Her apartment is small and she’s standing in the middle of it in a towel. The sound, that horrible moaning, is far enough away that it’s nearby, but muffled, like it’s through a wall. The window with the fire escape. Slowly she sets down the phone as the impossibly low moan begins to build, both through the phone but also, beyond. The window. It’s outside the window. The light inside makes it impossible to see outside, where there’s only a black plane. Then there is creaking, a motion. The fire escape. Dripping, one hand holding the towel. One foot back, then another, to the kitchen. The drawing of a knife, her hand shaking. It is impossible to move in all but the slowest movements. It is impossible to think. Another sound, more creaking, a shudder of massive weight shifting. Oh help me. Someone help me. The hand holding the knife goes up to flick off the light switch. The apartment is plunged into darkness. There is a frantic series of motions, the sound of someone moving about outside, of clanging metal, but quickly fading away, and then all the sounds stops. Her eyes are adjusting. The pane of dark glass. One step, then another, her feet still slippery. Still almost impossible to see. Something is there. A human form. She shrieks. It is stilted, to the side, lying there on the fire escape, propped up, sitting, looking in. She’s gasping and screaming, clutching the towel, the knife. It is unmoving. It sits propped on the fire escape looking at her scream. She can’t find her phone in the darkness but doesn’t want to turn on the light. Why is no one coming? She screams again and again. The figure is motionless. She stops screaming. Nothing moves. There are only the mute city sounds. It’s a person looking in. No. Her eyes have adjusted now. It’s not a person. It’s a mannequin. A female mannequin, legs splayed out, resting back against the railing. It is inert. Someone left this thing here. Oh god why? There’s something wrong with its face. Carmen cannot quite make it out. She moves closer. Its blank face looks back at her. It has a blonde wig on but no clothes. There. A handle. Something has been impaled into her face. Under her eye. An ice pick. An ice pick under her eye.

Just like a lobotomy.