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anxiety
/aŋˈzʌɪəti/
noun. plural noun: anxieties
a feeling of worry.
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~2 years ago~
"Why'd you do it?" She took a deep sigh and repeated her answer. "I didn't." She said breathing out her nose and twirling her thumbs underneath the metal table, trying to keep the sickening feeling in her stomach calm. The tall man in front of her stops pacing and slams his clipboard onto the metal surface. The loud clang reaching Alana's ears, her body jumps at the sudden noise. "Then explain how you were covered in his blood and were the only one there." He says pinching the bridge of his nose. Her mind traces back to that night, pulling her from reality.
Her feet trudge tiredly under her. 'It's over. My long day is finally over.' Her cold hands reach her neck and she rubs her tender shoulders trying to relieve some of the sharp pain. Alana lets out a deep breath finally reaching her street. "Ughhh." A groan comes from the dark alley beside her. She looks down it with curiosity, pulling her bag closer to her chest. Stupidly, she allowed herself to be carried down the alleyway by her feet. Her body comes to a sudden stop along with her heavy beating heart. She drops her bag and races to the man lying helplessly on the wet concrete.
"H-ey, are you okay? What happened?" She looks to his stomach where a tall knife sits lodged. She gasps, pressing her hands on the wound, making the man inhale sharply and pull her hands away. "D..don't." He breathes out. "B-but wha-what can I do for you if you won't let me help you," Alana says stuttering at first but gaining confidence. He chuckles but winces as the pain hits his stomach. "Just...g..go...you don't want...to be here..when the police...come... A...Alana." She froze hearing her name fall from his mouth. "What? How do you know my name?" She asks putting her hands back on the wound, much to his discomfort. His eyes start fluttering shut. "He-hey! No-no-no. Stay awake." She says shaking his arm softly.
Sirens sound from behind her, slowly getting closer and making her widen her eyes. "Hey please keep your eyes open!" She begs hoping he can explain what happened to the police. Bright lights shine in her eyes. "Put your hands up and walk forward slowly!" 'Alana.' She throws her hands up and does what they tell her. Knowing running will only make it worse. 'Alana.' Getting close enough to the police they grab her arms and shove her face into the ground, wrapping cold metal tightly around her wrists. She winces. 'Alana!'
She snaps her gaze off the wall to the tall man standing outside her cell. "You're out." She pauses in her thumb-twiddling, which had become a habit of hers. "What?" He sighs opening the metal door. "I said, you're out. Someone gave us enough evidence to get you out." Alana's heartbeats heavily against her chest. "Really? By who?" She asks hoping to catch them and thank them. "He left a few minutes ago, you might be able to catch him but if not, he left this." The man says passing her a small piece of paper with a number on it.
Once the man releases her of her cuffs she races out the building. Alana looks left and right desperately looking for the man that was described to her with very little information. 'There.' She thought, seeing the man walking slowly away from her, his dark brown hair waving in the wind. "Hey!" She shouts after him sprinting at her full capacity. He turns around and time seems to slow down as she sees the man who was the reason she went to jail in the first place. But how. He wasn't alive. He stopped breathing. She looks down at the ground. 'Wait ...I didn't check.' She thought, realising for all she knew he could have run as soon as the police left. She looks up to see him gone. He left. Alana spun head in all directions searching for the man. But he was gone.
She scoffed out. Throwing her phone across the room. She laughs silently to herself. 'The number doesn't work. He played me.'
