In a raging temper he kicks the door open peercing layers of different colour paints that had been hidden for many years, there he finds Anna lying on a hard cold stone floor wrapped in a white sheet which is woven tightly around her delicate body.  Her long black hair is scatty and flows lose around her pale narrow dropped cheek bones with some remaining strands camoflaging the black stone floor, she’s covered in dust and grit that had accumulated on her body over time.

He quickly rolls his sleeves up and hoists her body into both arms, eratically dashing towards the door that was left ajar and pushes it agressively with his right elbow.  He begins to run. In a crying boisterous voice he screams out for help.  He stumbles and nearly falls as his steel cap boots lodge deep into the wet muddy woodlands leaving behind huge foot prints.  

Weak, distorted, red-eyed and flittered from booze he senses that’s it’s all too late, reluctant to acceptance he carries on walking, swaying from side to side, bent over and continously crying out for help.  His voice echoes throughout the bewildered masses of open space creating a never ending tune of sadness.  He stop’s and listens only to hear his own voice, feeling scared he looks around anxiously and suddenly there isn’t a sound to be heard.

As the misty dew falls softly onto the long uneven grass blades, he begins to slip and slide, feeling exhausted, sweating and drownding with fear he stops and lays Anna’s body in a bed of ferns.  He quickly removes his waistcoat, folds it carefully and uses it as a prop beneath her head.  He ramsacks his pockets in search of a tissue, he finds it and wipes Anna’s face and cries out whole heartedly.  Guilt and anger rivets through his body sending cold shivers up his spine.  He knows he has done wrong …………………. 

He gently covers Anna’s face with the tissue and slowly drifts away, his head hanging low and tears rolling down his face, he turns around and looks back.  He raises his hands to the heavens above and in an angry saddened voice he repeateldly cries out, “Why did I leave her alone?” His voice gets louder and louder as he waits for the over-riding echoes to subside, endevored by his imagination he hears a soft lingering voice sing out “It’s your fault,”…… “It’s your fault,”

It’s all too late!