It's 1 AM, on the 3rd floor of a ratty - literally - apartment building. High school is gonna be full to the brim with Trouble, with gang kids swaggering in the halls, teachers who barely care, and school cops who harass people for nothing half the time. Like middle school but worse. And she's terrified of her mom's latest boyfriend. So- She's ready to hop out the window and onto the fire escape if she has to. There's a women's shelter three blocks away, she's memorized the route and could at least stay until morning. T-shirt, long-sleeved sweater, green waterproof raincoat (with a hole where the right arm meets the body and a mostly full pack of gum in the pocket), jeans with a few quarters and a lipstick tube and a tiny mirror and her phone in the pockets, and her slightly ratty running shoes. Her purse with the battery and charging cable and her ID and other sundries is on her dresser by the window, but the switchblade is held loosely in her hand, under the pillow. 

There's another reason she's ready to run away if Dave is trying to get into her room. She has... Some pills. Zyprexa, whatever the fuck that does, and Adderal. She stole them out of the trash when Dave was having one of his days, and everyone assumed he lost them somewhere. She can sell them and buy some pepper spray or something. Maybe. She's not gonna let them out of her sight until she figures that out.

It's 1 AM, and she's not in her bed in her apartment anymore. She's springing up off the cold ground away from her blanket, switchblade unfolding and staring around in frightened shock.