Bedlam - Monday evening

[xp_daytripper]

Lights flickering on-off-on-off in a staccato rhythm, mesmerising her until she makes herself remember what she's doing. In their blueish glow she scrubs unsuccessfully at her hands in the sink, the dirt ingrained now and beyond mere water. She can't take too long, someone will come thinking she's a junkie shooting up, maybe even OD-ing, she's been able to read it on their faces as she walks in. For an invisible person she fells horridly under scrutiny sometimes. Or is that paranoia, thinking everyone was watching her? It's not paranoia if dey really out t' get you, chere chuckles a man's voice in her head and her hands twitch, splashing water over herself. For a second she thinks she sees movement in her peripheral vision and she turns, only to remind herself she's the only one in the echoing public toilet. Cold tile and dripping water and the rank smell of industrial grade cleaners unsuccessfully battling the stench of effluent. She'd sleep here if she could get away with it, but the cleaners are merciless.

Cleaners. Clean. That's right, she was trying to get clean. Filling her hands with water she splashes it on her face, scrubbing at the crusted dirt and blood with her fingers. When she drops them, her reflection in the mirror is flanked by another, a woman with unruly dark hair and sad eyes. "I'll have the files for you," she whispers, her reflection's cracked lips moving silently. "Just give me time to find them, Boss Lady."

Her red-rimmed eyes are wet with water, blurring her vision, and when she wipes them dry the image was gone.