BORN TO DIE, MIKEY

[ANA BLACKWOOD]

it hadn't been that long since ana had found the note. the note that told her everything about jan, what he had attempted to do to her, what the carvings in her thigh were from. it was bad enough before, but now she couldn't even think about it without nearly vomitting. those three letters, jfj, would mark her forever. mark her as his? she didn't know. the thought made her shudder, though. she'd been holed up in her house in a blur of alcohol and tears. if you asked her about if she had been crying, she would deny it in a split second. ana blackwood didn't cry. ever. besides, if she did own up and admit she had been crying, she would have had to tell you why. and she wasn't going to tell anyone about january. she just couldn't handle it. that was her secret, one of many. and if there was one thing that ana was good at, it was keeping secrets.

but after a day or two of missing work and classes, it dawned on her that she wasn't really safe. not at any given time, not even when she was in her own house. he had been to her house. several times, in fact. he knew how to get here on his own, or he had it written down somewhere, or he had a mapquest search in his history. it would be sickeningly easy for him to find his way back here, and that was the last thing she wanted. she never wanted to see him again. that was impractical, of course, because they went to the same university. because they lived in the same town. because he had tried to kill her once before, and now that she knew the truth, she doubted that he would leave her alone. she couldn't tell anyone what had happened, couldn't go to the police- not with her history. there was no place that ana really felt safe.

but there was.

mike was a member of the fbi, sure, so maybe she couldn't tell him everything- or anything- about what what was going on with her. but she could feel safe with him. she knew this much. he was a goofball, he was a hook up of hers, and he was becoming a really good friend. she could trust him. getting in the car, she rubbed her eyes, careful not to smudge her make up. she hadn't had anything to drink in a few hours, didn't smell like alcohol, and had perfected the art of drunk driving anyways. so none of it mattered. she started up the car and drove towards his apartment, a place she usually only went at night. but here she was. in the middle of the day. hopefully he wasn't working, because if he was, ana wasn't sure what she would do with herself. quickly, she devised the lie that she would tell as soon as he opened the door. she needed to move in with him, because the rent was too damn high. the best way to lie was to tell a half truth. the rent was very high, for living on her own, with only a barista's wage. of course, the fact that she blew a lot of her money on cocaine probably didn't help. but no one needed to know that.

parking, she entered the complex, going straight up to his door and giving it a firm knock. he wouldn't be expecting her, why would he? she gave no warning, she didn't call ahead. and yet she was going to ask if she could live with him. maybe this was a bad idea. but just as she was about to go, the door swung open, and she smiled. "hi," she said, her smile widening. "can we talk? is now like... a bad time?"