The Prologue:
Alicia's eyes flash open in unison. The familiar four walls serve as a relief more than anything else. Clean, crisp bedding and no shift to get up and out for. Sun peeks in through the gaps in partly-drawn curtains, urging her that it is morning. Dark hours of crying and writhing and being scared of the night are over once more. Relief.
Her toes wriggle to the seams at the end of the duvet and curl back in on themselves. She hesitates and lets the cool soothe her clammy skin. Idly her mobile hums against the oak table, resounding against it with vigour. There's a certain sense of guilt brought in by every buzz: countless calls and messages left unanswered by people whose only crime against her is caring. But it's much easier not to get into any sort of dialogue.
Abundant quietness and space to be introspective is going to be her healer. She stumbles through into the hallway, head still fuzzy and every last movement sleep-addled. She takes the door off the latch and pauses for a moment. Her hand then meets the handle of the door and it is opened. Warmth of early summer hits her in the face. A squeak. Glancing downwards, she notices a corner of the cellophane-wrapped flowers is caught under her bare toes.
Distinctive. Surprising yet expected all at the same time.
Her heart has never ached as much.
