Hayley shivered as she walked home from work, partially because of the autumn chill in the air, but mostly from what she had seen in the factory. There had been an accident. This was not uncommon where she worked, but Hayley had never actually been witness to one. The boy who always worked next to her, Paul was his name. She didn't know him well, but he had always been so polite. And he was young, much too young to have wasted his life in that factory only to get meager pay…and to be caught in that machine. Oh God, she could still hear his screams…
…the whistle of a passing freight train jolted her out of this tragic memory. Hayley stopped walking and looked around to gain her bearings. She had been following the railroad tracks that ran near the tenements, but rather than stopping when she reached her neighborhood she had kept walking along in a haze. She turned around, determined to actually make it home this time.
Hayley did indeed make it to her apartment building on the second attempt and slowly began to realize how much trouble she was about to get in as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. It was still early in the afternoon, she usually didn't return home until well into the evening. Hayley had just walked out of the factory after the accident, she could not bear to stick around after what had happened to poor Paul.
"What the hell are you doing home?" Hayley's father demanded as she walked through the door. She ignored him, instead heading towards the washroom. Looking in the cracked mirror, she barely recognized herself. Her face was white as a ghost and she noticed a few drops of blood spattered across her temple and her dress. Hayley scrubbed her face and softly shed a tear for Paul.