She made the long journey back home from work, completely exhausted from such a long day in the storage room and from constantly thinking about the little piece of paper John left with her. Granted, he was a wonderful joy to work with, always polite and friendly, loved talking to her, intelligent - pretty much reminded her so much of her father to the point that it hurt sometimes. She tried to shake off the strange look he gave her today, but it was a little bit harder then she anticipated; he seemed so distracted, so uncertain. Charlotte had continued to harass her about John having a "crush" on her at work till the end of her shift - leave it to Charlotte to tell horribly tactless jokes. She cycled through songs on her iPod, trying to find something more comforting and suitable to ease her mind while she rode on the subway. Peering up at the map, she realized her stop was coming up - besides who could even understand the conductors anyway when they sounded like they had socks in their mouths as they spoke over the loud speakers. The doors open and she hopped up, stepping out the door and for a moment she stood on the platform watching the train pass her quickly before disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel. She could hear the typical beggars asking for money, the guys playing guitars to try and become "something" more then a squatter on in the subway system and she was guilty of caring about all of them. She dug through her pocket for some change and tossed some in every person's bucket/hat/cup that she passed by. As she got to the top of the steps she closed her eyes, enjoying the much "fresher" air of her neighborhood, the cool, crisp breeze that whipped past her. The street lights were on as the sun had already started to prepare for it's slumber and that was exactly what she needed to do - sleep.
John had followed her from her job all the way to the quiet streets of the pristinely kempt neighborhood she lived in. He watched her behavior with the beggars - such a sympathetic soul, yet she seemed to have little sympathy for herself. John followed behind her very slowly in his car, watching her carefully. She was rubbing her arms to chase the cold away, having forgotten a coat, her midnight colored hair blowing in the cool night air that seemed to envelop her. He had taken the liberty to do a little research and found out that she had been seeing a psychiatrist for some time, he even got the chance to get the information from the notes the psychiatrist took - self loathing, emotionless, overwhelming emotional lacking the ability to express it properly, inability to cry for 6 years, lacks self confidence; it was everything he didn't want to read about such a unique individual, but John knew that the good ones seemed to get broken much more easily then others.
She wanted to get into her apartment and get out of these clothes, heading up to the front door and unlocking it to step inside. She closed the screen door to allow the cool air to circulate through the apartment. She set her keys down on the counter, smiling as she was greeted by a soft mewl and a warm fuzzy kitty rubbing up against her legs before it hopped up on the counter. "Well hello to you too Tiger." scratching behind her cat's ears, she reached into the cabinet above the counter and pulled out a can of food, placing it in the bowl and setting the bowl down on the counter for him. With a quick scratch to his neck, she stepped into the living room to turn on the TV - she liked the background noise, it gave her comfort and made her feel more at home; plus she would be distracted from her thoughts. Stepping into the bedroom, she quickly shed her scrubs and wandered into the bathroom, starting up a bath - there was nothing better after a long day at work. Once her bath was drawn she stepped into it, sinking down into the hot water and closing her eyes as she leaned her head back. She stared at the ceiling for a good 20 minutes, not really thinking of anything at all, and was only snapped out of her daze by Tiger greeting her with a quick rub against her wet arm hanging down the side of the tub before discontentedly prancing out the bathroom "You big baby, it's just water." She smiled and pulled the drain on the tub, drying herself off and putting on some rather comfortable sweat pants a tank top, wandering out into her living room again. On her way she noticed the small paper John gave her laying in the middle of the hallway and picked it up, setting it down on the end table by the couch and heading into the kitchen to make something to eat. Cup-O-Noodles it was; simple and easy, she just added hot water, stirred it up and carried it into the living room with a glass of water, sitting down on the couch. As she propped her feet up she glanced at the TV, the current show on was America's Most Wanted and she idly ate her dinner, watching the various faces pop up on the screen, the various stories…well they were all horribly heartbreaking. Out of the blue she suddenly stopped eating, slowly lowering her fork, her eyes quietly trained on the television as it spoke of Dennis Wilkerson. The name sent chills up her spine, caused her heart to skip a beat, and caused the threat of tears to beg to be released from their cage. The man that killed her mother was on the screen, staring right back at her, heartless, still at large, still killing innocent people and to make matters worse, they started to talk about her mother's death, about how she was brutally murdered, about how she suffered - oh god. She felt sick, quickly setting her dinner down on the table with the spoon next to it and sat up on the edge of the couch. She quickly found the remote and changed the channel, then leaned forward, folding her hands and placing them over her mouth before dropping her head down.
Scattered on the table were light blue colored pills mixed with some white ones. She was unconscious on the couch, Tiger rubbing against her hand trying desperately to get her to get up and give him attention, but there was no way he was going to wake her up. The screen door opened and her cat quickly took off, hiding under the bed in the bedroom. John slowly walked through her house, peering into the kitchen briefly before looking around the corner to see her lying on the couch - more then likely she was asleep and he didn't want her to wake up. He had been watching her house cautiously to see if anything unusual was going on, had looked through the window a couple times and saw nothing abnormal, but what he saw before he turned around changed his mind. The pills scattered across the table, the paper he gave her sitting there on the table with the words "cherish your life" glaring daggers at the limp body of the girl lying on the couch. John sighed, clearly distressed by what he saw; no, not her, she didn't need to fall victim like so many others. He was furious but sad at the same time, slowly walking over to the girl and kneeling down in front of the couch. He took hold of her wrist, checking for a pulse which luckily was still there, but very shallow - so this is what she did every day after work. It wasn't normally in John's nature to really handle his "prospects" but he couldn't just leave her here like this. He grabbed a blanket from off the back of the couch and draped it over her, looking down at her for quite some time; she deserved so much more then this, he had to at least try and save her from this life she was living…even if she died trying. Although John felt a sense of concern, he was clearly furious over her horrible choice to basically starve herself of life. Shaking his head, he scowled and walked back out of her home, turning off the light in the hallway and shutting the door behind him. It was time and he had all he needed - the game needed to begin and she was his next endeavor.
- - End Flashback - -
