Broken glass and crushed up cans on the ground were also a worry. The “bad crowd” of teens in the neighborhood liked to hide and get drunk and fuc... in these woods, so she was getting to know them well. There was a squelch as she stepped on a discarded condom. She dragged her foot to get it off and kept running.At some point, the crushing, stumbling, violently swearing footsteps behind her seemed to recall that they belonged to a grown adult who’d just left his vehicle running with the door open. But, I had toadmit, even those little somethings didn't make the overall pictureright. Or better. I was disjointed. I was lost, I thought. Adrift,on a raft of my own making, bobbing up and down on the ocean. Exceptmy ocean had no land disrupting it here or there, no safety to floatonto. There weren't any rescue ships out looking for me. I couldn'tseem to find a safe harbour. Sometimes I worried about my mentalhealth. I wasn't depressed, in the clinical sense. I did someresearch and. More

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