Sapling

help me

Loren: I'm going to get her, right now. I have to.
[Mr Haughton stares at Loren as if she's gone mad. She returns his gaze with one of absolute determination. "Loren," he says, almost laughing. "You must be joking. I mean..." He falls silent for a few moments, before continuing. "To just go out there to look for your sisling without a plan or anything-it's incredibly rash. So many things could go wrong. Don't go, Loren, please. I'll help you think of a plan, but there's no way you can go today."]
Loren: Why ever not?
[Loren is being very stubborn, and she knows it. She knows what a stupid and dangerous decision she is making here. She knows what could go wrong. She understands all of the points Mr Haughton is making, but still she rests her case. She thinks about Mr Haughton, and tries to work out his weak spots, tries to think about the points she could make that would persuade him that what she is going to do is a good idea. Perhaps she could tell him that she would love him more if he let her go-but no, she decides that sounds too much like emotional blackmail.
Instead she gets up and caresses him. He softens slightly. "If you're going to do it, you have to be very careful," he reminds her. "Besides, you must have some sort of plan. If you don't, how are you thinking of finding out which childerling-home they're keeping Novica in?" Loren takes his point.]
Loren: Yes, well-I suppose I do have a sort of plan. I heard of this section of the government, called something like the Office of Childerling Care, and I think those thugs Mirtin and Bryon must work there. So I'm gonna find it cuz I know where the main government building is, so it should be easy from there, and ask to speak with Mirtin. I dunno his surname but hopefully they'll know who I mean. Not Bryon cuz he won't tell me nothing, and he'll make Mirtin tell me nothing too.
Then I'll offer him some money, ten Lingold or so, in return for him telling me which childerling-home Novie's in, and with any luck he'll tell me. I'll catch a bus to it if it's far away, and by then it'll probably be dark-around midnight, and I'll just walk on in and take her.
[Mr Haughton has some issues with this "plan", and is not afraid to express his uncertainties to Loren. "But how will you know where in the building she is? The place is probably split into age groups, and without a map you'll just be peering into all the dormitories, and someone will surely hear you wandering around." But Loren already has a solution to this problem.]
Loren: I'm pretty sure the doors'll be labelled, chz otherwise the teachers might forget who goes where. So I'll just look at all the labels until I find Novie's age group, and then I'll just walk in and wake her up. She'll go with me without any questions-I'm sure she misses me nearly as much as I do her. And I'll tiptoe so know one hears me walking about.
[But this is not Mr Haughton's only issue. He accepts this solution, and proceeds to outline every other loophole in the plan. Most of the time Loren can provide a foolproof solution, but occasionally Mr Haughton has to suggest his own possible amendments. He mostly takes issue with the final part of the plan in which Loren enters the childerling-home. A few of his problem are the fact that most of the doors will be locked, Novica might be in a deep sleep, and the teachers might still be awake. But after all of his problems have been solved satisfactorily, the plan is well-polished and ready to be put into action.
Mr Haughton is a little disheartened, because he knows that now the plan is perfect he has no reason to stop Loren from executing it. He tries desperately to plead with her, telling her it will be much safer if she waits until they've been able to gather more information about the childerling-home, but Loren will not be dissuaded. She is determined to see her sisling this very day, and nothing will stop her now.
"Please, Loren," he begs. "Stay here. The plan is as good as it can be, but that does not mean that it is not still dangerous. I love you, and if anything happened to you as a result of this..." He puts his head in his hands. "I'd hate myself. I'd blame myself. I'd feel like it would be all my fault."]
Loren: Yeah, but those thoughts would be lies cuz it wouldn't be anything to do with you. Anyways, I'm not gonna die, stupid, so whatever happens you'll still be able to see me and talk to me and I'll remind you that whatever happened ain't your fault. Cuz I love you too.
[Loren hopes she has heard the end of Mr Haughton's objection, but he continues to reason with her, telling her that waiting a few days won't change anything. But Loren is desperate by this point, and pulls away from this, eager to end this and start on the first stage of her plan. Although she enjoys Mr Haughton's company, she cannot help but think about what she could be doing instead: namely, rescuing Novica.]
Loren: Enough! Look, I'm going, ok, and there ain't nothing you can say that will make me change my mind. This is over. I'm going now.
[Mr Haughton receives a sudden rush of fear. Loren stands up to leave his house, but he reaches out and clings to her arm. "What if I never see you again?" he whispers. "What if this is the last time I ever see you? What will I do?"]
Loren: You'll see me again, silly. But even if you don't, it ain't the end of the world. You'll just find another girl who's nicer than me, cuz I ain't the nicest girl in the world, not even close, and you'll be happy and forget all about me. But I made a promise never to forget you, so I'll see you again when I'm surrounded by galaxies, stars and space-y stuff. That's when we'll meet. But don't think 'bout that, cuz it ain't gonna happen. We'll see each other again.
[He wishes she would sound just a little more sure that she's speaking the truth. Nevertheless, he hugs her, and she returns the hug. "Goodbye," he says. Loren winks.]
Loren: Not forever.
["No, not forever," Mr Haughton agrees. "But goodbye, and I hope when I next see you you've got Novica with you." Loren nods, and starts to walk out of the sitting room.]
Loren: Bye, Sobert. Seeya later.
["Good luck, Loren," he calls as she disappears from the sitting room. He listens as she puts her shoes on, and then he hears his front door creak open. He hears Loren's confident step leave his house, and then the door closes behind her-and she's gone.
Loren runs into her house to grab a few essentials before she sets off to put her plan into action. Food, check; water, check; money for Mirtin, check; keys, check; tissues, check, etc. After a few minutes, content that she has everything she needs, she walks out of her house and locks the door behind her, full of a certain purpose she has missed since Novica was taken from her. The sunshine seems brighter than usual, illuminating the small road on which she lives. Loren goes through the plan in her mind, making sure she has left nothing else, but mostly just looking forward to seeing her sisling again for the first time in two weeks.
The goverment building is quite far from Loren's house: roughly two and a half miles, making for a forty-five minute walk. It is near but not in the centre of Ling where all of the richer people live-this is also where the Lings' house is located. Loren has taken this walk only once before, when she had to walk to Werd's execution. Consequently, the walk reminds her of her loved one, and she finds it hard to keep her spirits high as she turns off her road onto the next. But the thought of Novica overpowers all of her misery at Werd's death, and she smiles as she ups her pace through the city.]
Loren: (I love you, Werd. I love you too, Novie. You two-the both of you, is all I got to help me stay sane. And Sobert. I felt bad leaving him back there. Maybe he was right. Maybe I should wait 'til I got a better plan instead of doing it all at once like I'm doing. I got control of my own actions and I say this ain't safe. But I'm doing it anyway, for Novie, and I know I'll feel better after I got her in my arms again.
Right. So. What am I gonna say to that thug-what's his name-Mirtin, thassit, what am I gonna say when I ask for him and also, what am I gonna say when I ask him where Novie is? Ughh. I can't do people sometimes. Or rather, I can't do talking to people sometimes. Ok, so when I walk in through the door I bet some people are gonna notice me-I bet they'll avoid me, but that's ok, 's long as it don't interfere with what I'm gonna dl. Then I walk over to the reception place or whatever you call it, and I say-I say... "Hello, I'd like to speak with childerling-care officer Mirtin. Tell him Loren Seen wants a word with him." I mean, yeah? Is that formal enough? I think so.
Hopefully they'll know who I'm talking about. And then they'll get Mirtin for me and I'll hope out the ten Lingold note and say, "You can have this if you tell me which childerling-home you took my sisling to a couple of weeks ago." If he claims not to know who I'm talking 'bout, I'll remind him 'til he does, and if he don't want the ten Lingold, I'll offer him twenty. Easy peasy. And then he'll give me what I want, which is the information.)
[Thirty minutes later, Loren reaches the government building. She stands to the side for a moment to avoid setting off the automatic doors, takes a deep breath, and walks into the building. It is filled with a crowd of bustling people, and Loren's biggest problem is trying to push her way across the lobby. Being feared is not an issue at all; the people are so intent on their own jobs that they do not look at Loren at all.
Eventually she reaches the other side of the lobby which features a reception counter, a lift and a map of the building. Loren quickly approaches the map, and studies it carefully. The government building is not large in terms of floor space, but it seems that is not important: instead of building out, the people in charge of the government building built up, turning the building into something of a skyscraper.
The ground floor only includes the lobby and the recptionist's office, while the highest floor contains the office of the most important government minister of Ling: the most powerful man besides the Lings themselves. Loren manages to find what she is looking for fairly easily-the Office of Childerling Care is located on the fourteenth floor. There is the option of stairs, but Loren decides to take the elevator.
Unfortunately there is somebody already in the elevator when it stops at the ground floor after she calls it; Loren was hoping it would be empty. A strongly-built man stands in the lift. He stands to the side when the doors open, and Loren steps in awkwardly. The metal doors slide closed. Loren and the man stand at opposite ends of the elevator and do not look at each other. Loren's heart is pumping.
Suddenly, the man looks up. He scrutinises Loren while she looks determinedly at the floor. "Are you Loren Seen?" he asks finally, causing her to look up. Loren does not trust this man; he clearly works for the government, and therefore for the Lings, and therefore he is her enemy. She hardens her face.]
Loren: Even if I am, what is it to you?
[The man lets out a loud, booming laugh that seems to fill the lift with its rich, mellow sound. After recovering, he smiles at Loren, and she notices with slight surprise that the smile is sarcastic, like the smiles of the city folk; nor is it fake, like the sugar-coated smile of Mr Ling; it is a genuine, amused face. "Apologies, Loren," he says. "This is all: I have been wanting to meet you for a while now." Loren, guessing his meaning, scowls.
"Oh, no, I assure you this is not what you think it is," the man continues, as if Loren verbally expressed her uncertainties. "I am not here as one of those greedy press people wishing to hear your version of Edwerd Ling's story in order to make hundreds of Lingold out of it-no, quite the opposite." He scratches his chin, deciding how to turn the story in his mind into word."]
Loren: You are from the press, though. I thought you worked for the government, but then I noticed your badge.
[Fixed to the man's lapel is the badge all members of the Ling press are required to wear. It is coloured a deep scarlet and has the letter P printed on it in bold capitals (this is not to be confused with the police badge, which is a royal blue colour). Loren's immediate reaction is disgust-her experiences with the press have been few but unpleasant. After Edwerd Ling's "mysterious" death two years ago, they flocked to her house, eager to hear her side of the story. Loren turned them all away. But this man-she decides-this man is not quite like the ones who came to her house; he is calmer, more genial than they were.
At that moment the lift arrives at the fourteenth floor and the door slide open, interrupting her musings. The man looks equally put-out. "This is where you are going?" he assumes, looking at Loren, who gives a quick, tight nod. "Then I shall walk with you a little while, and tell my story to you."]
Loren: Um. Ok. I'm a bit tight on time-
[Loren cuts herself off, realising she is genuinely interested in what this man has to say.]
Loren: That is, yes, you can walk with me. It's not a problem.
[She steps out of the lift, expecting the man to step out with her. But he steps further inside. "You are late for something, clearly," he says, frowning. "I don't want to hold you up with such a silly thing.]
Loren: I'm sure it isn't that silly. And no, I'm not late for anything-I'd like to hear you story.
["Very well then," the man replies, and steps out with Loren. He starts the story without delay. "Two years ago I published a newspaper article," he tells her. "Edwerd Ling had been reported dead a week ago, and, I was desperate to get the story. At first I worried somebody else would be tasked with writing the article, but I was chosen. I decided to interview the Lings themselves to make it a bit more interesting. They did not say anything of much weight at the beginning-but I made notes nonetheless-only the usual, Mrs Ling told how she was 'stricken with grief' and Mr Ling said that he'd happily have another childerling, but it just wouldn't be the same.
"Only right at the end did they say anything of interest-Mrs Ling said they suspected a young girl who had gone to the same school as Edwerd, Loren Seen, of committing murder on her sonling. At that moment she was overcome with weeping, so I left with my notes, and a couple of days later the article was published. Now, Loren, I ruined many a person's life with my articles, and everyone time I do so I feel so ashamed. I feel an urge to go to that person and say sorry. But I know that I can't, and that makes me frustrated.
"I never expected anything to come of the article. It was only suspicion, after all-they had no evidence on which to charge you with the murder. But it turned out that article ruined your life more badly than it ruined anyone else's, in my entire career as a journalist. No, you were not charged with murder-but yes, the whole city did turn against you.
"So-and apologies for it taking two years-I'm sorry. I thought I needed to say that to you, and maybe you needed to hear it." He looks at Loren expectantly.]
Loren: Oh, thank you. I never expected-never knew-there are three people in this city who are on my side, and I never imagined there being any more. Thank you. I forgive you.
[The man blushes. "That's good to hear," he answers. "And Loren. One more thing before I go. You did not murder Edwerd Ling. The Lings themselves did." Loren stares at him in shock.]
Loren: How did you know without me telling you?
["Well, after the article was published, I thought about it and I just had a hunch, I guess," he says. "I was interested and still felt ashamed, so I did some research and I really looked into it. And I found sufficient evidence to charge the Lings with the murder of their own sonling. I've wanted to publish my findings for months-but I know all they'd do is get me killed, and maybe you, too. So I haven't done it yet."]
Loren: I mean, I'm amazed you managed to actually find out good enough evidence. They did it so secretly. I had to go to the execution so I know. It was done underground in an old derelict building. But no. Don't publish it. I've learnt to live like this now, and I don't see the sense in going back, especially if it might get someone killed.
["I'm glad you think so," the man replies. "Well. It was nice meeting you, Loren." He looks down at his watch. "Actually, I have a meeting I need to get to. Goodbye." He starts to hurry off, and Loren waves.]
Loren: Goodbye. (Damn it, I never even asked his name. I mean, I can look at it on the article, but-well, never mind. He did me some good. I think walking into the Office of Childerling Care accompanied by him has made me look less suspicious. So. Thank you for that, I guess. Now to find that thug Mirtin.)
[Loren finds herself smiling slightly as she walks up to the childerling care reception. The woman she finds there looks at her warily over pink spectacles, before asking her business in quite a rude tone, Loren thinks. But luckily, Loren has rehearsed what she is going to say, so she lets it all out in a gush of words.]
Loren: Hello, I'd like to speak with childerling-care officer Mirtin. Tell him Loren Seen wants a word with him.
["Loren Seen? Really, now?" The rumours have obviously reached this receptionist, who is currently debating whether or not to turn down Loren's request. "And would you happen to know the surname of this Mirtin?"]
Loren: Well, no, I'm afraid. Only his first name. But I hoped-this is only one office of the government, and it can't contain more than one Mirtin, can it?
[The receptionist watches her drily. "I suppose not," she says. "Very well, I will ask for him. Wait there a moment. This should not take long." Loren does as she is told and waits patiently while the receptionist disappeared somewhere into the depths of the office. She taps her fingers on the counter to amuse herself. After what seems an age, she receives a tap on her shoulder, and turns to see Mirtin looking at her nervously. Loren tries to sound like she's one of those fairytale villains.]
Loren: Well, well, Mirtin, we meet again.
["We meet again," he repeats shakily. "What d'you want with me? Whatever it is, get it over with quick." Without strong, hard Bryon, Mirtin is at a loss, and regrets taking Novica away instantly.]
Loren: We need to go somewhere more private before I can tell you that. C'mon.
[Before he can react, Loren grabs Mirtin by the sleeve and pulls him into an inconspicuous corner out of sight of the rest of the Office. There, she releases him, and quickly pulls the ten Lingold note from her pocket and holds it out to him. Delirious with fear, he thinks she is giving it to him, and reaches his hand out to take it from her. She snatches it away, and holds it tightly to her chest, while Mirtin looks at it-rather longingly, Loren thinks. She indicates the note]
Loren: Now look here. You can have this if you tell me which childerling-home you took my sisling to a couple of weeks ago.
[Recovering quickly, Mirtin's face hardens. "I'm not going to tell you that," he sneers. "It's classified information. You think I go around giving out classified information for ten Lingold per piece of it? Keep your ten Lingold; I don't want it." All the same, it is a little-known fact that the Lings do not pay their workers very well-Mirtin was lying when he said he and Bryon earn ten thousand Lingold every month-in fact, they earn less than a tenth of that. So, in actual fact, Mirtin does want that money very much. But he feels like his pride will be hurt if he gives in to Loren, so he is attempting to resist her.]
Loren: You took my sisling away from me against her will. I honestly think this is the least you could do to say sorry. A man came up to me to say sorry for something that'd been playing on his mind for two whole years. And all he did was write and publish a newspaper article. What you've done is so much worse.
["Who was it?" Mirtin asks mildly, grateful for the distraction from the ten Lingold note in Loren's hand. "Who came up to you to say sorry for publishing a newspaper article?"]
Loren: It ain't none of your damn business, so quit asking.
[Mirtin makes a sour face at her. But then he turns back to the ten Lingold-he can't help it. By an effort of will he turns away from it again. Loren sees that this is not going to convince him if she doesn't change tack. It it a bit of a pain; she was hoping to get it out of him for ten Lingold, but it looks like she's going to have to try plan B. Sighing, she takes another ten Lingold note from her pocket and shows it to him.]
Loren: That's all you're getting outta me. Nothing more. Twenty Lingold for Novica's whereabouts.
[At the sight of the second note, Mirtin is overcome with greed. He cannot pull his eyes from the money. Looking up, he says very quickly, "Roseling's Childerling-Home. Twenty-three Millwood Street. You're welcome." And with that he snatches the money from Loren's hands, puts it to his lips and kisses it, before stuffing it into his pocket. Satisfied, Loren holds out her hand.]
Loren: Good doing business with you.
[But Mirtin has already hurried back to the Office with his twenty Lingold. Loren smiles.]
Loren: Greedy freak.
[Loren is glad that her business in the government building is done. She certainly learnt some interesting things here, but the one that simply cannot leave her mind is her new knowledge of Novica's whereabouts. She cradles it in her mind as she sets off back to the lift, wondering if her journey down to the ground floor will be as interesting as her journey up to the fourteenth floor. She is slightly disappointed when the lift arrives empty. Nevertheless, she steps inside, presses the correct button, and watches as the doors close.]
Loren: Roseling's. Roseling's. Sounds like a nice enough place. But it's probably a lie. Probably more like a prison full of evil alderlings using the childerlings there as slaves. Or maybe it ain't. Maybe it's actually ok. No way to know. Well, I'll hear all about it from Novica pretty damn soon if all goes to plan. Oh, there's nothing between me and her now! Nothing! Nothing! I'll see her! I'll see her today! Oh, nothing could be better, nothing! Nothing!
[Novica's name and the word "nothing" play on and off in Loren's head. When the lift doors open, she steps out feeling more confident in herself than she ever has before, all of her thoughts coloured golden and full of joy at the thought of seeing her sisling again. People turn to look at her as she leaves the government building, but they do not recognise her as Loren Seen: they see her as an aspiring young alderling living her life to the fullest. And they smile, too. Loren does not think she has ever felt happier.
Outside the government building is a conveniently-placed bus stop. Loren stands with a few other people in the warm spring sunshine as they wait for the right bus. The first bus to stop there is a bright yellow double-decker; it feels like years since Loren has seen a double-decker bus, and she is immediately struck by its size. A few of the people board it, and Loren herself steps in and smiles at the bus driver, who scowls back at her. "What d'you want?" he grunts.]
Loren: I'm sorry, but-does this bus stop at Millwood Road by any chance?
["Nah," the bus driver snarls in reply. "I never 'eard of such a place. Now, you gettin' on or nay?"]
Loren: Nay. Thank you anyway.
[Loren steps out of the bus, and watches as the driver presses the pedal with his foot and the bus screeches into movement. This time she has to wait a full fifteen minutes before another appears. It starts to rain. Loren steps under the bus shelter, and listens to the steady pitter patter as she waits, and thinks of Novica.
The next bus is the standard red colour, and not double-decker. Surprisingly though, more of the people waiting at the bus stop board this one than those who boarded the double-decker. Once everyone who wants to get on has gotten on, Loren once more steps up onto the bus. The driver turns to look at her.]
Loren: I'm sorry-
[He interrupts her. "Where you trying to get to, love?" he asks genially, hand poised over the cash register.]
Loren: Um. Does this bus stop at Millwood Road?
[The bus driver moves his hand away from the cash register. "I'm afraid it doesn't," he sighs. "I think that's on the other side of Ling. I'm pretty sure only one bus stops there."]
Loren: Oh. Well. Thank you anyway.
["Glad to be of service," he answers as Loren steps back off the bus and runs to the shelter before she gets soaked. Loren is disappointed with both pieces of information she has received: if Millwood Road is on the other side of Ling it will take a long time to get to, and if only one bus stops there she may be waiting a long time.
Her worst fears are soon confirmed. It is dark by the time the right bus finally rolls into the bus stop. Loren has been the only person at the bus stop for about an hour now, and she is shivering uncontrollably in the cold night air. It is red like the second bus she saw, but she is pleased to see that it is double-decker. There is something magical about double-decker buses: Loren will make sure to sit at the top where she can see over the tops of some buildings.
The rain has eased off, but Loren is still waiting under the roof of the shelter, because it protects her from the cold. She lets out a sigh of relief when she sees the bus, and quickly steps out from the shelter. She can only hope that this is the right one. The bus itself is empty-she can tell that much just by looking at it. As soon as it stops, she steps onto it and faces the driver who is quite an elderly man with a grey moustache which twitches when he looks at Loren.]
Loren: Excuse me, but does this bus stop at Millwood Road?
[The driver scrutises her. "Hop in," he says eventually. "Indeed it does stop at Millwood Road, ma'am. Are you going top or bottom?" Loren smiles gratefully at the thought of no more waiting out in the cold.]
Loren: Top, I think.
["Ah, yes," the old man says. "They all go top." He looks at her shivering. "You look freezing. Here." He takes a coat from the back of his chair and wraps it around Loren's shaking body.]
Loren: Oh, are you sure? That's very kind of you. How much to go from here to Millwood Road?
["Zero," the driver smiles. "On me. I'm not picking up no one else, so I'm just glad I can be of help to a fine young lady like you." Loren has never had herself described as a "fine young lady", and she is first surprised, but quickly adjusts to and even likes the warm feeling it puts inside of her. She thanks the driver as graciously as she can, and walks up the steep carpetted stairs to the top floor of the bus. There she takes a seat near the front and looks out of the window.
Ling is lit up. She gazes in wonder at all the illuminated windows she can see, and the light-up street signs. This is a view she knows is one-of-a-kind, and she feels very privileged to have gotten a chance to see it. Nocturnal Ling through one of the top windows of a double-decker bus is the stuff of dreams. It is a truly beautiful city-Loren only regrets that she hardly ever sees it as such because most of its people hate her.
The bus jerks into motion. Loren glances at her wristwatch: it's just after ten o' clock. She realises it probably will be midnight by the time she reaches Roseling's, just as she predicted to Mr Haughton earlier that day, or maybe even after. Suddenly overwhelmed with tiredness, Loren leans back into her chair, laying the driver's coat on her like a blanket, and it only takes a couple of minutes for the bus' steady rhythmic movements to rock her to sleep.
A screeching of brakes causes Loren to wake with a start. She looks at her watch again: half past midnight, and it seems that the bus is stopping. A moment later it has stopped completely, and the old man's voice calls up to her, "Millwood Road, ma'am!" Loren rubs her eyes. The sleep has done her good, but she feels slightly groggy as she gathers up the coat and stands up. But the thought of being so close to Novica quickly wakes her up, and she descends the stairs. She smiles at the driver and returns his coat. "You were sleeping up there, weren't you?" he says.]
Loren: I was, actually. I've had a busy day. I was really tired.
["Well, I wish you the best of luck wherever you're headed," he replies, winking.]
Loren: Thank you.
[Loren steps off the bus and pauses. She waits until the bus has pulled out of the bus stop before saying aloud her immediate thought when the bus driver wished her the best of luck.]
Loren: Cuz I'm gonna need it.
[She scans the road for any sign of life, but it all looks dead to her. Most of the houses are falling down. Loren cannot see anything that would suggest that there is a childerling-home here. Cautiously, she picks a direction and walks down the road. Millwood Road is longer than it looks, and carries on quite a long way before it intersects with another road. It is here, right at the end of the street, that she sees a group of buildings surrounded by a grassy area, which is surrounded by a fence. The buildings appear to be pink, and one of them says "Roseling's" on it in a pretty handwritten typeface.
She admits to herself that it does look quite welcoming. But then she remembers the prison idea she had earlier, and dismisses the idea. Setting every thought in her mind on Novica, she tries the gate.]
Loren: Locked. Damn it.
[And so it is that Loren decides the only way she can get into Roseling's is by climbing over the fence. It is quite tall, but Loren thinks she can probably scale it. She gets a good foothold and starts to inch her way up, but she has not even reached the top before an alarm starts wailing at her.]
Loren: Double damn it!
[Loren admits to herself that she half-expected an alarm, and as long as whoever comes out to meet her is a reasonable person, she can still get Novica back. She reaches the top of the fence and lets herself fall down into the grass, which cushions her fall. Then she gets to her feet, rubbing her shins.
But at that moment something happens that Loren didn't expect. She could never have expected such a thing. A loud sound pierces through the air, and seconds later a bullet flies past Loren's ear. She freezes. The gunshot is quickly followed by many more, and Loren knows she should be dodging them, but her body seems to have gone into a state of shock, and she find she cannot move. Loren tries and tries to wrench her foot off the ground so she can scale the fence again as quickly as she can and get to safety.
Loren is faintly aware of raised voices coming from the building, but they seem very quiet to her, compared to the deafening gunshots. She tries not to think about it-she tries to simply lift her foot off the ground-but it will not work.
Moments later Loren Seen succeeds in leaving her state of paralysis at the same time as a bullet screams through the air and slices into her stomach. She drops like a stone, collapsing in the grass, and feels immense pain but cannot make any sense of it. She stares ahead, and focuses all of her energy on staying conscious and, failing that, on staying alive. She can barely breathe, but she manages to take one gulping breath, and then she holds that air within her, and tells herself this cannot be the end.]
Loren: (NO. NO. NO. I AIN'T DYING. I'M-I'M DYING. NO, NO I AIN'T. I'M GONNA LIVE THROUGH THIS. I'M ONLY EIGHTEEN. TOO DAMN YOUNG TO DIE. NO. NO. NO. NO. I AIN'T DYING. LIVE. LIVE. LIVE. LIVE, GIRL. C'MON. Live.)
[As her thoughts calm down she takes another breath of air, and attempts to ignore the pain in her stomach. But it is impossible to ignore: if screaming were a sensation, then her stomach would be screaming. That is when she notices a dark silhouette close to the building. She is not even capable of feeling relief, but she gasps for another breath of air, and focuses on staying as still as she can. Her stomach continues to scream.
The silhouette gets closer. And closer. Loren realises someone is walking towards her. But she is numb to all feeling, and all she can do is keep on breathing and watch the silhouette as it approaches her. When the silhouette gets really close, Loren recognises it as someone she knows and loves more than the universe, but in her confused state she cannot put a name to the face. But that face is staring at her as if she is a ghost. She stares back, feeling like a ghost.
Eventually the person crouches beside her.]
Novica: No, no, no... it can't be you, can it? I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. Lorie. Lorie! Speak to me!
[Loren blubbers at her like a drowning fish as she attempts speech. But she finds herself only capable of two words, and realises she is probably incoherent anyway.]
Loren: Help... me...