Helene

I sat right in the middle of the flowing gutter, the filthy water soaking through my white designer dress, turning it into a disgusting, clinging mess that stuck to my skin like glue. My hair was matted and messy, strands plastered to my face, and the stench — God, the stench — was unbearable, a mix of rotten food, sewage, and god-knows-what else that made my stomach churn violently.

What the fucking hell.

My hands trembled as I tried to push myself up, but the slippery surface made me slide back down with a splash. The worst part wasn’t even the smell or the cold water seeping into my...