
I don’t know this stranger that stopped to help me.
He offered me a ride because “pretty girls shouldn’t walk alone at night.”
I see how smiles at me through the mirror, hoping that I can’t see the intent in his eyes.
Evil is always easy enough to pick out.
This man is no wolf, and I’m no lamb.
Now we’re locked in a game that only one of us will walk away from.
He says that my mistake was getting into the wrong car.
His mistake is assuming that I’m helpless.
Or alone.


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