It was creepy in these alleyways. Creepy enough during the day, even with the shops open and people milling about.
In the darkness ,the shops closed-shutters down and locked- the buildings were too tall to allow the moon to shed any light on her footsteps. The only illumination
came from the dim glow emitting from the fake victorian gaslamps which the powers that be had installed to provide 'more atmospere to the towns historic shopping quarter'. In their wisdom the powers had also painted the lamps a tasteful liver colour. If the intention had been to give the feeling that anyone with leanings toward a Jack the Ripper style hobby would feel comfortable in these surroundings then the project had been a great success.
But the girl liked the atmosphere of fear at night. It didn't bother her. In fact it often suited her moods - frequently dark and foreboding - and the silence gave her time to think her thoughts, again often dark, occasionally violent (though never towards any particular person). on the night in question her mood was darker than usual.
All she wanted,with every fibre of her being, was to be in a place where she could feel she belonged. Where no-one could tell her what to do or who to be,where she could be awake- or not-where she could see people or not and be kind or cruel according to how she felt at the time.
But such a place did not exist. In her small town world she was at the mercy of her parents "while you live under our roof etc", her boss "if you don't like working here - you know what you can do", her so-called boyfriend "you would if you really loved me", even her few friends didn't seem to understand her need for darkness.
Consequently she spent a great deal of her time alone, walking the dark depressing back streets of the town everyone told her she should call home.
