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I run.

My steps take me away from him, uneven as I bolt down the corridor.

Tears stream down my face in a constant abandon, blinding me as I shove the washroom door open and stumble inside, my hands shivering.

I purse my lips to stop them from quivering and fall on the ground. A broken gasp rips out of me. Then another. And another.

Mirror. Door. Tap.

Hands. Phone. Next. Next. Shivering. Cold.

Pain.

Air—

I need air.

The latch from one of the cubicles open just as I hear a loud pounding on the door.

“Elara?” Sergei’s voice travels in the air like a thick fog surrounding me. I look around, vision darting wildly, to hide, and find Alina walking out of the cubicle.

Her steps falters when she notices me sprawled on the ground, my knees buried closer to my chest and she squints her eyes once.

The door rattles again and I shiver. If Alina has any questions, she doesn’t ask, she just hauls my unfeeling body up.

My legs barely cooperate as she half-drags, half-shoves me back into the cubicle she just left.

“Lock the door.” She says and I can only nod.

I fumble with the latch, fingers slipping before it finally clicks into place. I collapse onto the toilet seat, my body folding in on itself.

I hear the main door opening with a loud bang and cover my mouth with my hands, forcing myself into silence.

“Oh! Hi Sergei.” Alina’s voice turns syrupy-sweet and my heart stutters violently against my ribs.

“Have you seen Elara?” Sergei’s stoicism cracks through the closed door and reaches me, his voice alone slowing the rampant storm swirling within my chest and I force my breathing to even out, dragging in shallow, shaky inhales through my nose.

“Elara?” Alina hums. “Is she my pet?” Alina pouts getting a mere low grunt in response. “Sergei, you know I’m the last person you should be asking for her whereabouts, hmm?”

Silence and then. “Fuck!”

I hear a lot of shuffling, and my brain immediately spirals into overdrive.

It only settles when the sound of heavy footsteps receding echoes in the corridor.

I stay in there for a while, until a loud rasp on the wooden door forces me to get up.

“He’s gone.” Alina’s voice, stripped of that sugary edge slides through the wood and I nod forgetting the barrier between us before stepping out.

“T-thank you.” My voice trembles, even though the worst of the panic has already burned through me.

She doesn’t dignify my gratitude with a response. Her back turned to me as she watches my reflection from the mirror, applying a lip balm on her lips casually.

“The man chased you for—” she cuts herself off.

My interest piques, but I make sure not to show it. Instead, I turn on the tap and splash cold water onto my face.

The girl in pink stares back at me as black fog coils around her hands, inching higher with every passing second.