And then it was over.

Just like that, Ting thought. It was a strange mixture of confusion, anger and...relief.

And now I’m free...I can think about other things. I should think about other things.

Staring out the glowing square, Ting breathed in and felt a resounding thump within her, reminding her she was alive. The hum of the turbines served to dull the pain she felt with each breath; the vibrations pushed away the creeping coldness that seeped across her shoulders and arms, threatening to unleash the moisture in the corner of her eyes.

Fuck you’re weak, Ting chastised herself. She felt anger now, and she channeled her energy into refining it into pure rage, like a wildfire roaring up within her.

Yes...that’s better, you weakling.

She wasn’t sure what exactly she was angry at, but it felt better, at least for now. She felt the heat rising from the embers of her rage. Yes, you pathetic loser, that’s it. She smiled inwards to herself. Now if she could just fall asleep…

“Ma’am, would you like a glass of water?”

Ting sighed and smiled wanly at the hostess. “Sure, thank you.”

She was gone, escaping, discarding it all and leaving it all behind. Why did these feelings linger? It was over, it was done. She had done what she needed to do, closed the case and ended the book. So why the fuck do I still see him when I close my eyes?

It was the end of an era, of a chapter in her story. Studies over, group projects over, international student status over, relationship over. Check.

So why did she still feel like shit? She had done it. All of it. It had taken courage, a shit-tonne of it, Ting told herself. And she had succeeded...right?

There was no way things could have worked out, and no way they could ever bump into each other again. At least not unintentionally. There was no point in dragging it out, she had convinced herself. She had heard too many terrible stories. She was doing them both a favour, a superbly good deed. Yes, she was downright saintly for doing what she did.

And yet she didn’t feel any better about it.

She knew deep down that she was going to be miserable for a while. It was only normal, it was only fair. She was only human.

Ah, cold water, just what she needed. Her throat was beginning to feel rather dry. She turned back to the glowing square she had been fixated on before, like a TV screen showing the world pass by in slow motion.

The world I’m leaving behind, Ting thought sadly. Perhaps my one true chance at happiness.

She felt something cold well up inside her, she knew it was coming. Swiftly she breathed in shakily and pinched her eyes shut, holding the leakage in, holding back the tide, holding in the pain.

But it was no use, the floodgates had been torn asunder and suddenly there were droplets the size of marbles exploding on her fitted jeans, streaming all over her face and plonking on the carpet with a thousand stentorian thuds.

Embarrassed she hastily swiped at the rolling marbles with both hands, playing a game of catch before they shook the entire craft. But it was no use, her hands couldn’t keep up with her tear ducts.

Why won’t you stooooop!? She screamed at herself inside.

Suddenly images began flashing through her mind, a flickering movie to the tune of Kitaro, as if she was on the verge of expiration. She saw her campus, the grassy field she used to stroll across, the hungry birds hovering overhead, her friends giggling, the car park, the piss-stained tavern, the cool breeze across her face, and...him.

--

She must have cried herself to sleep, because the next thing she knew the glow was gone and everything was quiet and her cheeks had a crusty layer of rice paper glued to them. She stirred slowly and felt a dull ache in her neck. Fortunately there was nobody seated next to her. In fact, the entire flight had been rather empty, which was nice for a change.

As if on cue, the loudspeaker came on announcing the imminent arrival in multiple languages.

Nice timing, dude. Ting mused and gave a quick stretch, delighted that she’d effectively fast travelled to her destination. I’m nearly home.

She rubbed her puffy eyes and surreptitiously wiped down her cheeks, feeling tiny grainy crystal fall away like her dreams.

--

Ting had never liked airport bathrooms.

They had that distinct public restroom smell but ten times stronger than normal; the lights were garish, the stalls were always full (of either people or toilet water, sometimes both), the doors had funny messages (or at least some poor designer’s attempt at humour) stuck behind them, and the toilet paper dispensers were these gargantuan beasts that required you to perform a rectal exam to extract the hidden roll. Plus there was always some person standing at the doorway as if to welcome you, but they usually just stared.

Oh, and the taps always popped up way too early.

Ting hammered down on the tap head for the third time. The resulting blast mostly ended up washing the surrounding sink area instead of her hands, but Ting was too tired to care.

She stared blearily at the dishevelled little girl behind the crystal clear glass, intense eyes now reduced to blurred blots of brown, like puddles of dirty, angry sewage. Inside she felt...nothing - numb would be an appropriate word, except words weren’t really coming to her right now.

Hands in, hands out, rinse and repeat. Hand dryer - hands in, hands out, rinse and repeat.

--

Getting out was thankfully painlessly swift, and she was lugging her morbidly obese monster suitcase on wheels out to the cab before the sun was up.

Finally, after all that, she was home. Almost there, almost at my home sweet home...

Yes, there it was.

She had been away for too long - the place looked somewhat different, but she could still recognise the neat little townhouse she had grown up in. The plants were definitely a lot less neat than they used to be, but then again it’s not as if her brother would lift a finger to trim or care for them; it would be a miracle if they were even still alive after this time, it was hard to tell in the dark.

Ting wondered if her brother would be up waiting for her. It didn’t matter, the second the cab came to a halt she was out grabbing her luggage from the boot in a heartbeat. She nearly forgot to pay the driver, then remembered it was already done through the app. Ah, technology, she slapped herself on her imaginary forehead.

She waved to the driver and dragged her lazy, wheely companion up the steps to the front door. The door looked a little different somehow, but it was probably her imagination in the darkness. Now where were her keys?

Ting spent a good few minutes fishing her solid ball of keys and Korean knick-knacks out, then playing a slow tinkling tune in the dark before locating the key she needed.

Heck, I can throw most of these keys away now, Ting thought cheerfully. Not like I’ll be using them-wait, why is the key not going in?

Her front door key was not fitting at all. This is highly peculiar.

Puzzled, Ting pulled her phone out to provide some illumination, her keys singing like songbirds in the silent dawn. Speaking of which, why didn’t that idiot turn on the front light? What an inconsiderate slob.

The front door lock was quite a bit different from what she recalled. Not a good sign.

Ting could feel her heart thumping in her chest. Okay, calm down, Ting. You’re just tired and you should calm down and try the key again. Try it again. Go go go.

Armed with her phone light and renewed faith in the world, Ting stabbed at the keyhole with her key. Perhaps it was the wrong key. She peered down at the grapevine of keys in her hand. Nope, pretty sure it’s this one. But...let’s try the others just to be safe.

None of the other keys worked, and after what felt like forever it appeared she had gone through every key that could possibly fit in the keyhole.

It was big brain time.

Ring ring, little brother. Ting grimaced as she hit the little green phone icon.

It was ringing, at least there was that. One ring, two rings, three rings…

Ting counted the rings anxiously. That was definitely too many. Why wasn’t the brat picking up? Definitely still asleep, or the phone could be on silent. Oh great, his phone is on silent, Ting concluded.

Ok, definitely big brain time.

“Heeeey! Hey, Kai! It’s me, open up! Kaiiiiii!”

No sounds, no lights.

Again, but this time with some bass! Ting hammered on the door, with her mouth right up to the wood so she wouldn’t wake the entire neighbourhood.

“Kai, c’mon Kai! You can hear me. Wake up and open the door please. Kaiiiiii! Wakey wakey!”

Ting waited.

Silence.

“Kai, wake up goddamn it! I’m going to kill you! Why did you change the lock without telling me! Kaiiiiiiiii!”

Ting sighed and felt her composure slip away, soft sobs welling up as she focused her eyes on her phone to make another call. She was too tired for this shit, she just wanted to drop her things, take off these stinky clothes and collapse into a coma. Why was that so hard?

The phone rang. And rang.

Ring ring. Ring ring. Bleep. Call end.

I’ll bleep you, you little cunt. Ting fumed. Anger was the only thing keeping her from losing it. That and the pounding of her heart in her ears.

Okay okay, big brain time, Hui Ting. She took a deep breath, shakily at first but slowly her head cleared. It was working.

Next thing she knew, she was reaching for the top rung of the gate to the back of the building. Her place shared a wall with the house on the left, but there was an alley on the right side that ran between the neighbour on the right. She was going to hop the gate and sneak in through one of the back windows. Easy peasy. At least, that was the plan.

Now there was a minor hitch in the plan: she couldn’t reach the top of the gate, at least not without jumping up on one of the lower rungs. Except the rungs were shallow and barely gave enough purchase.

You can do this, you can do this.

Hands at the ready, one foot up on the run, the other on the ground, Ting took a few deep breaths. On three. One...two...two-and-a-half…

“Hey...hey, are you ok?” came a soft whisper to her right.

She let out an involuntary yelp, and her hands couldn’t reach her mouth quick enough to stop it. She spun in the general direction of the sound, backing away towards her front door and luggage. All she could see was darkness, a tree swaying in front of her neighbour’s place.

When her throat unstuck, she let out a whimper: “Who...who’s that? Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m over here.” There was a pause, and Ting became acutely aware of her heart hammering in her chest. “What are you trying to do?”

Ting thought frantically - tell the truth and ask for help, or make up some lie and run away? “I’m...I got locked out.”

Another pause.

“You need to borrow a phone?” came the mysterious voice. Ting figured she must have woken him, as discreet with her screaming as she was.

“Oh no, I’ve tried calling. Not picking up. Must be on silent.”

“Oh...right.”

Silence.

Great, can I go back to jumping the fence now? Ting thought dryly to herself.

“You...want to stay here until it’s daytime? I’ve...there’s a sofa you can use.”

A strange warm feeling washed over Ting, mixed with a healthy dose of fear and suspicion. She didn’t even know where this voice was coming from, let alone who the person was and if it was even remotely safe.

Was this the start of some slasher horror flick? Was she on candid camera? Did that annoying brother of hers set her up for some stupid prank show? Perhaps if she stood there long enough Kai would jump out of the bushes and come give her a hug for the camera. Yes, that would be perfect. A perfect opportunity to knee him in the groin.

Oh shit, how long have I been standing here?

“Hey, yeah sure. That would be...good. Thanks!”

I’m too tired for this shit. If he’s going to rape me and cut me up, at least let me have a good sleep beforehand.

Ting ran to grab her things and shuffled hesitantly up to the house on the right. It must be either one of those. She heard a door click and the one of the left swung open. A lanky figure hovered in the doorway for what felt like an eternity before the light next to the door came on, illuminating the steps up to the front door.

A guy’s head peered out from the ajar door, messy bleached hair a bright orange in the warm light.

“Come on in.”