She was running into the mall without even thinking. She didn’t know if the loan sharks were still after her or whether they had lost her.

All she could think about was running for her life. Through the crowd in the mall, up the escalators, only to end up hiding in a fitting room, all tired and sweaty.

The scrape on her knee still hurt from all the running and her heavy bag slowed her down.

She didn’t know what to do anymore. She had tried everything in the past weeks to disguise herself so that the loan sharks wouldn’t recognize her. She had changed out of her uniform every day after school, she had used caps, hats and masks to cover her face, and she had even used makeup – much to her disgust – to disguise herself. But none of that worked. What was it that made her so easily recognizable?

Automatically, she glanced down at her rather unnaturally flat chest and thought how it could be the reason the loan sharks had never failed to notice that it was her under the disguises.

There aren’t that many girls in high school that has a flat chest like me, she thought.

She sighed, thinking how stupid she was for thinking up such a stupid reason but at the same time she couldn’t help believing it was true.

She pushed all of it out of her mind as she ped her bag to look at its contents. She tried taking out a few things she didn’t need so that it would be much lighter. The first thing she found was a pair of scissors that she had used just a few days ago to cut up some clothes. She stared at the scissor in her hand. Its sharp point shone under the lights. She looked at herself in the mirror and tugged at her ponytail.

Somehow she knew just what to do. How she could possibly escape from the loan sharks. It didn’t have to take plastic surgery or really thick make up to make the best disguise. Somehow the answer to her problems was right there in her hand.

So as she walked out of the fitting room her head feeling lighter, she could just feel how excited she was to have found a solution.

“Isn’t that her?” she heard someone say – obviously it was the loan sharks – so she quickened her steps, knowing that her new cover had been blown. Looking down the whole time, she headed right where her legs were leading her.

The women’s toilet.

She knew the loan sharks would never go into the women’s toilet. When she was safely inside, she lowered her hoody and she sighed from relief only to find herself in an unfamiliar place. Somehow the interior of the women’s toilet looked really different from what she had expected.

There were the usual stalls lined up along one wall but what was puzzling her was that there was something else sticking to the walls instead of sinks. Realization made her jaw go slack. She didn’t know what to do. Should she just run out? But then she heard the loan sharks talking.

“Did she just walk into the men’s toilet?”