The silence of the night seems almost oppressive. She is unable to sit still; restless, she clicks again and again and again. Nothing holds her attention. She scans the pages before her almost desultorily.
Holding out the remote control, she presses a button. Soft music shatters the silence. Still, all is not as it should be.
She needs to rest. She will not allow herself to rest. But something in her is not in sync. Unbending. She cannot settle down, cannot concentrate on anything. Chewing on a mint dragee, she tries to focus her mind. It flits here and there, never remaining in one place for any length of time.
Escape. Wanting to escape. Wanting out of this existence. Too much. It's all too much. She can feel the walls closing around her. She looks around wildly. And the music plays on... Peter Cetera, You're The Inspiration. The lyrics ring in her ears.
She reaches for the telephone. Punches out the numbers to call the Befrienders. Anyone. It's 1:30am. But the receiver is replaced before the call can connect. She's spinning now, spiralling out of control. Isn't aware of what she's doing, what she's saying. Barely can articulate what she's thinking. She reaches for the implement. She's going to do it. Just this once. No longer a coward. No longer a wimp, a wuss, a chicken. Get out of here. Away. Away. The song changes. I wasn't the one who said goodbye I wasn't the one who disappeared in the night...
