I own nothing, I'm just borrowing them.


What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other? - George Eliot


I sit here on the small bed in the ER, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in my head and the sharp stabs that keep shooting up and down my left arm everytime I move a little. I've been waiting for the doctor for thirty minutes already, ever since I woke up. There's a mirror right in front of me and I have to wince at my appearance, the left side of my face is a deep purple, covered with scrapes and blood. When I look down I realise that the rest of me doesn't look that great either. My formerly pristine white shirt now has brown smudges of dirt and red stains of blood, my blood, all over it. And then there's my arm of course, also covered in bruises and scrapes, not to mention very broken.

I sigh heavily when the events of today run through my head and I can feel my heart pick up speed when I remember what landed me in the hospital.

It had been a normal wednesdaynight and I was working the graveyard shift with Davis as usual. It was a slow night and the two of us were watching re-runs of Bewitched and eating the pineapple pizza we ordered while I told Davis about the trouble Harrison had gotten into just two hours earlier (he was now sitting at home nursing his broken nose, black eye and two cracked ribs), when Jack hollered us out of our semi-vegetative state, telling us in the most unappropiate manner that a new body had come in.

Her name was Tina Hayborne, seventeen years old, just a kid. She had been raped and strangled in the park and for some reason the murderer had cut off most of her hair. She'd been to a party at the local college and had taken a shortcut through the park home. Time of death was 11.30 pm. A shiver ran down my spine.

And then she looked at me and asked for help, and I woke up in my bed.

I thought it would be an open and shut case. I had Davis call the police to give them an anonymous tip that a rapist was on the loose in Waverly park and then all I had to do was make sure Tina didn't walk through the park, in which I succeeded. I pretended that I had to walk her way and made sure we took the long route, through well-lit streets and dropped her off at her home safe and sound. I felt elated, it was only 11.10 so I could still make it to the morgue and eat pizza, watch cheesy Bewitched episodes with Davis and tell him about Harr...

I checked my watch again: 11.10 pm. Harrison didn't get beat up until around 11.30. I tried his cell several times, but he didn't pick up. The club where he was playing cards was halfway across town, but if I took a shortcut through the park I'd be able to make it.

So focused on my task, the thought of the murderer currently walking around that same time didn't enter my mind. At least, not until I was shoved against a tree with such force that the bones in my left arm, which was pinned between my body and the tree, snapped. At this point I realised that I had taken Tina's place as the victim, I screamed my lungs out as I fought the bastard off, hoping the police would hear me.

That's when he hit me in the temple with a rock. Searing pain went through my skull and the whole world started spinning. The last thing I remember is a blur of flashlights and someone with a badge telling me I was safe now. After that everything went black.

I woke up in the ER of Grace Hospital.

Suddenly I'm reminded of my own mortality. If I hadn't been reliving this day, there would be no police in that park, no one to save me. Of course, if I hadn't relived this day I wouldn't have been there in the first place, but that's not my point. Things like this happen to girls my age all the time, but I'm always there to ask for help and save them.

But now I have to wonder, if this happens to me, who's going to be there to help? My mind's answer chills my bones just a little more: No-one. I'm on my own. All alone.

Suddenly I feel someone grasping the hand on my good arm and I look up to see Davis look at me with worry.

"Oh God Tru, are you alright. The hospital called me as soon as you were brought in." He smiles at me now, just a little. "I didn't know I was your emergency contact." He seems touched by this and I begin to smile back at him, only to stop when a shooting pain goes through the side of my face that that bastard hit. So instead I just shrug.

"Why not? You're my best friend." I'm surprised at how raspy my voice sounds. Davis nods and I can swear he's blusing a little.

Once the doctor has fixed me up the police come in to collect evidence and take my statement. I realize I'm shivering.

Davis puts his arm around my shoulders and squeezes my hand with his own.

And all of a sudden I no longer feel alone, but safe. I may not be able to get his help in situations like tonight, but I'm not alone. I know he'll help me through this.

No, I'm not alone. I have Davis. My best friend.

I think I'm going to be alright.