For today’s A-Z Challenge post, I’ve decided to write something a little different. Possible trigger warning due to non-graphic reference to a violent act.

The Cross

I nearly died.

Only 13 years old, you left me for dead by the railroad tracks, where no one could hear my screams.

How could you know I would make my way – inch by precious inch – up the incline until I stopped at the foot of the ancient cross.

Two men found me there, one tall and blond, the other short, stocky, both elegantly groomed, dressed in khaki and pastels.

I whimpered and scooted away. No. Please, no.

“She’s still alive.”

“Call 911.”

“No signal.”

Boneless, muscle-less(?) they carried me limp all the way out to their car. They drove me to the hospital, and made sure I would be cared for.

Sven and his friend/lover/husband Timothy waited with me until, finally, my parents were found.

We still speak and we still keep in touch. I hope they can be legally married one day – and I hope that one day I can want to.