Hey, thanks for clicking on this story despite the terrible description! I won't lie, you will probably regret reading this story as I have not flexed my writing muscles in a very long time and I am extremely rusty, but I have some free time before uni starts up so I thought I would post anyway, why the hell not right? … Anyway, it might be a one shot, I might decide to add some more chapters, i'm really not sure about the story yet so only time will tell.

Her heart was pounding. Her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, the cold morning air slicing down her throat as she inhaled frantically. She was running. Where? She didn't know. She just knew she needed to run. Away from that room. HER room. The room that used to provide her with comfort after a long, hard shift in the ED. The room that had been so appealing to her when she bought her new home.

House. It didn't feel like a home anymore. That was the room, the house, that she would forever associate with the crippling helplessness, the desperation and the loneliness, despite lying next to a person that she thought she knew. A person for some reason she thought she could trust. Maybe it was just the drunken state that she had been in that had made her trust him. It was one of the many things that was racing through her mind at this particular moment as she ran desperately to a destination she was still unsure of. She just couldn't control her thoughts right now. It was all too much, she didn't even know what was happening anymore.

It was just too much.

It had been a few hours since she had run from her house, slamming the front door in the process, far too desperate to escape to think about the possibility of waking the sleeping man upstairs. She didn't know where she was, she couldn't remember even seeing this place before. The dark did not help this fact, but she was sure that in even in broad daylight she would be lost, not just physically but emotionally too. She stopped running, feeling her lungs begging her to just stop running, her mind fighting with her lungs and ordering her to keep going. Stop. It hurts. Can't breathe. No! Escape. Run. Get as far away from him as possible.

She had managed to catch her breath, resolving to comply with her lungs' desperate plea for rest, accepting the fact that no matter how far she ran her brain would not be quiet. It felt like she would never be able to think clearly again. Her thoughts that once pooled at the base of her skull like a calm and serene pond twisted, morphed into a storm ravaged ocean, slowly rising and filling her head, all while swirling and crashing against her skull in an attempt to push and fight their way to the forefront of her mind.

The thoughts in the form of thunderous, thrashing waves beating around her skull made her head ache and her vision blur. She reached her hands up to rub at her temples, trying to soothe her head, although she knew this would not help. Maybe she was just looking for something to do, no matter how simple, just to be doing something. Anything. She had been standing completely still for hours it seemed, although in reality it had only been minutes. Everything was moving so slowly. She pulled her hands away from her temples, fighting her physical exhaustion in order to observe her surroundings. Maybe there was a distraction. Or help. Someone who would notice how terrified and helpless she felt and offer her a hand. Some guidance, because she sure as hell was in no state of mind to provide that for herself.

No! She didn't need the meaningless and empty words of strangers, or even of those she knew. Would they help? Of course not, she knew that. At this moment, she craved comfort, but what would that comfort give her? What would confessing the events of this night provide her by means of resolution? Nothing. It would do more harm than good. Strangers would look at her with eyes that were masked with kindness, all the while hiding what they really thought. What a sad, pathetic woman, standing all alone, crying and gasping for air in the middle of a dock yard.

Apparently, she realised, she had run to the docks. The water surrounding her was a clear indicator of that. She still had no idea of how to get back to familiar territory though. She was still lost. Completely and utterly lost. Anyone who came upon her in a misguided attempt to 'help' her would see that. She knew what people would think, and she didn't like it at all. Having strangers judge her for the mess she had very rapidly become in the last few hours was one thing, but if anyone she knew, anyone she cared about were to find out. She would be mortified. This wasn't something she could talk about. It wasn't something she could ask someone for help with. She had to hide this or die trying.

She was already the party girl. Already the promiscuous junior doctor who repeatedly drank to excess, already failing once at her attempt to remain sober. Who would believe her if she told them what had really happened last night? Her past actions didn't really stand in her favour. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be blamed. It was a crushing realisation.

However, even as these thoughts were passing through her head she knew she was being ridiculous. It wasn't her fault. Just because she liked to drink and have a bit of fun, doesn't mean she deserved this. Does it? Maybe, she just doesn't know anymore. Nothing was making any sense. The only recognisable feeling she could comprehend right now was the iciness in her fingers, on her arms as the cold early morning winds penetrated her thin shirt like knives. She did not have time to dress for outside before she fled her house, she just needed to get out, but the biting cold that was gradually getting more and more uncomfortable made her regret not grabbing some kind of jacket on her way out.

Her house. It was HER house, and he had successfully, albeit unknowingly, forced her out into the cold morning wearing nothing but a thin shirt and trousers to protect her. She took the fact that her mind was able to focus on the immense cold she felt as an indication that her thoughts were slowing down, becoming slightly less chaotic, and used this lull in her racing thoughts to figure out her next move. She could go home, but what if he was still there? She couldn't risk it, even the thought brought an acidic taste to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. But she was so cold. She needed to go somewhere. The ED? No. Far too suspicious. People would notice, say things, gossip about her behind her back. That wasn't something she was willing to risk.

She stood there in the middle of the docks, freezing cold, tears once more falling down her cheeks and feeling as helpless as ever while an internal battle raged inside of her head. She had no idea what to do. She had no where to go, no one to call. She was on her own.

In that moment, Alicia Munroe was experiencing a kind of loneliness that she had never felt before in her life. She was absolutely and indisputably, in her mind, alone.