Where was she? This place was so dusty, almost like it had been years since someone had been in. She finally stood up and ended up coughing from the dustdevil stirred up by her movement. There was no need to be silent since 'he' knew she was in here. She squeezed past the boxes in front of her. It was like a maze and she didn't want to get physically lost although she felt emotionally lost and physically drained. Her hands were shaking and knees were suffering from the post effects of the adrenaline surge. What were all these boxes? It was too dark to read the labels. With what light there was, she could tell they were piled nearly to the ceiling. She saw light! She pushed herself through the cracks of more boxes. Yes! Light! It was a window. It was so dirty that she couldn't see outside. She tore a dangling remnant of her torn, and now dirty white blouse and tried to clean the window enough to see outside. She was looking at the busy street she had been chased down. Life just went on as normal. No one cared that moments before she was running for her life. Where was he? This man who had chased her, who had torn her blouse?
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