Leaning against the railing of the third story balcony, Ellette looked over her view of old town Steinberg. Leeson Avenue roared below with late evening traffic and the people who made up the nightlife were just beginning to gather in the rundown Leeson Avenue Park. It was not exactly a heartening view, through the smog, noise, and heat that seemed to hang in the air, but Ellette had grown used to, almost fond of it.

The traffic noise died down as the night progressed. Music from cheap radios, shouts, arguments, and occasional laughter of the street people, bums, drunks were beginning to drift up from below. She had lived in their world once, and it still was a part of her, though now she could never imagine going back. She sighed and turned away, cutting short the shout of a drunken wino as she closed the sliding door. She leaned back against the door and looked up at the cracking ceiling. Still, the muffled sounds threatened to breach her sanity.

She went to the stereo and found a cassette. After a couple of failed attempts, she convinced the fossil to play. Soft and airy music of flutes filled the small apartment quite adequately covering the sounds she'd wanted to drown out. Only the occasional clatter of dishes as her roommate worked wonders in the kitchen interrupted the sweet music.

She padded softly on bare feet to the entrance of the tiny kitchen to watch Rand as he slaved over another one of his interesting concoctions. He stood over the stove barefooted, in worn blue jeans, faded tee-shirt with the logo of a band no one but he had ever heard of printed on the front. His dark hair hung to his shoulders, long in need of a trim in Ellette's opinion, and his fingers twitched as if fingering the tunes of an imaginary flute. The fluttering of his fingers drew her attention once again to the not so old scars that ran from his fingers all the way up his arms. Despite their unspoken agreement to avoid discussion about the past she could not help but wonder what he could ever possibly have done to aggravate such a brutal attack.

"I assume you have inhaled enough smog for one day?" Rand asked, breaking her sullen thoughts.

"Hhhmmm." She hadn't realized he'd heard her come into the kitchen, but he always seemed to notice little things like that. Perhaps he'd noticed something he shouldn't have once... She put the thought dutifully aside and pulled a stool up to the counter that served as a table for the two of them.

He glanced at her briefly, trying to read her mood. "How's the job?" he asked, stilling his hands from their almost involuntary animation and wiping them on his pants.

"Money in the bank," she said half-heartedly, watching him massage his scarred fingers. She sighed and rested her chin on her folded arms.

"That bad?"

She smiled faintly at him. "No. I'm glad to be working." She ran a hand through her cropped, jet-black hair, fingering out a knot at the base of her neck.

"Why so melancholy then?" he asked.

She shook her head, not quite knowing the answer herself. She watched him stir the contents of the pot for a while before answering.

"Watching the street life always seems to have that kind of effect on me."

He nodded knowingly, or else in rhythm to the music.

"Sometimes it feels like those people down there, the ones the rest of the city have forgotten are the only ones who really know--" She paused, trying to express herself clearly. "Like they're the only ones who know that there is something more. Some kind of underlying current to life, and only through what society doesn't understand, that is rejected and seen as insanity, are they in touch with it." She flung her hands up in exasperation. "I don't know, something like that."

Rand laughed, a soft rumbling sound that always seemed to lift the mood. The conversation ended at that, and they moved on to other subjects as the evening wore on. Despite the ease and carefree air, the somber feeling seemed to follow her the rest of the evening.

Ellette found it nearly impossible to sleep that night; tossing and turning when her normally vivid and lifelike dreams failed to come. She could partially blame that on the fact that she really didn't want them to. Finally, she sat up on the pull-out couch where she slept, the shadows hanging across the room like dark, gauzy veils, and listened to the night. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm was sounding, a dull background sound that blended with the chirping of crickets. Closer was the soft rumble of the occasional car and the buzz of the neon lights.

Bits of conversations and laughter drifted through the walls from the apartments around her as well as from the street below. In his room, she could hear Rand moving in his sleep and the soft rhythm of his breathing. Above something thudded and laughter followed the sound. Ellette wrapped her arms around her legs, unable to block out the sounds, but not exactly sure how much she really wanted to. A TV droned next door, and some cats engaged in a duel in the alley.

She got up, the cot springs voicing their protest, and stared at the apartment around her, transformed by the night. The shadows seemed to pull at her, rousing childhood fears and nightmares in their depths. Warily she moved through the shadow-filled room to the sliding door of the small balcony. The scraping sound of the door as she slid it open seemed to echo through her head, a sound that didn't fit in the dream-like setting. She stepped outside, the heavy night air pressing around her. She stared out at the once man-made world of Old Town. Her heart fluttered in her chest, like a bird trying to escape. She longed for something, something more. The wilds of the night and this ancient part of the city reclaimed by wilderness held that something.

"Ellette?" Rand's inquiring voice shattered the tranquility. She turned slowly as if the air had thickened to a restrictive gel. He stood in the dark room, his face eerily obscured by shadows. A cool wind rose up behind her, causing the hair on her arms to rise and the curtain she could not remember being there before, to flutter. She opened her mouth to explain that she just couldn't sleep, but it just fell open once Rand stepped into the light.

She failed to hold back her cry of horror and despair as she saw all his scars once again open and oozing, his fingers broken and disfigured. His face was bloodied and bruised, just as it had been that night long ago when he'd been attacked. Only this time there was no life left in his eyes, they stared lifelessly past her, and she backed away. His body like a puppet on strings, limp and inanimate, yet still moving, imitating life.

She knew there was nothing she could do for him this time. She felt hot tears of both grief and terror burning trails down her cheeks and backed away once more. The balcony railing stopped short her retreat. She glanced briefly at the street below and the world began to shake. The creature that had once been Rand called her name again through his rotting lifeless lips. She screamed again, her heart thumping wildly and tears streaming down her face. "Ellette... Ellette..."