Inga

Inga's story

Inga loved nighttime in the city. Everything felt more alive then. Standing on the fire escape, she stared stoically across the darkened skyline. Watching the translucent ghosts swirl through the city, she wondered if anyone else could see them.

She knew she should go to sleep: in only three hours she needed to wake up for another day of work and besides, she was exhausted. But if she fell asleep, the dreams would find her again.

You’re safe now, she reminded herself.

She could still hear their voices in the wind. Forget what happened, Inga urged herself, as if that would help. The usual ghosts floated near her, whispering their advice, but she held them at bay.

It had been nearly twelve years since her father had left. Two months later he was found dead in a desert, struck by lightning although it hadn’t rained for a decade there.

After his death, the agents had come to take her. They were sure she knew something and didn’t believe her claims that she knew nothing. She had been only seven.

Inga sighed. It was going to be a long night. She tiredly pushed her wild hair out of her face and sat down, her back to the side of the old brick building. Lighting up a cigarette, she wondered how long until she’d have to sleep. As long as she stayed awake, the dreams could find her.

At sunrise, she was still slumped against the wall, ghosts curled around her defensively. Another night survived. Inga knew she had a long day ahead of her, just as hard as all the others. Life here wasn’t easy, but it was miles better than going back. She flinched involuntarily at the memories. She was never going to go back there. Not in a million years. Anything was better than that.

Standing up and stretching, she welcomed the coming warmth of the sun. Though tired, she embraced the promise of the future she would have here, far away from the past.

Gazing into the distance, she laughed quietly, throwing her head back and her arms out, “They’ll never find me,” Inga declared to the sun, promising both herself and her ghosts. “Never.”

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