It was nearing dusk and Bonnibel was on her way to her gym, as was apart of her Tuesday schedule. She always walked there from her place- it saved gas, and the nature she passed was always a nice refresher from her gritty, cheap apartment. She probably shouldn't have walked in an isolated part of town at dusk, but she'd been doing it for months and never came across any problems. Until now of course, as she stumbled upon a girl her age, unconscious and rugged, draped across the train tracks.

Bonnibel could always be identified by her pale skin and dark eyes. This was bizarre because her mother was a ginger and her father had been mexican. Though it had never bothered her, it was still an odd combination where she grew up, as kids were either dark with dark eyes or light with light eyes. That of course changed when she moved to Portland, as the spectrum was truly A-Z. Yet still, her features combined always made her instantly recognizable; even among a sea of rainbow faces.

She looked down at the girl her age, curiosity peaked. Bonny couldn't help but notice the girl's intriguing appearance. She was sporting deep scarlet skinny jeans and an intense white tanktop, almost unscathed by the dirt she was lying in. A white NAPA cap was inching off her head, exposing a mess of dark, dark hair. In fact Bonnibel didn't know hair could be that dark. So dark it stood out against her milk chocolate complexion, which was, by the way, perfect. In contrast with the red she thought of a chocolate covered strawberry, although that was strictly against her diet.

Observing her fetal position she noticed that the arm under her was lined with black and yellow bruises. Bonnibel's heart jumped at the possibilities. She had witnessed a heroin abuser before, the constant jabbing with a syringe causes deep bruises from broken blood vessels. She sure hoped it wasn't that.

The girl below her began mumbling feverishly, and this only reinforced Bonnibel's anxiety. She turned away and put some distance between her and the possible junkie, pulling out her phone. She didn't even know if this was considered 911 worthy, or if she should be calling the cops at all. Maybe a hospital. She thought of just walking away, leaving the girl to her own fate. Her heart jumped as the gravel shifted behind her.

"HEY" a wavering voice announced abruptly. Bonnie spun around to face the girl, dropping her phone on the way, to which she noted with a sour "fuck" under her breath.

With one hand, the now hostile girl was holding a remarkably large serrated knife, of which Bonny doubted she had the license for. With the other, she limply caressed her side. The tight tanktop rode up her stomach a bit and she could see more of the same colorful bruises, which probably ruled out heroin use. For a moment Bonnibel wondered if this was some kind of promotional stunt for a halloween movie, and camera men were gonna hop out of the bushes at any second. It was almost October, afterall.

"Yes?"

"You're not.." the bruised girl drifted her eyes around Bonnibel sluggishly, examining her figure, which didn't go unnoticed. "You're not with Trev, are you?" She seemed to procrastinate the question, almost as if she was afraid of the answer. Her knuckles were white from gripping the knife.

"No, I don't know who that is. I was on my way to the gym and I found you passed out. I almost called an ambulance or something" she paused, looking over to her phone that was wedged between the gravel rocks, "but you pulled a knife on me."

"Oh" the girl became sheepish, and lowered her blade as if accepting some kind of defeat. Bonnibel could see her attempt to hide the tears welling in her eyes by looking down, which only made them splash into the gravel below.

"Do you um, do you need me to call someone?" She began to make her way over to the bruised girl, just in time to catch her as she buckled over and passed out again.