He's Watching Me by Wesley Thomas Page A

as Laura barged into them, swaying left and right as her feet fought for control. Then, reaching the first step, she began her expedition downwards, clinging tightly to the bannister. But despite efforts to maintain control of all muscles and movement, her legs became tangled.
     
    This sent Laura tumbling hard; head over heels. She spun sideways to the second floor, continuing on to the first. Her skull repeatedly smacking each stone step, laced with carpet. It was only now that it became clear how thin the carpet was, painfully thin. A continuous pounding bashed her eardrums as the noise of her own skull cracking brought nausea. Consciousness hung in the balance as Laura became woozy. Her vision was a surreal blur of stone and red carpet illuminated by a sliver of moonlight. Laura's head throbbed as her bag of bones smashed each and every step. Clonk, clonk, clonk. But Laura was disturbingly at peace. At least I am moving, she managed to think in the spiralling chaos. A painful spell that seemed to last an eternity soon came to an end when smooth, cold beech wood came into sight, with rugs plotted around like small pools of blood. Laura collided with the wood hard.
     
    The air held her for a couple of seconds, waiting to spit her out at just the right moment. The first time Laura had truly been at peace was in this instance, floating, free from gravity, temporarily. The air cradling, the freedom. But then reality came into focus, and hit her with a clout, literally.
     
    Laura felt as though she had been dropped from a ten story building, declining through the sky for a millennia, and then finally crashing against earth. She slumped but somehow maintained consciousness. Every crack and crevice of her was thumping with every type of anguish. Pins and needles tingled everywhere. A whooping swung around the insides of her skull as she tried to concentrate on making the necessary preparations to stand. Hands were the first to co-operate, pushing Laura from the ground until her torso was vertical. Next, the knees lifted her like a fire-fighter rescuing a damsel in distress. But it was her soul that held, a brawniness that kept her steady. But then the demons of her cranium made recent occurrences come to light, in a foyer with nothing but darkness. A vast space with shadows and statues, some resembling people. Stone figures prowling in the sombre hall.
     
    The rainbow of stresses all held within one man shone in front of her, as if he were actually there. Then the thought boomed, he could be here any second . But, to balance the situation, and keep equilibrium and maintain a natural order, there was a policeman at the other side of the front door. This gave her thighs and calves no choice but to follow her wishes. Laura drudged onwards as if wading through a lake containing a litter of sleeping snakes, administering caution with every step.
     
    Which led her foot to touch something squishy, and wet, almost causing her to slip. Caught unaware Laura almost slipped on the substance. By this point her eyes had adapted to the lack of light and she looked down to see the cause of this. Laura struggled to remain vertical when her eyes fell upon the bloody corpse of a police officer.
     
    She felt like a ship that had just crashed against jagged rock, optimism leaking out and anxiety piling in. And her own vessel being dragged downwards, succumbing to sways of giant sea waves. That was her lifeline, the life raft on this voyage of tremors, and with the snap of two fingers, it was gone. Taken from her grasp. Had the criminally insane individual had time to do this? Something did not fit into this jigsaw puzzle.
     
    This innocent man, this selfless officer of the law. This could-have-been hero was spread out on the wooden beams, blood spurting from a deep slit in his neck. The gouge allowed plasma to empty energetically, red fluid leaking onto the floor forming a large puddle. The navy uniform soiled, uneven and torn. His face was