I jumped out of the window. It wasn't high—just the second floor. I only felt a slight tingle in my ankles.
I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings and accidentally bumped into someone—no, I actually fell on a person.
I felt like I was lying on something soft, and my deepest self hoped it wasn't what it felt like. I pressed on something that felt like perfect dough, and my mind raced, hoping that it wasn't the person I thought it was.
Suddenly, two hands touched my hips. The person sat up and placed me beside them.
I immediately blushed as I understood what had happened and saw who I had fallen on.
Feelings of embarrassment, overwhelmingness, and panic spread through me.
She looked at me in surprise, but most of all... with concern.
A young girl, completely beside herself, shaking, frantic, distraught—
it was obvious that something was wrong with me.
I stammered an apology and got up in a hurry. I just wanted to keep going—
but the woman held me by the arm.
Her grip was gentle, not threatening.
It was full of concern.
"What's wrong?" she asked calmly.
"Why are you running around so frantically?"
I didn't know what to say.
I explained half of it to her—not everything.
That someone was chasing me.
That I felt followed.
That I was scared.
She looked at me intensely for a moment.
Then she placed a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was soft, and her next words were calm: "Come with me. Just for a bit and tell me everything."
I don't know why—but I went with her.
Maybe because her voice was so calm.
Or maybe because I simply had no strength left.
We walked through the streets.
We talked.
Or rather: she asked questions, and I answered cautiously.
She gave me space; she didn't push.
Over time, we both thawed out.
She told me her name was Evelyn.
She was only in her mid-twenties—I was 17, soon to be 18.
The age difference was quite large.
The more I talked to her, the more comfortable I felt. But the voices in my head started again, telling me it was too good to be true.
Something about her didn't quite let me go.
Is she hiding something?
She was nice. Almost too nice.
But not dishonest.
Her body language told me:
She was genuinely curious.
She leaned forward when I spoke.
She maintained eye contact.
She didn't shy away.
I, on the other hand, was shy, often broke eye contact, and spoke softly—
but I showed interest. I couldn't help it.
We got along quite well. She was patient with me.
As if she had known me for a long time.
The day passed with conversations, with laughter, with small moments.
But at some point, she said:
"I have to go home now."
I was disappointed.
I didn't want to be alone.
Not to return to the fear.
To the panic room.
As if she had sensed the fear in me, she looked at me and asked gently:
"If you want... you can sleep at my place.
In the guest room. Only if you feel safe."
She seemed like a therapist. I don't know what she does for a living, but I'd like to find out.
And I asked myself:
"What are the odds that I would encounter such a hospitable person?
A strange woman who listens to me."
Once we arrived at her place, she gave me something to eat—home-cooked. I hadn't had a proper cooked meal in too long.
She gave me filtered water to drink—
and while I ate, she prepared the guest room.
The food?
Unbelievably delicious.
Almost surreal.
When I was done, she came back in and sat down with me.
"The room is ready. If you want... you can just go to sleep."
She smiled warmly at me.
I felt that she was waiting for an answer—
but there was no pressure. Just an open offer.
I wanted to say something...
a direct answer. But her gaze made me nervous.
I only managed a shy, barely audible "Thank you" with a nod—
but a slight smile was on my lips.
And then... I asked myself something.
I wanted to know more about her—her work.
Her life.
Her view on people.
I was curious about her.
The more I asked and received answers, the more comfortable I felt.
I moved closer—very slightly and cautiously.
Evelyn saw that and understood.
She smiled.
She opened her arms—a silent offer.
And I...
I crept in.
Into her arms.
Into her warmth.
Into her safety.
I didn't know what that felt like.
I had always been alone until now.
She carefully took me in, looking down at me.
"Looks like someone's a little shy, huh? I understand you're scared and don't want to be alone. Don't worry, nothing will happen to you here, I promise."
I lowered my gaze to avoid her eyes.
I couldn't answer her.
I was too embarrassed. Too nervous but also grateful.
I risked a quick glance up at her.
She smiled warmly.
Gently. Not mockingly, because she saw right through me. Just... lovingly.
I wanted to stay with her, never leave.
Only in her arms, where I felt safe.
Just... to be there and enjoy the peace.
But I had to go to school.
I knew it.
She knew it too.
When she later walked me to bed, she sat on the edge of the mattress and looked directly at me.
I looked at her with some hesitation and couldn't hold eye contact.
She asked me calmly:
"Should I take you to school and pick you up? In the future, until things get better?"
I felt relieved and better with this idea.
"That's a good idea. I feel much safer and calmer with you."
With a smile, Evelyn slowly stood up and left with the words.
"Good, then it's settled. I'll drive you to school tomorrow. I'll set my alarm for 6 AM—that should be enough time if I'm driving you."
Her presence, her effect on me...
They gave me a sense of security—of calm.
I didn't know why—but being with her felt right.
I slowly crawled into bed—buried myself in it.
Enjoyed the warmth and the knowledge that I wasn't alone for once.
I fell asleep in her guest room.
And the paranoia?
The phone call?
The dark web?
For a moment, they were almost forgotten. But deep inside, a thought whispered.
"I'm putting her in danger."
I should leave before something happens to her because of me.