For a long time, the aquarium was a place of true comfort for my childhood self - a safe haven holding just enough water to drown out the worries of being alone. But now, lying alone on the cool tiles, I’m purely certain that water can drown more than anxiety. It can drown just about anything, actually. Just about anyone.

◍◍◍

The clownfish in her office always mesmerised me. Their tiger-striped bodies, slippery and wet, yet so easy to slice through. Closing my eyes, I could practically taste the smooth slither of their scales against my tongue. Soft opera swam through the roam, thousands of carefully carved music notes daintily leaping through the crooks and crannies of my earlobes. A loud clang rumbled from beneath Auntie Aisling’s quartz desk, and I grimaced in annoyance as a little head poked out from beneath the table.

“I- I think I broke it...” a small voice quivered.

Poor Harley.

Ducking down onto my hands and knees, I examined the secluded shelter. Though Aisling’s desk was relatively small, there was just enough space from Harley’s slouched body to curl up with her head only slightly brushing the ceiling, hands busy pressing two halves of a broken toy car together. I sighed loudly, reaching out and plucking the red Rolls-Royce from her tiny fist. The two halves separated as soon as they escaped her grip, and Harley let out a rapid gasp of worry.

“Can- can you fi- fix them?”

Glancing down into Harley’s tear-drenched puppy eyes, I couldn’t help but pity her. The poor girl really didn’t know what it was like to be free. Then again, did I? Not yet, at least. Not yet.

“I’m sure there’s a way,” I smiled encouragingly at my little cousin, wiping the pools of liquid from her smooth skin, “Auntie must have some glue around here somewhere...”

Forcing myself to stand, I rose from Aunt Aisling’s plush office chair and sauntered across the room. The drawers, thankfully, were still unlocked, and I began the tiresome search for glue, tape, anything that would help. Harley climbed up from the ground and shouldered to me, still standing below my shoulders even while on the tips of her toes.

“The glue - do you see it?” her prying eyes scrambled to get a tiny glimpse of the drawers, but alas, her height prevented it, “Er... is there anything in there that can fix it?”

Nothing. But I wouldn’t tell her that, of course.

Avoiding her question, I slipped the toy car into my pocket and smiled brightly, bending down to her height to say, “I’ll tell you what. I’m gonna keep this for now, but when your mom returns, I’ll make sure to give this to her.”

“Can- can we go find her now?” Harley’s shoulders shook, the fear of a strictly-raised child flooding her tiny face.

“I suppose...” a loud sigh flew from the depths of my throat and off the tip of my tongue, “I mean, she should be finished with her last tour by now, right? What harm could it be to interrupt her?” I took Harley’s trembling little hand in my, caressing my thumb against the smooth leftover baby fat of her palm, “Come on, this way.”

Leading her through the tall doorway, we entered the hallway with soft, short steps. The floor was a dull grey, the walls blanketed in an unnerving clown-covered wallpaper. Taking a deep breath inwards, our feet were practically soundless against the cold tiles as Harley insisted on tiptoeing across every grey tile. The silence warped around us; I was sure I could hear the quiet drop of a pin. Harley’s grip around my hand tightened as we turned the corner, leading us into a massive chamber of huge glass tanks and white pillars. A ran my fingers across the tank, a fluorescent glow seeping through its protective barrier and flowing deep into my eyes. I heaved out a heavy breath as I watched Meemu, my hammerhead shark friend since I was five, wander beside us. Harley, clearly in great awe of the touristless aquarium, dashed ahead and planted her nose against the glass. Letting out a soft chuckle, I smiled as her eyes glistened at the sight of a dull-looking salmon swimming towards her tiny head, floating just beyond the glass until they were face to face.

“Yra! Yra, look! I found a fish!” Smirking at the irony of her excitement, - a girl who’d come to the aquarium every single day since she was three - I gently wrapped my arm around Harley’s waist, pulling her along and into yet another hallway, “Awwww...” Harley moaned, frowning in disappointment as she waved a reluctant goodbye to her fishy friend.

“Come on, we’re almost there. Auntie's last touring spot is only, what, a few hallways down?.”

Bored out of my mind from staring at the same creepy smiles of clowns for the past seven or so minutes, I sighed loudly, pulling Harley along like a leashed dog. I heard her moans and pleas to pause and admire the fish, but, as any irritated cousin would, I chose to ignore them. At last, we rounded yet another bend to find the wide-spread chamber of metal rafters and translucent blue tanks - Auntie Aisling’s final touring destination. Harley grinned from ear to ear as she dashed about, singing “mommy” at the most shrill volume she could possibly reach.

“Shhhh! We need to be quiet, she’s not here! She could still be touring!” I whisper-shouted, grabbing Harley’s tiny hand and pulling her back to my side.

“But- but you said she’d be finished by now.”

“I- I know. I must have been mistaken. I just swore...” Pity rising to the surface as I was consumed in her glistening puppy eyes, I fumbled for my watch: quarter past five, “That’s strange. She should've been finished fifteen minutes ago... Maybe she’s on her way back to the office and we missed her?”

“NO,” Harley shook her little head, a realisation surfacing within her, “Mommy always stays to clean up for a- a really long time. She- she can’t be back in the office.”

Maybe not “a really long time”, but Harley wasn’t wrong - Aisling never left the final room until 5:30 or so; she wouldn’t be back in the office so soon. Besides, tourists were messy and, as I squinted through my smudged glasses, my eyes began to locate crumbs and fallen tour guides littering the corners of the room. She’d been here, alright. But why was it such a mess? Auntie Aisling never skipped cleaning...

“Maybe she’s over here!”

Harley yanked free from my stern grip, sprinting off towards yet another clown-faced hallway.

“Hey!” My voice rippling with panic, I dashed after her, following the six-year-old around corner after corner until I finally caught up, “Geez-” I wheezed, leaning my palms on my thighs as I gasped for breath, “Why- Are- Kids- So- Damn- Fas-”

But my voice shrank in my throat as I examined what lay before me. Harley too was in shock; something so massive surely couldn’t have been mistaken for just another repulsive wallpaper.

“Wha- How-”

Iron hinges blanketed the haunted wall, rusted metal still retaining the lingering glistens of its prime. The light from the luminous fluorescent light hugged its flat steel surface, and when I looked closely enough, I could make out the blurry silhouette of my body, shadowed eyes glaring back at me. Above the door rested a painted number: 13. Blinded by my curiosity, I approached the door, my hand shivering as it collided with the chilled doorknob.

“You- you’re not going in there, right?” Harley’s voice shook with concern, her arm reaching out to pull me back. But alas, the strength of a six-year-old was no match to that of a fourteen-year-old, “We’ve never even seen this before! It- it just appeared out of nowhere! We can’t-,” she cringed with fright, “We can’t go inside!”

But, like the rebellious teenager I was, I ignored her, pushing the handle down until it froze, reaching its max. But the handle wasn’t the only thing that froze. Harley. Me. The door.

“Bruh,” I groaned, hoping to warm the thick chill that had suddenly seeped into the hallway with some annoyed humour.

Turning sideways, I forced my shoulder against the stuck door, leaning all my body weight against its industrialised surface. But, to no surprise, it still refused to budge.

“Fine. I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

I stepped back a few paces, positioning myself into a running stance. 3... 2... 1... Leaping into action, I bounded towards the door, slamming my shoulder against it with all the force and strength I contained. Still nothing. Shoulder aching from the already forming bruise, I stared at the door in annoyance, waiting. Just waiting.

“Aha!” I hollered as it swung inward a crack.

Just a crack, but that was still enough for me to pry my fingers through the gap and push it all the way open.

“Come on,” Taking a small step through the doorway, I gestured for Harley to follow me inside.

The room was cramped and dark, a flickering fluorescent LED light bulb dangling from the ceiling. Rather than horrific clowns, ancient-seeming lavender wallpaper clung to the walls, chipping at its many creases. Lining the room sat aisle after aisle of metal cabinets, each one likely containing hundreds or thousands of files. I paced the room, running my hand against each cold, aluminium container. At last, I reached the back of the room, the end of the aisles. But there was something out of place. A single cabinet, steel instead of aluminium, sat before me, a menacing aura radiating from its reflective surface. A droplet of sweat trickled along my temple, its chilled moisture seeping through my pores. Trembling slightly, I reached out and grasped my fingers around the cabinet’s handle, carefully pulling it towards me. As the cabinet opened, cobwebs crumbled from the container, a chorus of a thousand tiny scattering legs laughing in my ears. Spiders. Harley hated spiders. Thank goodness she didn’t follow me all the way back here... I brushed aside the complex net of webs, ignoring the newly-formed blanket of sticky goo clinging to my fingertips. Inside the cabinet lay a few files, nothing special, the majority of which were wrapped up securely in large orange envelopes. I yanked an especially large envelope out from its sturdy resting spot, ripping it open to reveal a small family of different coloured papers. Extracting one of the files from its paper prison, I held it up to the flickering lightbulb, squinting to read its faint text.

Name: Demear, Yra

Sex: AFAB

Date of Birth: 11/3/28

Place of Birth: NYU Langone Hospital, Manhattan, New York, USA

Guardian(s): Demear, Roselynn (A); Demear, Mary (D)

Status: A

Citizenship: United States of America

Height: 5’7

Weight: 132 lb.

Hair: Black

Eyes: Green

Offences: N/A

Conclusion: EXTERMINATE

“Yra? Yra! Can we leave now?! I wanna find Mommy!”

Terror seeping through my veins, I shakily looked up from the file, eyes scanning the sea of darkness for Harley’s small figure.

“One- one moment!” my voice quivered as I glanced back down at the slightly-crumpled paper clutched in my palm.

Forcing myself to breathe, I tore the paper into two, three, six pieces, leaving its crumpled shards spread messily across the cold floor. Without a moment's hesitation, I sprinted towards the door, attempting to plaster a false smile upon my face in the hopes of fooling Harley. I dashed out the door, not bothering to force it shut behind me, to find Harley waiting calmly for me in the hallway.

“What took you so long?” she grabbed my hand, staring straight into my falsely joyous face.

“Oh don’t you worry about it. I was just... grabbing something.”

But even with my cheerful tone, she could still tell there was something different about me. Damn it. I should have known, Harley was always an emotion reader. She could see it in my eyes, the fear and confusion swimming through my vision.

“What happened?” her forehead crinkled with concern, “What’s wrong?!”

“What’s wrong?! What’s wrong is you two appear to have seen something that you were never supposed to see.”

The voice hit cold and iron sharp, draining the empty hallway of all light and joy. Every hair on my spine snapped upwards, my teeth chattering in a fearful sort of dance. All of a sudden, the temperature of the hall seemed to drop by at least twenty degrees, and my feet shook in their sneakers. Trembling, my eyes shakily rose from Harley’s sweet, worried expression to the spot above her shoulder, no longer an empty patch of floor. Harley, too, turned, her face lightening up in an attempt to run towards the sudden speaker. But, as cold realisation began to flood my bones, I grabbed her shoulder and yanked her small body to my chest, silently praying for her to stay put without question.

“Oh please, you know what you did. Now come, Harley. Your cousin and I need to have a little chat,” Aisling’s voice echoed throughout the corridor like a snake, dancing along the clown-painted walls.

As I glared daggers at her twisted figure, I noticed the handle of something shiny sticking out from her jacket pocket- the same pocket her hand was in. A pistol. Harley quivered in my grasp; even she could tell something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“No? Fine then. I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way,” she wrapped her hand around the pistol, ominously drawing it from her pocket, “Five... Four...” I could practically see Aisling’s whole hand by now, just a blur compared to the shining gun, “Three... Two-”

“RUN!”

Unable to think, I grabbed Harley’s wrist and sprinted as far from Aisling as possible, dragging the poor child in my trail. Behind us, gunshots vibrated through the hall, screaming in my ears, but Aisling’s aim was weak and she failed to make contact with us. Mind running nearly as fast as my hammering feet, I dashed around corner after corner, through corridor after corridor, until at last, I slowed to a stop.

“Wha- wha-” Harley’s little voice shook, betrayal haunting her face.

But I couldn’t respond, couldn’t explain, couldn’t comfort. I racked my lungs for breath, but unable to find any, collapsed to my knees as I violently gasped for air. I had never run so fast in my entire life, but then again, I was never one for running. My chest heaved up and down, up and down, up and down, confused thoughts blurring my mind. What just happened?! Am I hallucinating?! Is this a dream?! Was that actually real?! But no answer came, just as none ever did. I was lost in my own favourite place, my second home since Marmie died and Mum started drinking. My own aunt, who was practically a third mother to me. She- She- Panic raced through my brain, my surroundings becoming blurry as I dove even further into my trauma-filled past. All I could think to do was hide, nothing else made sense. So, on the verge of being consumed by fear, I forced myself up from the grey tiles and tightened my grip around Harley’s hand. I couldn’t speak - my voice was far too shaky - but I managed to motion to a supply closet a few yards away.

Taking slow and steady paces, we snuck to the door and silently pried it open, ducking inside. The room was dark and drenched in despair, but at a time such as this one, it was also the ideal hiding spot. I towed Harley over to an unusually tall pile of what I assumed were boxes of fish food and shrunk behind it, pulling her down with me. Inhaling deeply, my shoulders began to sink as my panic subsided. We’ll get out of this. We will. We were safe - mostly safe, that is - and we’d find a way out of there. Or so I thought...

“Hey! Pst!”

It was only after my dread had finally slipped away, when I received three soft taps on my shoulder. Diving back into a pool of shock, my soul nearly lept from my body as I spun around in pure distress. Two bright, electric blue eyes hit me smack in the face, the darkness of the room slipping away to reveal who was lurking behind us. His face, pale-skinned and perfectly proportioned, with a cocky smile and sharp eyebrows, was bathed in the sparkle of his military-cut blonde hair. His sharp jaw tensed at the sight of my surprise, and he gently stroked my arm to calm my racing heartbeat. Like any intelligent young female, I lurched back and made as much space between the two of us as possible, which, in such close quarters, wasn’t very much. He winked at me, standing to reveal his oddly muscular build as he stepped straight over Harley and reached out his hand to pull me up. Of course. I should have known the moment I saw his annoyingly egotistic grin. Chad.

“Chad?! What the he** are you doing here?!” I whispered to the loudest of my ability, slapping his hand away and standing without this help, “You can’t be here, you imbecile!”

Chad gave me another one of his cocky smiles opening his smug little mouth to say, “I heard yelling. I thought I’d hide until I found the maiden to help. And look, I found you! Here you are, begging before me, a true damsel in distress,” he winked at me in the most irritating way possible.

Rolling my eyes I shoved him aside, bending down to make sure Harley was alright. I helped her to her feet, only spinning around to face the idiot boy after I had thoroughly checked her for wounds and blood.

“First of all, Chad,” I made my best impression of his poor attempt at a southern accent, giving him a dirty look when he dared to send me another foolish wink, “I’m not a stupid ‘damsel in distress.’ I’m fully capable of defending myself, thank you, especially from the likes of you,” Chad opened his mouth to counter, but I shut him off before he could speak, “And no, I don’t want nor do I need your assistance. I find it smarter not to ask for the help of self-centred buffoons. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Harley and I were just leaving.” I towed Harley behind me, pausing just in front of the door.

“You can’t leave. Where’re you gonna go?” his words cut through my skin, the harsh truth of them slicing far deeper than expected.

“You- you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harley and I both spun around, speaking the same words in unison like only cousins could.

“I heard the gunshots. I heard you screaming to run. I know what happened.”

“You don’t know anything,” Now that’s where I certainly wasn’t wrong.

“Let me help you,” Chad took one step toward us, then another, raising his hand to brush it against my cheek, “Let me... serve you.”

I slapped his hand away yet again; this poor attempt at kindness couldn’t fool me. I knew what he really wanted. Stupid Chad, always obsessing over me, always pestering me. I’d even lost my popularity by then, so there was no gain to dating me. As if I would ever date someone like him. I turned my back to him, hand already clutching the doorknob.

“I’m strong. I can, you know, lift things. Punch things. Punch people.”

Scowling, I twisted my head back to him, determined to get rid of him before it escalated any further.

“Oh please. If any punching takes place, it’ll be between me and you.” I clicked my tongue in distaste, praying that'd finally shut him up.

“But why would I punch you, my dear Yra?”

I could feel his cocky grin staring straight at my neck as I rolled my eyes so high, I thought they’d touch the ceiling. Exasperated out of my mind, I twisted the knob and stepped into the empty hallway, Harley hugging tight to my thigh. I could feel Chad’s presence still behind me, but I chose to ignore him. Glancing down both sides of the hallway, I took a deep breath and spun left, pulling Harley along with me as I tried to block out the thunder of Chad’s feet against the tile floor.

“You know, these clown wallpapers sure are creepy,” he muttered, pushing his shoulder against mine

I glared up at him in disgust, taking a solid three steps away from his bulky figure. Out of all the people to be found by, it had to be this boy?

“Shhhh,” Harley hissed.

Funny. Even the six-year-old was smarter than him. The clown wallpaper echoed through my mind as I forced myself to stay calm. I held Harley tight to my side, squeezing her hand in an attempt to comfort the poor girl. I would never let her go again. Reaching the end of the hallway, we slipped around the corner and continued right, towards what I prayed would be some sort of exit. No matter how long I had spent here, the aquarium was still a massive maze of twisted passages, and I had little hope of being able to navigate it. This hallway, shorter than the last, went by easily, and within mere minutes we were already spinning around yet another bend. The world was quiet, but not at peace. I would’ve described it as more on edge, waiting for something big to unfold. Suddenly, I heard it. There. There again! A sort of banging, yet also the thunder of feet. My eyes widened. Aisling’s high heels.

I pulled Harley off my leg, still keeping her tiny hand clutched in mine, and began to jog; Chad, too, decided to pick up the pace, though I wasn’t sure whether I actually desired for that to happen. Spinning around, the clang of the heels grew louder still, and, though my lungs were screaming at me to slow down and catch my breath, I forged forwards, accelerating to a run. Come on. You can do it. My hands were dripping sweat, my legs aching as I’d already run ten miles, but I finally managed to quicken my pace into a sprint. My eyes darting every which way, I dragged Harley behind me in a mad attempt to find an exit. Any exit. But suddenly, there she was. Of course. I’d gone the wrong way. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, fear etching itself into my skull. She still had the gun. And it was pointed right at us. I froze, unable to bring Harley to safety. I could hardly think, hardly breathe, hardly speak, so I simply held my little cousin’s body close to my side.

“Hello again, dears,” a wildfire of madness danced in Aisling’s eyes, something I’d never seen within her before but somehow knew it’d been there the whole time, “You just stay still, my little darlings,” she raised the gun, finger warping around the trigger as a cunning grin shadowed her once-pleasant face.

I have no idea what happened next. It made no sense, none whatsoever, yet it still happened.  I took another long, deep breath, trying to steady myself. I had to muster some sort of bravery, but none could be found. That’s when Chad did what he did. All of a sudden, Chad dove forward, nearly flattening Aisling. Caught by clear surprise, she lunged aside, but lost her balance and slammed her head against the demonic wall, dropping the gun. In one swift motion, Chad, already on his feet, reached down, grabbed the gun off the floor, and spun around, sprinting back to me. Still in a state of frozen shock, he took my hand and yanked me forward. Then, as if nothing had happened, we were sprinting again, down hallway after hallway, around corner after corner, until we came across yet another storage closet. Chad automatically swung open the door, shoving both me and Harley inside.

Still breathless, I collapsed against a large metal shelf, barely managing to form simple words.

“Wha- How-”

Chad approached me, resting his thick hand upon my back and muttering, “It’s okay. Shhh. You’re safe now. I’m here.”

Though that did little to comfort me, I couldn’t help but be grateful. Slowly, I steadied myself and rose to face him, back straight as his annoyingly hyper-masculine soul.

“Tha- Thank you,” I cringed, forcing myself to sound genuine, which, though it was true, was still a challenge given that I had the constant urge to slap him, “You saved my life back there. Harley’s life, too. And, though you still drive me crazy, I really am grateful for what you just did. So thank you.”

He smiled a kind caring smile, something I’d never seen on him before. Gaining confidence, I smiled back, hoping to appear more appreciative.

“You know you love me,” his sweet smile expanded into a cocky grin as he brought his lips to my cheek.

Of course. Chad Hampton couldn’t be nice. Chad Hampton could only be a selfish little brat. I shoved him away before his kiss made contact with my skin, slamming him into a stack of boxes as the contents, bags and bags of fish food, spilled across the floor.

“Shhhh,” Harley pleaded for us to calm down as I pulled her to my chest, trying to soothe the poor girl’s racing heartbeat.

Slowly and carefully, Chad lifted himself up from the pile of cardboard boxes, avoiding my eyes in a rather annoying manner.

“Chad,” I sugarcoated my words, trying to appeal to the dense boy, “Do give me the gun, will you?”

He tightened his grip around the revolver, glaring at me with those stupidly endless (or endlessly stupid) electric blue eyes of his.

“No. I only want to help you. So if it takes carrying a gun to let me do that, I will. Besides, women can’t be trusted with guns. You’re not strong enough to hold them.” his stare was locked on me, waiting for a response.

“Excuse me?” I knew now, I was gonna lose it, “If anyone deserves the gun, it’s me. You may have helped there, but I’m the one in trouble. So don’t you dare go and question my strength and my rights. I’ll do whatever I want and you can’t stop me. And I’ll have you know, I could pick you up and toss you off a cliff. I may not look muscular, but I’m smart enough to gain some strength for self-defence against men like you.”

He froze, shock written across his face as he opened his mouth to counter, “She- she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he mumbled to Harley, too intimidated to speak directly to me.

“They know exactly what they’re talking about because Yra is my cool cousin and they’re always gonna look out for me,” Harley rested her fists on his hips, glaring confidently up at the idiot blonde boy in front of her.

“That’s right,” I stepped forward and grabbed Harley’s hand again, “Now come along, Harley. I think we’re close to an exit,” Spinning towards the door, I paused, a pang of guilt echoing in my gut, “You- you can come with us if you really want to, I guess.”

I mean, he did save us. Maybe Chad still has some hope?

“Shhh.”

Poor sweet Harley. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through, and quite honestly, I didn’t want to. When this is all over, I’ll do everything I can to help her. If it would ever be over.

This time, I glanced toward both ends of the hallway before stepping outside the closet. Harley followed close behind me, Chad leaving a few seconds after her. Shoulder to shoulder, the three of us turned left and, with long, sturdy strides, made our way to the fork in the corridor. Harley, still very confused, started to turn left again, but I glided her in the right direction. Another hallway finished; turn right. Another finished; turn left. Another finished; turn right. There had to be some sort of exit! Somewhere... I glanced down at Harley. She looked tired, no, exhausted, and her eyes were practically drooping off her face. She needed a break. I quietly gestured for her to sit, and Chad and I followed her lead. Backs up against the wall, we remained imprisoned in silence, fearing the sounds of our own breath as we breathed deeply. That’s when we heard it. It was back. The clacking of high heels against tile. She was back. But this time, we had the advantage. We had the gun.

I pulled myself to my feet, Harley and Chad following suit. I glanced over at Chad, the pistol held securely in his tight grip. He winked at me and, extremely repulsed, I did my very best to ignore him. Moron still doesn’t understand that I don't like men. Vision glued on the corner, I watched as a shadow fell across the tile floor. Slowly, her figure was revealed: Bright red stiletto heels, tightly fit purple skirt, light blue blouse, cruel expression, and frizzy black hair pulled back into a bun. Her eyes locked with mine, cruel and empty like those of a serial killer. Suddenly, I felt myself being pulled back into strong arms. Loud footsteps rang through the halls, Chad’s face right up against mine.

“Wha-what are you doing?!” I squirmed in his arms, a failed attempt at escape.

“It’s okay. I told Harley to run,” he winked at me again, “This is just a distraction. Now kiss me.”

I wasn’t stupid. This was more than a distraction. He was- he was forcing me to...

“I’m gay, you idiot! Now get the he** off me!” I hissed, spit flying into his shocked face.

“Huh?” he reeled backwards, dropping me as my skull nearly smashed open against the floor, “But you- I thought- But you’re normal...”

My gut contorted in anger and sorrow. Normal. I was as normal as they came. Little homophobic a**hole didn’t know anything. Still, I couldn’t help but have the sudden urge to punch him. Unfortunately, though, I didn’t get the chance.

“Hey! Chad!” I hollered after him, panic and rage ringing in my voice.

But he was already running, sprinting, down the hall, gun in hand. And I was alone. Defenceless. Hopeless.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us,” Aisling smirked wickedly, pulling her hand out from behind her back to reveal the single-action revolver she’d always kept in her desk drawer. I hadn’t questioned it until today.

“I- I-” Terrified and exhausted, I stumbled around, picking up my speed into a clumsy sprint.

Racing down the hallway, I could hear the click clack click clack of her stilettos echoing off the walls. My breath hammered in my chest as my feet thundered across the ground. Come on, come on, you're faster than this. I spun left only to find a dead end, the clowns of the wallpaper cackling at my fear. The clang of the stilettos drew ever closer as my panic rose higher and higher. On the verge of a mental breakdown, I sprinted to the right and continued until I reached a large, grey door. Moving as quickly as I could, I slammed down on the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. The stilettos were screaming in my ears by now as I frantically tugged on the doorknob, but it remained frozen and unyielding. Screaming curse words at the top of my lungs, tears began to pour down my cheeks, soaking my clothes.

BOOM!

My breath caught in my throat, body suddenly frozen as an empty pain seeped through my veins. Warm red liquid dripped from my chest as I collapsed sideways. Painfully gasping for air, I watched as the blood pooled into a gory puddle around me. Though I couldn’t see her, I could sense Aisling’s presence behind me, gun raised in the air. My lungs shuddered like an old car engine, my soul slipping through my fingers. Vision blurring, my entire body faded to a weak numbness. I shut my eyes to block out the pain, submitting myself to be consumed by the cold arms of death, the only things remaining in that dark realm being the soft sound of opera and the dwindling tick of high heels. Click.               

                                          Click. 

                                                                                  Click.