Holly looked around her, then out across the water. The river was choppy, the water foaming as it settled against the wall below the promenade and dispersed backwards. The wind was stronger here, lifting her hair from her shoulders and rippling through her jacket. Dull conversation from other people standing nearby, words she couldn’t quite decipher.

A world away from the bedroom that had almost become a prison to her. Locked away, so she couldn’t be hurt out in the real world. And it had only succeeded in bringing the hurt even closer.

What had been an escape had instead cornered and trapped her.

She gazed out across the Mersey, the view staring back at her blandly.

No note. You can’t tell anyone where you’ve gone. We’ll know.

Holly traced a pattern on the concrete she was standing upon with her right foot, stealing a glance at those closest by. The knife up her sleeve was weighing heavy against her arm. She imagined the blade slicing into her flesh, drawing a line of blood from underneath the skin. The release and relief it would give her.

She turned and looked at the people on the waterfront. The tourists, the day-trippers, the unemployed, the workers on their lunch break. The sounds drifted towards her but didn’t permeate the shell. Lost in a void she had created for herself. A barrier, so they couldn’t get in.

Just the one thing and it’s over.

Holly felt as if everyone could hear the sound of her heart beating, crashing against her chest. The sound of her breaths shortening, the sound of her hands shaking, tapping against the top of her legs. She was a shuddering ball, a cacophony of noise and anger and fear.

Do it.

Do it.

Please.

She took the knife out and waited for the shouts to begin. The shock, the exhalations and alarm. Instead, there was silence. As if she was invisible. Holly looked around, almost daring someone to make eye contact with her, to notice what she was doing.

But there was nothing.

Simply holding a knife in public wasn’t enough, it seemed. She would have to go through with it.

Complete the level.

End the Game.

Holly began screaming.

‘JOANNA CARTER.’

Over and over.

Then, as instructed, she ran across the busy A road that ran down the waterfront. She felt she could hear footsteps following her, but she didn’t risk a look over her shoulder. Instead, she kept running and screaming over and over. Holding the knife up, against her neck, swishing it in the air around her. The faces around her became a blur. Tears dampened her cheeks, her throat stung.

‘I killed Joanna Carter. I killed her. Joanna Carter. I’m going to do it again and again!’