Day had changed into night and night had changed again into day. Exhausted as his body was he kept running, kept searching for his missing love. There had been no sign of her for hours. On he ran stopping only to call her name in an ever increasing tone of desperation. After still no reply and running until it felt like his lungs might burst and his legs detach themselves from his body for the sake of freedom from their ceaseless torture, he let himself fall to the ground. He lay silent for some time before finally succumbing to the emotions he had fought so hard to hold back. Rolling himself onto his stomach he buried his face into the sweet smelling grass and wept.

Man after man, woman after woman they queued. No one seemed to move as they waited at the desk for a member of staff to arrive. Every now and then a flash of red would appear only to vanish in the blink of an eye. Throats grumbled and bellies rumbled as the clock chimed the hour. Those waiting in the queue envied those that had stuck to their beds tucked up in sweet slumber while they, they waited for something that seemed as if it would never come. When what the people sought had finally arrived their wait was not yet over, they watched helplessly as the woman in the red shirt made herself busy arranging her desk before acknowledging the queue that rested in front of her.

"Next customer please." The woman droned as if she had been put out by the queue's presence.

And so the customers filed forward one by one to be seen to. Some smiled sweetly at the woman out of nothing more than good manners while others frowned at her and threatened to lodge a complaint with the Airport, her employer. None could say that they had received service like that before at the supposedly world renowned Greentown Airport, normally it was of a much lower standard.

Making her way over to the desk once she had reached the front of the queue a woman stood in front of it and waited to be acknowledged. She leant heavily on her crutch as her tired legs began to ache. When the woman behind the desk did finally look at her it was with a look of utter contempt.

"Name please," The woman sighed.

"Robyn…Robyn Kitchlovsky." Came a strained reply.

Distant voices called to him but he ignored them. He wasn't ready to be summoned back to the real world from the world of dreams that he had slipped into in his exhaustion. The real world was too painful for him, it would force him to face up to what was happening, to the fact his love was missing and that he had failed to find her.

Again the voices called to him but still he kept his face buried in the sweet smelling grass of the fields around him. His eyes opened when the smell brought back memories of him and his love lying side by side as they looked up at the sky or sat at opposite ends of a luxuriously soft blanket enjoying a picnic. Closing his eyes again he fought back the bitter sting of threatening tears. Pushing himself up shakily with his hands he moved himself into a sitting position and looked around.

In the distance he could see two men walking towards him across the fields he had searched tirelessly just hours before. Their uniforms were clearly visible underneath the warm afternoon sun and he knew that whatever news they had come to give him wasn't good. As they drew even closer he could see their faces and the grim masks projected upon them. With deep foreboding he stood up and waited for them to draw close enough so that he could hear what they had to say.

"Mr Kitchlovsky?" One of the police officers asked when they had come up level with Kit.

"That's me." Kit replied trying not to show just how apprehensive he was at the sight of the two officers in front of him.

"I'm Sergeant Phillips and this is my colleague Sergeant Pembry. We're from the Greentown Police force."

Kit nodded, "Have you found her yet?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. None of the other police forces in the area have had any luck either I'm afraid."

"She can't have just disappeared."

"We understand that sir, do you have a photograph of Robyn that we could circulate around premises to see if anyone recognises her."

Kit nodded and pulled his wallet from his pocket. Opening it he pulled out a photo which he hoped would prove useful. As he studied the photo he could feel tears pricking at his eyes again. Fighting back his emotions once more he handed the photo to Sergeant Pembry and frowned in concern when the sergeant started after looking at it.

"What the devil is the matter with you, John?" Sergeant Phillips asked noticing this rather unusual reaction to a photograph.

Sergeant Pembry ran a hand across his sweating brow before looking up at his colleague, "Nothing, well, it sounds weird but I dreamt about this woman a few months ago."

"Really?"

"Yes. No offence, Mr Kitchlovsky, but I shot her. It was an accident I promise."

Kit shook his head, "It's no problem. It was a dream after all. Could I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"She didn't kill you by any chance did she?"

"Erm…yes…yes she did. How do you know?"

"I'm psychic."

There she stood in the middle of the bustling departure lounge. In her hand she held the ticket for her flight. Something at the back of mind told her that she shouldn't be doing this but she ignored it. She had to get away, she had to go to a place where no one knew her, knew what had happened and knew that she was the bastard child of a man she had loved as a father before she knew the truth. Looking up as her flight number was called out she took a deep breath and headed for the plane.

This was the only way.