The man in the dirty yellow, almost florescent, coat strode towards her.
“I told you: get out of here.” His breath froze in the still air.
Samantha limped towards her car.
“I'll be back,” she muttered, as she sped off.
The buzzing in her head squealed, screamed; it had returned, returned with avengeance. Was she never going to escape?
Hours and a few joints later; Samantha steadied her swimming mind. Were the previous years of nightmares about to repeat themselves?