. Around her, travelers rushed by, oblivious. But she could feel the weight of those words pressing down on her.
____________
Her plane touched down hours later.
Finally, a new country, a new home. Finally she gets to have peace of mind, or so she thought.
She passed through immigration without trouble, her face carefully blank, her answers short. The stamp hit her passport with a final thud, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe she had made it.
Outside the airport, the night was loud and unfamiliar. Languages collided. Car horns screamed. Neon signs blurred together.
She flagged down a taxi.
“Hotel Marceau,” she said, pronouncing the name carefully. She had done her research for a very affordable hotel and finally settled for this.
The driver nodded and pulled into traffic.
Elena leaned back, exhaustion settling into her bones. Her body still ached, every movement reminding her of the night she refused to remember.
She reached for her bag, checking it again. Phone, wallet, passport. Everything, safely tucked in there.
Her phone buzzed suddenly.
Her husband, again….maybe he cared about….who knows
She turned the screen face-down instantly and shoved it deeper into her bag. She wouldn’t answer. She wouldn’t ever answer again.
The taxi stopped suddenly.
The impact came without warning.
A violent jolt from the side sent the car swerving. Elena was thrown forward, the seatbelt cutting sharply into her shoulder as her head slammed hard against the window.
Pain exploded behind her eyes.
The taxi spun once, twice, before crashing into the curb with a bone-crushing sound.
For a moment, there was nothing but ringing silence.
“Miss! Miss! Are you okay?” the driver shouted, his voice shaking.
She tried to respond, but dizziness washed over her as she slowly passed out.
“Get her out!” a voice ordered.
Hands grabbed her arms, dragging her onto the pavement. Her bag slipped from her shoulder and hit the ground.
She didn’t see who picked it up.
She barely felt it when someone lifted her to her feet.
Blood trickled down her temple. Her head throbbed violently.
“I need my bag,” she murmured weakly.
No one listened.
The driver was arguing with another man. A small crowd had gathered. Everything was loud and confusing.
Then suddenly……
Her bag was gone.
Her breath hitched.
“No,” she whispered.
She scanned the crowd wildly, panic sharpening her vision. Her bag wasn’t anywhere. The ground was empty.
Her phone.
Her money.
Her documents.
All gone!
The ambulance arrived.
Questions were asked she barely understood. She shook her head numbly, tears burning behind her eyes.
By the time the chaos cleared, the taxi was gone.
The crowd had dispersed.
And Elena was standing alone on a foreign street with blood on her face and nothing in her hands.
She took a shaky step forward.
Her legs gave out.
She dropped to the curb, hugging herself tightly as the weight of it all finally crushed down.
A new country.
No money.
No phone.
No hotel.
No way back.
Her stomach twisted violently, nausea rising.
She pressed a hand to her abdomen, breathing through the pain.
“Not now,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please… not now.”
A harsh voice broke through her daze.
“Miss.”
Elena looked up slowly.
A uniformed officer stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable. Beside him was another man, holding a small notepad.
“You were involved in an accident,” the officer said. “We need identification.”
Elena’s lips trembled.
“I… I don’t have anything,” she whispered.
The officer frowned. “No phone? No passport?”
She shook her head weakly.
He exchanged a glance with the man beside him.
“We’ll need to contact someone,” the officer said. “A next of kin or spouse.”
“Then we’ll need to take you in. Verify your status. Contact your embassy.”
Embassy equals deportation.
Her stomach dropped.
“No,” she whispered, stepping back. “Please… I can handle this myself.”
The officer reached for his radio.
“Ma’am….”
She didn't intend to but…..she ran.
“Hey! Stop!”
She didn’t look back.
She disappeared into a narrow side street, then another, then another turning blindly, desperately, until the sounds behind her faded.
Elena pressed a trembling hand to her stomach, breath shaky.
“Please,” she whispered into the dark. “Just let me survive this.”
- Writer
