I stepped harder on the gas willing myself to get further away from Spencer's, from Rosewood, from Philadelphia. Ali couldn't be alive. She would have told me if she was alive, she would have shown me. I turned onto the highway embracing the freeness of the traffic. I had to get away from Rosewood. To New York. Ensure my secret was well hidden. Ensure it was still there. If Ali gets her hands on it I'm dead. Alison fucking DiLaurentis. Died too young. Murder gone unsolved. Alison DiLaurentis is dead. One hundred percent dead. Alison DiLaurentis is not alive. Right?

I pulled my coat tighter around me avoiding the lecherous staring from the broken men that stood in small groups. A cold draft flew down the narrow street, causing the small pieces of rubbish to dance at my feet. The only source of light came from broken street lamps, throwing distorted shadows onto the graffitied walls on either side of me. This was a place I hated to venture to alone. The reason it was safe.
"What are you doing 'round here pretty girl?" A man breathed into my ear, tucking a piece of hair behind my it. Breath heavy with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, I recoiled coughing at the stench.
"Come on pretty girl, I can give you the night of your life." He slurred his words, pulling me into him with his free hand. I felt the dried blood on his cheek rub against my own, the vomit on his shirt filling my nostrils.
"Get off of me!" I determinedly pushed him away, walking quicker down the street. I was so close to the alley way, I was not giving up due to some drunken hobo. I heard him call a slur of drunken insults at me as I turned down the alley, pausing to relax myself at the end. In the shadows I felt safe, no one could see me shake. No one could hurt me here because I was invisible.
I pushed open a heavy industrial door to my left, sliding into the abandoned warehouse. I flicked a switch next to the door and watched the place come to life. The lights slowly flickered on, illuminating a place I used to love. A quiet stream of music started playing through the p.a system, a playlist created by Jason and I. The conveyor belts that made a maze through the vast space began to move, creating little noises from the reminders that Jason and I had left behind. I felt a warmth in my chest, tears welled up in my eyes. This place was Jason and I. If it wasn't obvious by those things, all you had to do was look at the walls. The messages we had drunkenly scrawled, the elaborate drawings engraved in to the vast wall space. Our own blood, sweat and tears smeared into the foundations of the warehouse. I spun on my foot and headed up a rickety staircase towards a cluster of offices. Walking down the hall I knelt underneath a boarded up window, running my hands along the wall for the slight ridge, a ridge you wouldn't feel unless you knew about it. I quickly found it, popping out a small section of the wall. It was there. A layer of dust collecting on the surface. I slid it out, popped the piece of wall back in place and ran down the stairs. I jumped on a conveyor belt, letting it push me to another staircase which I darted up, pushing myself up onto the beams that held up the ceiling. Kicking off my heels I delicately walked through the asterisk of beams, careful not to fall. Gently lowering myself onto an unrecognizable beam, I slid the surface off, opening a hollow in the wood. This is one of the many hiding places Jason and I had discovered, a place where I knew my secret would be safe. I stuffed it in, slid the piece of timber back in place, and cautiously made my way back to the staircase. One more beam and I would be back on safe ground. In the closing distance I felt my foot go out from underneath me and I let out an ear-piercing scream. I flung my arm up, catching a strong hold on the beam above me. I swung my other arm up, holding tight. Dangling like a spider from it's web I looked down at the messy cluster of machines underneath me and hitched a breath. If I let go now it would all be over. No more secrets. No more fear. It would all disappear, along with my life. Letting go would only be a temporary solution to my problems. My secrets involved others. They would get the blame for everything if I let go now. They would have to deal with the fire I left unattended. I mustered all my strength and swung back onto the beam, gripping it tightly. Inching towards the staircase. I would make it. Everything would be okay.

I walked out of the warehouse feeling a lot safer, a lot more confident in my every move. I may have told Ali about the ridge in the wall, but she knew nothing about the hollow beam. She couldn't ruin my life, even if she tried. I still had the leverage. I had the ball in my court, and if she is alive, that is the one thing she would know for sure. As I turned back to the narrow street my phone rang, and I answered without looking, presuming it would be one of the girls.
"Nikita." The voice sang into the phone and I immediately froze, terrified beyond belief.
"Don't be scared." It sang again, this wasn't real. I must have fallen from the beam, fell into a coma. This was all part of my imagination.
"This will only hurt a little." Ali chimed and that was then I felt it. A strong-arm snaked around my waist, another holding a cloth over my mouth. I began to feel drowsy, nauseous. The last thing I heard were words from the drunken man.
"You'll go home with him, but not me? Slut."