1-144 - Overprotective mother hens

Sitting up, Stacey found herself back in a bedroom. It was still dark. Her heart raced from the fading nightmare she could no longer remember. Fear gripped at her chest. She remembered finding a safe place earlier. Perhaps she should go find that place again.

She wondered how long she had slept for this time. There was something she had wanted to do. She just couldn't remember what.

Her breathing settled down and Stacey put her head to the floor to peer out the gap under the door. A line of light in the corridor shone in through the crack.

She heard the shifting of feet on one side of the door and a shadow swayed. A cough came from the other side of the door.

Pattering over to the other side of the room, she peered out the window. More shadows stood guard out there.

Stacey glanced over at the small bed behind a screen where one of the girls that looked after her took turns to sleep in to keep watch over her during the night. She was sound asleep. She shouldn't disturb her.

There were sharp pains in her feet when she walked around. It was very uncomfortable. Even if she left, it would be a painful journey to get to that safe place.

Her tummy growled. Hmm. Yes. She should eat first. Good idea.

Stacey slipped out of the room and the girl behind the screen woke up, immediately sticking to Stacey's side.

"Sorry," Stacey apologised. "I didn't want to wake you up."

"It's alright," the girl yawned and smiled. "Where are we going tonight?"

"Hungry," Stacey said, carefully negotiating the stairs with her sore feet. The guards at the door followed behind her.

She had a sudden sharp image of someone pushing her down the stairs. Not these stairs, but other stairs. She had tumbled head over heels, while those expressionless, black, pointy high heels had glared down at her.

Thankfully, the stunt training she had been given had helped her know how to fall, and so she had only gotten a few bruises.

When was that? Where was that? Her memories were scattered.

"My lady?"

The girl beside her was hugging her on the stair where she had been swaying and the bodyguards had surrounded her, to block the way or catch her. Stacey wasn't sure which.

"Yes?" Stacey blinked. "Why have we stopped?"

"Are you alright?"

"Sure," Stacey nodded, pushing them away.

These overprotective mother hens could be so annoying. She ran down the stairs and with a blink, found herself sitting on the kitchen floor.

"How'd I get here?" she asked.

"You tripped, my lady," one of the bodyguards told her.

"Oh," she nodded. "I see."

She stood up and found herself at a storefront. The lights were out. Stacey squeezed down the tiny alley to the back of the shop where she found the flimsy door unlocked. Or maybe the lock was broken. She crept inside and found the safe place she remembered. It smelled mildly of old sweat. Borrowing the blanket on the bed, she curled up underneath it.

Mm. Yes. This was the best place. Very comfortable. She could sleep now.

~~~

A big, muscly man who looked way too big and heavy for the chair he was sitting on sat beside her with his arms crossed. He did not look happy.

"I'm so sorry," said a familiar man in the charcoal uniform of her guards. "She slipped away when we weren't looking."

"Obviously," the muscly man snorted and glanced over at her. "Little lady, please explain what you were doing here under the bed earlier?"

"Sleeping?" Stacey sat up and fidgeted with the blanket. "Beds aren't for sleeping under?"

"On, little lady. Beds are for sleeping on, however what I want to know is how you got back here. I thought you went home last night?"

"I did," Stacey nodded. "Then I came here."

"Why?"

"I got scared. Someone pushed me down the stairs but I don't know where or when. She didn't like me. She said I stole someone from her," Stacey said. "So I came here. It's safe here."

"How'd you get in?"

"The door was open," Stacey pointed.

"It wasn't. It definitely wasn't," Grices growled rubbing his face. "It was definitely locked when I checked it this morning. You almost gave me a heart attack when you started screaming. You startled me out of bed." He showed Stacey his knee. "Look, It's bruised. Why were you screaming?"

Stacey thought hard.

"I was screaming?" she murmured.

With a jolt, she found herself standing at the foot of a staircase, staring at the wall. She peered at the wall and pointed.

"A knife. He had a knife. He had a knife and said he was going to kill someone. I screamed and he ran away."

"There's a chip in the wall that wasn't here before," the big muscly man examined the wall. His dark eyes examined Stacey. "Did you see who he was?"

"Dark," Stacey shook her head. "The knife was reflecting light."

"Did he see you?"

Stacey shook her head again and pointed at the sick bay bed.

"I hid in a safe place," she smiled proudly. "He couldn't find me. Then you came down and it was more safe."

"Are you saying that when I came down to find out who was screaming the place down, the guy with the knife was still here?"

"I heard the cupboard," Stacey drifted into the laundry, opening the cabinet. A kitchen knife was lying on the ground there.

There was the bang of the back door and the men started. Exchanging looks, they raced away. One to the back door and another to the front. Both were barking orders to other guards in uniform. People ran everywhere.

To stay out of the way, Stacey crept back under the bed to sleep some more.

"Pay attention, Stacey."

A pen rapped the table and Stacey jumped. She squinted at the teacher who pointed at the papers in front of her on the table. She squinted at the Tadpole cuneiform and slowly the chicken scratchings turned into words. Was she studying in a classroom now? It looked like she was.

A blink and she was lying on the floor, staring at a ventilation grill screwed into the wall beside her. Her body ached.

Shiny, black high heeled shoes stepped into view.

"Didn't I tell you to get lost? Why are you still here?" a female voice dripping with malice snarled at her.

"Where am I?" Stacey rubbed her sore head. It felt like someone had been pulling her hair. "Who are you?"

"A brain damaged moron like you isn't worthy to stand by my Thieren's side," the woman kicked her and Stacey yelped. "Go on. Get out. I don't want to see you come back again."

Stacey frowned at the concrete emergency staircase.

Where was she? Where were all her overprotective mother hens?

Outside the door, Stacey found herself in a quiet side garden. There were a lot of bushes here and a bench covered in bird poo. It was a dead end on one side. There was a sign at the front of the building. It read, 'Stanza Entertainment Agency'.

Stacey looked up at the tall building in bewilderment and rubbed her sore backside. It felt like she'd been kicked there. Exiting the front doors, Ning came running to her with a haggard expression.

"There you are, my lady. Where'd you go?"

"I found the stairs," Stacey told him. "The stairs she pushed me down. She pulled my hair and kicked me. My scalp hurts," she lowered her head and pointed.

"Where?" Ning asked. "Show me."

"I forgot," Stacey lowered her head, feeling ashamed, while Ning looked at her scalp.

"How about just now?" Ning asked her. "Where did you come from just now?"

Stacey led him to the side door and Ning frowned. He took out a bunch of keys and opened the door. Inside, he looked up at the concrete emergency staircase.

"Oh. We found it," Stacey said. "This is the place. She told me to get lost. She said I was a moron and not worthy of Thieren. Who's Thieren again?"

"Your husband," Ning patted her shoulder and led her out another door back into the main building. "Hold my hand. Don't run around. I have to make some phone calls. Hold my hand."