Lights. Blue and red, shining through at her. Blurred white figures. Sirens.

Shouting, and panicking.

She moaned, and then she was being lifted, and placed on something soft, and was moving.

Someone was holding her hand softly.

She heard a faraway voice.

"It'll be okay, Brooke. You'll be okay."

The lights faded away.

~ ~ ~

She woke to silence. Opening her eyes, she was met with a warmly coloured room, shrouded in darkness. She was lying in a soft bed with baby pink sheets, and was hooked up to monitors and tubes. Across from her was a TV, and a door, then beside her was a window, covered by cream blinds, letting soft rays of light in.

With a heavy head, she slowly sat up and looked to a small table next to her bed, that held a glass of water, a white remote, and a glass table lamp. She weakly reached over and lifted the glass to her lips.

She hadn't noticed how thirsty she was until she began to drink. The water slid down her dry, aching throat like ambrosia. She emptied the whole glass then panted for breath.

Some had slipped from the glass and she could feel it dribbling down her chin.

She placed the glass back on the table and picked up a remote. There was a red button at the top which was presumably to call for help, then a panel for a TV, and then a series of up-down and left-right arrows beneath, with little icons to reveal what they're for, such as a bed, and a little window.

She pressed one of the buttons by the window, and beside her, the blinds slid open.

Behind them was a beautiful green lawn and a lush flowering garden, stretching across to a brick wall adorned with climbing ivory vines. A white butterfly was flitting across a bush of yellow bulbs near her window. The yellow reminded her of the dress she had been wearing.

She watched the butterfly float from one flower to the next, in a dream. It was a fast moving creature, moving with a purpose, gracefully flickering like the ends of a fire in an impossible wind.

She drew her gaze away from the butterfly and to the sky, a stark blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, shifting ever so slowly, drifting across, figures of beauty and nature.

She felt sick. She looked back down at the remote and shut the blinds.

She was unusually calm.

She wasn't confused, or upset. She was calm. She was unemotional. Perhaps it was because if she was to let herself feel, she would feel everything, all at once, and would break down screaming.

So she was calm.

She played with the remote. She learnt it turned the TV on, and she could access Netflix, as well as paid TV. She flicked through familiar titles and covers, but didn't settle on anything to watch. She didn't want to watch anything. Yet she continued looking. Endlessly flicking, and flicking, without purpose.

The only thing that stopped her flicking was the door beside the TV being pushed open to reveal a nurse adorned in white.

"Hello, Brooke." She said, in a soft voice, as though if she spoke too loudly, she would shatter the pale girl. "How are you feeling?"

"It's K." She said quietly, staring at the screen in front of her. She hated the name her parents had given her, yet people always seemed to insist on her referring to her by it.

She had stopped flicking, and was settled on a romantic comedy, with a picture of a drunk-looking blonde girl and a slick blonde haired man on the cover. She didn't look at the nurse. Perhaps she thought that if she looked at the nurse it would make this all the more real.

"I'm glad you're okay, sweetheart." The nurse said softly, misunderstanding what K had said. She didn't have the strength or care to correct her. The nurse's eyes drifted to the screen her patient was staring at. "Were you planning on watching a movie? I hear that's a funny one."

"No." K said, quickly, and turned the TV off. The nurse looked taken aback for a moment, then sympathetic.

"Well alright, dear. You do whatever you feel like, okay?" She said, speaking in a piteous way. "You can even go out and stroll the garden if you want, it's a lovely-"

"Who's alive?" She cut her off.

The nurse looked confused for a moment, then uncertain. "Pardon, dear?"

K shut her eyes wearily. "Please. Just tell me. Who is still alive? Luke? My parents? Just tell me who-" She broke off, a lump in her throat, but she swallowed it, and kept talking. "Tell me who survived."

The nurse was hesitant, and spoke very carefully. "I don't know everything, dear. Not exactly. But I do know that your mother is in intensive care, and your friend, a girl named Ella, is in recovery. That's all I know."

Two others. Just two other survivors.

Luke, her father, Uncle Dave and Aunt Carol, all of the rest of her family and friends, gone.

Dead.

She was still, her eyes closed, her breathing even. They were really gone.

It hadn't just been a dream. This was real.

And that thought was what shattered her calm demeanour. That was what broke her facade. The dam she had constructed to keep the emotions at bay was destroyed, and they flooded in.

She began to cry.

Softly at first, tears falling from her eyes slowly, her breathing growing harder, and harsher. But her pain grew, and as it did, so did her hysterics. She began to sob, and tears streamed down her face. Her whole body moved with each cry.

The nurse just stood there, unsure of what to do, looking concerned. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have told you that. I'm sorry, dear. Please don't be upset."

K shook her head, shaking with rage. "Get out." She whispered, trying to hold back the anger creeping into her voice.

"Pardon?" The nurse asked.

She couldn't hold it back this time, wracked by sobs, she looked the nurse in the face for the first time, and screamed.

"Get out!"

Looking confused, and partly hurt, the nurse scurried away, and the moment she was gone, K fully broke down. A string of thoughts echoed through her mind.

They're gone. I'm alone. They're gone. I'm alone. They're gone. I'm alone. They're gone. I'm alone...

No one was there for her. No one that loved her could help her. The only one still alive was in intensive care.

There was no one that could save her.

She was alone.

And alone, she broke.

~ ~ ~

Eventually, she ran out of tears. Her sobs were just soundless breaths of pain. No one came to comfort her. In the end, she just stopped crying. It was easier not to cry.

So, after a while, she just lay in bed, staring at the black screen ahead, not crying, not thinking, not doing anything but stare.

She simply existed, in a space, alone.

Then someone else came. Not the nurse this time. A man, with greying hair and worn eyes, yet a face that was folded with remnants of smiles.

He didn't greet her when he came in, just stared at her a few moments silently. She stared back.

It was almost laughable, a bizarre contest to see who would hold the others gaze the longest.

He looked away first, letting out a sigh and walking to the sitting chair beside her bed.

He held a manilla folder, which he heaved open as he sat down. He lifted his gaze once had had opened the folder, presumably to look back at K, but his eyes lingered on the pink sheets she was shrouded in.

"Pink, huh?" He said, in an almost humorous way. He wasn't insulting her, though. The laughing quality in his voice was comforting. "I wouldn't have thought that you were the kind of girl to like pink."

She looked at him curiously. "Really? What makes you think that?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Perhaps it's the hair? You seem more like the kind of girl to like those weird greyish purples and greens. Or perhaps yellow. Like..."

"Like a hipster?" She finished for him, the shadows of a grin on her face. He nodded, breaking into a warm smile.

"Right. Like a hipster."

"You have me pinned to the point. I am definitely into weird purples and greens and mustard yellow. I also enjoy listening to funky jazz-alternative infusion bands, and rejoice in cactus socks."

He was truly smiling now, a kind, fatherly smile. K was smiling too, lightly. Somehow, when she had felt completely broken, and completely alone, this man had come in and in a matter of moments, had made her smile.

"I'm Detective Edson, but I go by Eddy. I don't want you to think of me as a detective, young hipster. I want you to think of me as a friend. I know this is hard, and it is going to be rough for you, but I need you to know that whatever happens, there will always be someone you can turn to you. Alright?"

K began to cry again, just like that. This time, though, mixed with the sadness, was relief. Hope. Because somehow this man had walked into a room and known exactly what she needed to hear.

Seeing her crying, the man folded the folder back up, and shifted so he was next to her on the pink bed. He wrapped a comforting arm around her, and with his other hand, rubbed her shoulder softly.

"Let it out." He whispered soothingly. "Just let it all out."

With his soft arm there, she felt the tears ebbing away. Once she was calm again, he stood up and turned back around to sit in the chair again.

K wiped at her wet cheek. "Thank you," she said, her voice hoarse. "Truly. Thank you for that."

He smiled softly. "Anytime, Hipster."

There was a moment of comfortable silence, then Eddy lifted the folder again. K watched him open it then cleared her throat a little, trying to get rid of the hoarseness.

"I'm K. I mean, I know you probably know who I am and all that, but I prefer to go by K than Brooke. It's... like.."

"A hipster thing?" Eddy said, then grinned softly. "All good, I get it. My kid goes by a letter too, now, you know? Except they go by Dee, not K. I think it's cool. There's a certain amount of ambiguity in names that are simply letters. I like that."

K nodded softly, relieved she didn't have to explain it further. Eddy looked back down at the papers in his lap, then cleared his throat himself.

"Alright then, K. Sorry for the formalities, but I have a couple of questions to ask you. Now, these are very important questions about finding out what happened at the party, but I need you to know that if anything gets too hard, or personal, you just say the word and we can stop. Got it?" He looked up at her, his eyes filled with understanding.

"Which word?" She asked, tensely, uncomfortable.

Eddy thought about this for a moment, then gave her a soft smile. "How about mustard? If anything gets to hard for you, you say the word mustard, and I'll drop it immediately. Okay?"

She nodded. "Alright. What-" Her voice cracked, so she took a deep breath and finished her sentence. "What questions do you have?"

Eddy pulled a yellow notepad from the folder and clicked open a pen. Then, he looked up at her with sympathetic eyes, and let out a sigh.

"Alright, K. Before we start, I want you to know that I'm listening to every single word you say. I'm not taking notes to make you nervous or to critique you or anything of the sort, I'm taking them because I had to, and because the only other option would be to record our conversation. Now, I don't want to do that, because I feel that if anything happens, or you get upset, I don't want you to have to be suspect to that being brought up, and upsetting you. Okay?" He looked her in the eyes, and she nodded. "Now this also isn't an official statement. It is just you and I having a conversation, and trying to figure this out. If it comes to it, I will get you to make a statement now, but not later. Alright?"

Again, K nods. Yet, she hesitates. "Sorry, Eddy, but do you mind if I just go to the bathroom first before you start questioning me?"

He nods, smiling. K doesn't bother feeling embarrassed. She doesn't really need to go, anyway. She just needs a few moments alone before she unwraps the parcel of terror that has been sitting bay in her mind. The idea that someone caused this. The idea that someone meant for her to be alone.

"Sure, let me call for the nurse." He said, but before he could stand, K had the remote in her hand and has pressed the call for help button. A nurse is in the room in a matter of moments, a different nurse, with a quiet smile, and soft hands. She doesn't ask questions, or look at K with pity, just carefully unhooks a collection of wires and tubes from the machines, and K's skin, and helps her up and towards the door beside the TV. Before the exit of the room and out to the hospital corridor, is another side door behind the TV where there is a white tiled bathroom, that is much larger than she expected it to be. The nurse leaves her and she shuts the door softly, then turns to the mirror.

It feels as though a stranger stared back at her. Her hair was messy, and knotted, there is a collection of stitches above her right eye, that she hadn't even felt, along with pale, pale skin. She lifts the soft white hospital gown she wears to see her legs, covered in white bandages. Her chest is bandaged too, perhaps a broken rib or something. She looks like a ghost, dressed in white, and adorned in bandages and scars. With a sigh she drops her gown and goes closer to the mirror, so she can look herself in the eyes. She stares at the stitches above her eyebrow, for a few moments, before shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Once she has gotten rid of all of the air caught in her throat she opened her eyes, and stepped back out of the room. Eddy looked at her curiously. She just shrugged.

"I didn't have to go. I just..." She trailed off, and he seemed to get the picture. He just nodded.

"Alright, K."

The nurse hooked K back up to her wires and machines silently, then left without another word, and K watched her go. Then, once she was gone, she turned to Eddy. "I'm ready now." She said, her voice filled with certainty.

He nodded, and looked down at his yellow pad. "Okay, K. I need you to tell me who you can remember being at that party.

She thought for a few moments, about all of the people that had been there, and forced herself not to think about how they were all gone. She went back in her mind, forcing herself to relive that party, and sit down at the bar like she had, and look out across the crowd. She saw their faces, and expensive outfits, dancing, chatting, partying. She began to list names. Her parents, first. Then Luke, and her family, and her friends. She mustered up all of the names she could think of, until there were no more that she could even consider.

By the end, Eddy had quite a list.

Quite a list of victims, a small voice inside her head whispered, but she ignored it. She couldn't think about that. She would just break down crying if she did.

"Thank you, K. It really helps. Do you mind if I ask the next question?"

She shook her head, shutting the emotions in a box to the back of her mind. Eddy looked down at the paper and read out the next question on it. "Did you happen to see anyone at the party that you did not know?"

This cough her off guard. Had she seen anyone? She went back to the events of the party, forced herself to sit at that bar and look out across the crowd yet again, not listing the people's she sees names, but rather, searching for people she doesn't know. And yes, there are a number of strangers, she barely noticed at the time. Business colleagues of her parents, distant relatives or friends. Her parents were networkers. They tried to keep as many connections as possible.

"Yes. There were people there that I didn't know. I didn't talk to any of them, but I did see them." She said, definitely. Eddy nodded.

"If you were to see photos of these people, do you believe you'd recognise them?" He asked.

K thought back to that scene, looking upon each face in vivid detail. "Yes. I remember everything about the night."

A lump formed in her throat. Eddy must have seen her change in demeanour, because in a concerned voice he asked, "Mustard?"

She shook her head though. "No. I'm alright... Just... What's the next question?"

Eddy hesitated for a moment, then obliged. "Do you remember anyone ever saying anything negative or violent, about or directly to your parents in public or a private space."

K shook her head. "No, nothing. You don't think this was an intentional attack against my parents, do you?"

Eddy sighed. "Do you want me to be completely honest with you?" She nodded, and he looked her in the eyes, and for the first time, she could truly see the weariness displayed on his face. "The truth is that we don't know what to think. We think that your parents were in a position that their death could affect their entire company. We also think that this could all be a massive, horrible accident. It's too early to tell, K. We don't have enough info yet."

K nodded, and tears pulled to her eyes. In a quiet, soft voice, she finally whispered the safe word. Eddy nodded, collected his notes, and stood. He gave K one last small smile, and wished her goodbye.

Then, she was alone again.