Tyler left through the window adjacent to my bed. The second that he disappeared from my sight, I slipped out of my now-loose bonds and threw on a simple nightgown and my biker jacket. Tears clouded my vision and sobs choked my throat just like if there was a hand on it, cutting off my breathing. I could still feel the throbbing from below, reminding of what I had just suffered.

I wrapped my arms around myself, unable to control the violent shaking of my own body. I was planning on just trying to sleep off what had happened and forgetting about Tyler's face, but when I turned back towards, I began to cry harder.

The memory of his hands on my skin, touching me, ravishing me when I had said no, was simply too much. Panic consumed my body and I jerked towards my window involuntarily.

I can't stay here.

I raised the sash shakily, and just barely managed to haul my broken body over the windowsill. I clung tightly to the ivy ladder climbing the side of my house, and slowly lowered myself downwards until my feet hit solid dirt. From then on, I never stopped running.

***

I was halfway through town and miles away from my house when I realized that I had nowhere to go. Of course, I knew the usual hangout places and where the parties were, but if I went to a party, that wouldn't solve my problem. I needed to find a place to stay for a while.

I stumbled and almost fell when the toe of my black biker boots hit the concrete curb. I looked up and was surprised to see a large, brightly illuminated building looming overhead. I had been so desperate to get away from my house that I hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to where I was going. I had never seen that building before, nor had I been this far into town without my motorcycle before.

The building was painted in a cheery shade of cream and fluffy, sky blue. Four large blue letters were set on a ledge protruding from the building and were illuminated greatly and flashing. They read C-O-P-E.

Cope.

I explored further, and found more, smaller letters underneath.

Shelter for Abuse Survivors.

I hesitated. Being raped was one thing. Admitting to it was quite another. But where else was I going to go? I couldn't go to a homeless shelter because they would ask for identification and then would soon find out that I was not, in fact, homeless. I really had no other option.

So, reluctantly, I walked up to the large set of double doors. A small laminated paper glued to the glass beside the door handle caught my eye. I began to read it, using my LED flashlight on my phone.

COPE - Open at all hours.

Welcomes anyone in need of assistance.

Free services provided:

Bedding

Clothing

Food

Therapy/counseling

Arts and crafts

Sports

Theater

Garden time/gardening

Animal therapy

Fine arts practice

Basic schooling

Housing for as long as desired

I was shocked at the amount of services that Cope offered. I'd never seen a facility that offered so much to people who couldn't pay for it before. The idea of returning to my house caused my stomach to turn violently, and I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I slowly slipped inside of the COPE building.

Once there, I was immediately greeted with bright, fluorescent lights. A small desk sat at the front of the lobby, which was pleasant and filled with all different kinds of greenery. The walls were murals of gardens, to match the flower-petal mandala carpeting. In the far corner, there was a stairwell on the right side, and a sofa on the left side. A small Christmas tree was tucked into another corner. I started as I realized that it was, in fact, December; Christmas would be coming soon.

Behind the desk at the front of the room, a petite, friendly-looking woman of about twenty-three sat, sipping a mug of coffee and reading a romance novel. It was about five in the morning; the sun hadn't even rose yet. Naturally, I heard no sounds from the back part of the building, where I assumed people slept.

The woman looked up from the depths of her mug and noticed me standing there. I'm sure I looked exhausted and disoriented. The woman hurried from behind the desk and rushed to me. When she spoke, her voice was lilting, with a hint of a Southern accent, and warmer than I had imagined it to be.

"Hi, sweetie pie. Can you tell me your name?" "Reese," I said hoarsely, my voice cracking on the last syllable. After a moment's thought, I added, "Daniels." The woman smiled sadly. "Hi, Reese. I'm Misty and I'm going to fix you up tonight." I nodded and smiled my appreciation.

"Welcome to Cope," Misty said, waving her hands to indicate the entire building. "We're blessed to have you here with us. What are you needing, sugar plum?" I cleared my throat, trying to speak over the lump.

"J-just a place to stay," I mumbled, looking down at my feet. "And a bed, and clothes. I-I don't know how long I'm going to be staying yet." Misty nodded.

"Alrighty then. Let's just get you signed up, then we'll go get you some clothes for the night and show you to your room. You can go shopping for more clothes, clothes that suit you, tomorrow. Cope funds the trip, don't worry about money." I smiled. I liked Misty's cheerful attitude.

Misty went behind the desk again and tapped a few buttons on her keyboard. She looked up from the computer screen to speak to me again. "Alright, now, in order to place you in a room with a roommate who's right for you, I need to ask a few personal questions, if you don't mind." I shook my head, and she began to fire questions at me.

"Any health issues?" After looking at me for a second, Misty added, "Besides a shot liver." I blushed and shook my head. "Any bad habits I should know about? Are you a cutter?" I shook my head again. "Alright. Mental illnesses? Depression? Anxiety? Schizophrenia?" I cleared my throat and answered, "Not that I know of." "Eating disorders?" I stayed silent. "Reese?" "No," I said sharply. Misty smiled gently. "Understood. Okay, now I know that this is hard, but we need to pair you guys up well. What kind of abuse did you go through? And it's okay if you don't want to answer. We can just place you using our own judgment, if you'd rather."

"Second option," I said quietly. I simply couldn't come out and say that I was raped to a woman that I had just met. "Alrighty then." Misty tapped a few more keys on her keyboard, before printing a sheet of paper and pulling a laminated card from a desk drawer.

Misty handed me the card and said, "You'll be staying in Room 203. I think you'll like it there. Your roomie is one of the nicest people staying here." I smiled.

That sounds inviting.