Hysterical. They told me I was hysterical. Me, with my hair in a practical bun. Me, with my steady voice. I knew I shouldn’t have worn a dress today. He rushes me out of the office in a hurry. He didn’t want me wasting his time. Night surrounds me. I reach for my car keys. My purse! I left my purse in the station. I turn and try to open the door. Locked. Shades drawn. Could they really have closed this early?

After ten minutes of knocking I decide to just walk home. The muggy June air surrounds me like a thick molasses. The streets are absolutely silent and shadows seem to follow me. I miss New York. The lights never stopped shining and there were always people. I stop and look around me. A shadow of a lawnmower, a red house with a light. I am lost. I turn back. But I am restrained. Thick hairy arms like logs surrounds me.

Not missing a beat, I jab him with my knee and pepper spray him. Amazingly he doesn’t scream. I sprint back to the police station. It’s definitely closed now. No one but the night crew but there job is to get the real cops. I don’t know what kind of a twisted place this is but the door is still locked. I sit down, defeated and begin the long task of waiting.