137. Out at night

I sit alone at the bar, nursing a glass of wine on the counter. The red liquid is strong down my throat but not strong enough to fill me with the courage to embark on this cold, lonely journey. It isn't enough to fill me with the comfort I need to survive this nightmare.

I have been in New York for a week and have run out of time and money. I haven't eaten proper food since I didn't want to leave a paper trail. I take my drink in one gulp. If I had more money, I would have spent it on more drinks, but I have to stop here now.

I stare at the piece of paper in front of me, with three simple words scribbled in black ink. You are next.

Three simple words drove me out of my home into the streets like some beggar. These words divided my family and left me in this world all alone to run and hide like an animal. But these words also made me determined to live and forget all this was happening.

I have carried it with me ever since that day. It was a constant reminder of the nightmare that I wa