[ The OA stops when she feels the touch at her shoulder - she flinches back, as light as it is - a ghost of a touch. Even as she sleepwalks, she doesn't like to be touched, as if some part of her deep down could be aware. She's somewhat aware but not all at once. She pulls in a breath but she remains as she is - her eyes half-open and unfocused.

Safe. She hasn't felt safe for a long time. She doesn't know what safe is anymore. ]

No one is safe. I'm not safe. I'm alone again. I lost Homer and the others, I lost the boys and BBA. [ Her fingers curls around the green of the blueberry bushes, she crushes the leaves into her palms, shaking her head. ] I've lost them all - and he will find me.