It was a Monday morning, nothing looked different that morning than any other morning, but within minutes her blood ceased to pulse, instead it raced steadily though her: the first of many symptoms that something was wrong. The entire walk her eyes stayed lifted; each step was made deliberate and silent. She was nearly at the bus stop but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was behind her.

If she were to turn around it could completely give her away. Instead she turned her eyes to the back of her mind where she could faintly see a fuzzy image of a car not far down the street. She looked down at the pavement. On the ground her only shadow was the one from the moon, if there was a car, its lights were off. It didn’t want to be seen.