Gone

Sandy sloped down the stairs, cigarette packet crushed in one shaking hand. No one questioned a resident heading out for a smoke at this hour. Her heart fluttered no matter how she tried to steady it with slow breaths. She headed down the wide staircase, one hand on the smooth bannister. Don't hurry. Act normal.

Where was the girl with stringy red hair who had been her ally here? The only other woman, amongst a crowd of unwell men. If not for her, Sandy would've felt alone and vulnerable. It was after midnight. The building had a haunted feel. The common areas had been locked to encourage every resident to stay in his room. The kitchenette was still open though, with the tiny ancient kettle and plastic mugs and spoons. Sandy ghosted past it, past the sun room with its craft table and out through the fire exit. She dragged a small chair over to stop it swinging shut behind her. All the residents were supposed to close it behind them, and then, unable to open it from the outside, walk round and knock on the office window. If Kerry had seen her go outside for a smoke, she'd be waiting for that tap on the window. When it didn't happen, she'd come out to check, and on seeing the door propped open, she'd sigh, roll her eyes, and close it, making a mental note to remind everyone in the morning about not jamming the fire exit open. The December air bit through her grey sweater, worn bricks digging into her shoulder blades. Sandy cupped the cigarette in bony fingers, and drew deeply on it. She felt like she'd been vaccumm packed since she'd been here, her skin shlooped to her bones. Where was her ally? She couldn't wait much longer, or Kerry would be doing her rounds and Sandy would be herded back inside. Breath quickening at the thought, and trembling head to toe, she crushed out the cigarette and pushed herself away from the wall. If I don't go now, I'll lose my nerve. Sandy walked away, the building looming at her back, every window an eye drilling into her back. She glanced over her shoulder, to check no one was peering out, and there she was! Face pale in the moonlight, hand laid on the window. In a blink she was gone. Sandy kept walking, her slip on trainers offering little protection against the stony path. Why didn't she come? A needling worry threaded through her brain that the girl had only ever been a figment of her imagination. If I don't even know what's real, should I be walking away? And where am I going to go?