I don't remember the gunshot.
I don't remember the pain—only the cold flooding my body. I don't remember who was standing in front of me… or why I was running. All I remember is darkness, and a blinding light that came too fast.
They say I was lucky.
That the bullet missed my heart by just a few centimeters.
That I survived.
But no one told me what I lost.
I don't remember the night that broke me. I don't remember the face of the man whose voice comes back to me in my dreams. I don't remember the truth everyone is hiding from me… and is afraid to tell.
My memories return in fragments.
The scent of a stranger's perfume.
Hands around my waist.
A voice promising he would never hurt me.
And then blood.
Sirens.
Screaming.
They tell me to forget. That it's better. Safer.
But somewhere out there is a man who is in prison because of that night.