"What's happened here, ma'am?" the sudden, rumbling dark voice is a shock to my senses. Deep, unforgettable and directed to me. The icy air is hugging my tense body as I take sharp, shallow breathes. The man towers over me like a monumental mountain, unmovable - unstoppable. "Alexandra, are you alright?" there it is again, a voice that continues to wage a war on my unstable mind. Simple enough question, just answer. I try but my words fail me. Instead my surroundings have molded into a dark mess. All I see is her. A dying light shows her face. "ALEXANDRA, PLEASE! RUN, GET HELP! ALEX DO SOMETHING!" she pleads through violent sobs, the memories scream at me. But I can't remember it all, just the terroristic fragments my brain allows to slip through the tiny cracks every now and again. And then a voice, tugs me back to reality. "I think she is having a panic attack, Detective", the woman who had frantically called the police tries to fill in for my lack of presence. But it's not the police that came. No not the police, he came, and now there he was attentively staring down at me. Just get up and run. They can't physically stop me, I did nothing wrong. I start to stand but I rise to meet his eyes, I find myself faltering. Not now, you can't run now. "How can we help? What do you want us to do?" an unusual tone of concern fills his voice. I take a reassuring deep breathe and compose myself. It's okay you're not there with her, no not there but in a tiny, moldy-smelling clothing store you wandered into. "No, I'm fine" Fine, Oh yeah that's a great way to describe the overwhelming feeling of mental unstableness your feeling right now. "Alexandra I think it would be best if we went home now", What? But my first outing in three months was going so well. "Yes, I think that would be best" I respond in monotone while staring into space. We all walk towards the exit as the detectives, or suits as I like to call them, start to converse in hushed tones I can't fathom into words.
"Alexandra, there's a visitor at the door", hmm who could that be, my 'friends' haven't spoken to me since I've been in captivity so I doubt it's one of them. I try to make a list in my mind as I stumble down the grand staircase, but I can't even manage one name. I hesitantly open the door to find a lean, tall boy leaning on the door frame, extremely close to my face.
"I'm Slater, I just moved in across the road, your Mum said she needed help moving some furniture earlier, and that I should come back later", he abruptly announces. He looks like an excerpt from a clothing catalogue from the 90's. His dark brown hair falls to his jaw line, and is met by a scruffy, mediocre attempt of beard. He takes no notice of my curious stare as he ties his hair back into a tiny ponytail, with a slight stern look about his face. He then starts clicking in my face "Are you all there? Can you just tell her I'm here" I'm cut off from my daydream, and snap back to the world of the living.
"She's not home", I say, I'm staring at the ground, actually hoping for one of the suits to interrupt. "Do you know when she'll be back?" the annoyance is seeping through his words. "No", I start to slowly close the door believing this rather depressing social interaction is over when he walks in, "Well, is it okay if I stay here until she gets back then?". I'm astounded by his shear lack of perception, I thought I was sending clear signals I didn't want to talk to him anymore, but apparently he thinks I was inviting him in. "Whatever, just leave me alone", I then begin to ascend the grand staircase while the suits close in on Slater.