**_8:25 AM

_**

I wake up like any day. In the dark. I sit there for a couple minutes, listening for any sounds. Any noises. After hearing nothing, I come out from under, pulling my bag with me.

Looking out the window was mountains and a big green field. Last week we were in a city.

Opening the pantry, I grab cheese and toast, eating it hastily, needing to go back to my hideout. This van isn’t exactly big. So it’s good for detecting movement and sounds.

**_4:35 PM

_**I jump when I hear the door of the van open, quickly making my way back under. I’ve grown used to this.

**_9:55 PM

_**

My heart is hammering against my chest as I’m still hiding. I hear his snoring. But I need to pee… I ran out of plastic bottles down here. I’m hiding under. Did I mention where ‘under’ is?

Under the bed. . .

I gotta make my way quietly to the small toilet. I go out slowly. Why is it so hard living in another person’s van.

When I go out from under, I look at the bed and see him staring at me. Eyes wide. Not in horror, not in fear, just wide. Looking at me like he might kill me.