ÒWhat happened?Ó I hear JackÕs voice break the silence. I pause for a second wondering how much to tell him. ÒI fellÓ I say knowing that IÕm not really answering his question but feeling too tired to think up an elaborate response that will satisfy him. ÒNo, before thatÓ I nod my head, still avoiding looking straight at him and knowing what he is referring to. He must have been watching me, perhaps he was the one that alerted them of my fall. I know that there is no point in lying to him as he would see through it in a second, I answer truthfully but still reveal little. ÒI had a bad dream.Ó Watching him out of the corner of my eye I catch a faint look of remembrance. Perhaps he still remembers the way in which Laura would wake in the middle of the night startled and restless, always from what she would say was Ôjust a bad dreamÕ. Or perhaps he doesnÕt remember and my mind is simply looking for something that isnÕt there. ItÕs rather hard to tell, Jack has become quite a challenge to read, he wasnÕt always like this. He used to be so much more open, especially around me. It is not easy for me to look at him, to see this broken man who I have wounded so deeply that I feel he may never truly recover. The bits and pieces of Laura which remain still a part of me are screaming at me to do something to heal these wounds which I can not heal. To undo what I had already done and draw away the pain I so cruelly inflicted on the only man who ever really loved me.

I can feel the tears building up in my eyes and as much as try to recall them they will not listen. I shut my eyes and a single tear escapes my grasp and falls to linger on my cheek.

I am drowning. The water surrounding me and crushing me, the quiet is deafening. I am pulled out whether by someone else or by my own strength I know not for I no longer am capable of feeling the world around me. Everything is black and white, the world has turned gray. The colors which once lived have been washed away. I am soaking wet, the water dripping down my body hiding my tears. My so-called saviors can not tell that I am crying. I had tried so hard that day to kill Laura off, but I had underestimated her strength. She was too stubborn, she refused to die, refused to remain buried. And no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to forget, no matter how many times I told myself and my superiors that she was dead, she lived.