I Am That One in Ten

Girls' Globe

Imagine it.

It is a hot summer day. You are a 19-year-old girl living and studying in a foreign city. You are excited to get to school because you are wearing your cute new summer dress. You squeeze onto a metro for your morning commute, your backpack facing forward to more closely protect your valuables. You and your fellow riders are packed in like sardines, so tightly packed that you cannot move your arms from down by your sides and can take neither a half-step forward nor backward. You feel your neighbor’s breath on your back. It is annoying and frustrating but, so far, it is nothing out of the ordinary.

Then it happens.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/zebarretta_stock/6170191444/in/photolist-apeQX7-NZjy6-5b58P-7k9z61-8PiedT-8PiemB-5VurhC-aq7i8t-y2n9L-4BtDB5-9obRNJ-ytnz-e44Zo6-5KcPVf-bu6xJm-buiuLu-bHdhWV-4HdRFe-8hY4jx-8i2hMm-6uxUor-eQpK3N-5CB9e5-mYA8Wv-dUiBoi-6WoNQj-6WjPzv-aL2RT8-8JjicC-5GXYNs-5P1JkC-ndRWq-j1uSrg-dP6Siu-chnTcA-2DsdBD-4UeZXL-9jZjSQ-vfuTJ-3JGQaN-j4hm5F-8PZarc-vfJpT-9sMeTA-9sJePc-9sMeNu-7VN2G1-7VN2pb-7VJNSK-2aKWjd Image c/o Flickr Creative Commons

You are standing next to, or should I say, pushed up against a tall middle-aged businessman wearing a fedora. You feel something in his coat pocket press against your leg. All the passengers are crammed together so you…

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