Ice all over her feet the snow falls down gliding beautifully onto her head, a contrast to what's In front of her. she's back in the same place where she vowed not to. The blood stained the ice skating rink, the dead of the night howling through her ears watching him. There she stood frozen, not because of the cold but because of the scene in front of her. There, a boy trying to be free from the grasp of men, getting stabbed by one of them. Behind her were the eyes she knew all too well, not the eyes of comfort but the eyes full of rage and anger. They were watching, judging. She was doomed and she knows it will be her last breath—

  Fall woke up sweaty, her heart racing faster than it should be. She was gasping for air and her cheeks were not stained with sweat but as well as tears.

  “just a dream” she mumbled to herself as the lingering dream was still in the back of her mind.

  She looked around trying to find some reality that it was indeed a dream. She was inside her own apartment. As morning came to the window hitting her face. She sighed resigned, it was always an occuring dream. She didn't even know why she had those dreams ever since she moved out. Maybe it's just something in her mind that plays tricks on her.

  She got off the bed and started her day. A typical day for her, brushing her teeth, making her favorite toast and eggs while having some music in the background. Grabbing her notebook scribbling notes no one knows what it is for. After that she showered. Her mind kept wandering back to the occuring dream, lingering behind the background as if it was a ghost haunting her.

  She wore a tank top and a jacket above it, some pants comfortable enough to move, and she looked at herself in the mirror the last time. Her raven hair still damped from the shower, the wavy curls prominent in the back. Her dark brown eyes clearly tired from the recurring nightmares she's having. She grabbed her bag and walked out.

  The morning city is always a blessing and a torment to her own. The peaceful lullabies of the birds that chirp every morning on the neighbor’s tree, the cars that passed by going to work or even the dogs that barked. It was peaceful making it seemed that the world was mocking her that she's living in a peaceful environment yet her life was the most chaotic mess a person could ever have.

  Other girls her age are at university preparing for school every morning, trying to survive academics and heck even has a dream they wanted to reach, but here she was walking towards the bakery to help an old friend. Trying to survive everyday life instead of just school and extracurriculars.

  She arrived at the supplier and grabbed the ingredients that needed to be delivered towards the bakery. She quickly headed out riding her old motorcycle that someone gave.

  “Mr. Leon, here's your ingredients” Fall called as soon as she entered the small bakery shop.

  A big man got out of a small door wiping flour from his own hands. He smiled at Fall

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  “Thanks dear, just put it in the back. come on” Mr. Leon greeted genuinely as he grabbed some of the ingredients helping Fall.

  As soon as Fall dropped everything in the counter Mr. Leon spoke up.

  “Mr. Williamson just dropped by here by the way to give this to you” He then gave the young girl a brown envelope.

  Fall accepted it and opened just to glance at what's inside. It was a series of papers she knows damn well what it is for.

  “Why did he give me this?” Fall asked as a sudden tense from her own body was seen.

  “Wouldn't you want to know what really happened back then?” Mr. Leon tilted his head confused.

  “I mean why now?” She asked again.

  “I don't know too, Mr. Williamson just said to give that to you if you pass by” Mr. Leon sighed resigned.

  Fall nodded. Questions lingered through her mind as she walked away going back to her own place.

  The walk was silent yet her mind was filled with questions. As her mind was chaos, her senses were restless as well. She found little bits of noises from the world. The truck driver shouting at the traffic light, the boy throwing tantrums on the street. Vendors shouting and advertising…. Hiraeth was a small city from the outskirts. Yet despite its peace provided by the place, Fall seemed so restless. Small movements made her alert, shadows from her peripheral vision kept her awake at night and even the slightest of noise she needed to stop just to be sure she's safe and hidden. As if she was running off something….

  When she arrived home she quickly placed down the envelope grabbing papers from it. It was a series of news from the calendar of what happened that night. Everything was the same. Yet as she grabbed the last paper a small polaroid fell down. It was a picture of a man laughing. His hair curled, tanned skin with freckles on his cheeks. His smile was boyish enough to know that he was her same age. Yet it wasn't his smile or his eyes that took her off guard. It was the tattoo in the man's right arm. A tattoo he knows very well.

  The tattoo is small scribble lines creating a silhouette of a fox. Fall knows that anyone who has this tattoo was a member of an underground organization. An organization where killing no mercy is the only rule for them.

  Fall quickly tidied the place as it was time for her to walk going at the restobar not far from her apartment.

  The crowds from the RestoBar she's working at seemed bustling with liveliness. The noise from the music, the chatter from the drunken men, the glass clinking. The lights were low yet she saw everything—that guy pocketing a tip that’s not his, the woman who keeps checking the door like someone’s about to walk in with a gun. She knows when a fight’s about to break out before anyone throws a punch. Her instincts never turned off. Can’t turn off.

  She walked to one of the tables getting their orders, it was a normal routine for her. Getting orders, giving their needs, providing a facade. Yet deep down a nagging feeling of someone will one day find her is in the back of her mind.

  She was wiping the tables, the usual thing she does. Cleaning messes, hearing the same music all over again, drunken men laughing, at this point she got used to it.

  “Hey, have you heard Mr. Williamson? He was found dead this morning from a tall building, they say he jumped off the building, but isn't it weird? He was just fine yesterday…”

  The words of a stranger stopped her from what she's doing. She silently glance at the two women chatting about the suicide.

  “Mr. Williamson” She muttered underneath her breath, the grip of the handkerchief in her hand tighten.

  They are starting to wipe again, they are making a move.

  And she knows that it will

  It will be a short amount of time before she's going to be next.