This is the wrong place for this! Shira put out a hand against the corridor wall. As sweat leapt out onto her burning skin, the sound of light shuffling footsteps reached through to her spinning mind. She struggled to grip the damp wall with skin that would not be still.

"Would you mind moving out of way?" a voice growled softly. Shira struggled to focus her eyes on the bitter source. Black hair. A guitar. Kyle.

The panic in Shira's blod erupted. It overtook her lips so that she could not talk. It conquered her feet and did not allow her to walk. She moved her other hand to steady herself further, slipped from the wall, and was falling.

Something grabbed her shoulder and wrenched her back up from the dirt floor. Her head spun. Two very dark eyes moved right up against hers and filled hir vision as it faded in and out of darkness.

"What's wrong with you?" Kyle asked.

Shira could not reply. He gripped the sleeves of her tunic and lowered her slowly against the wall.

"Is it... are you sick?" Kyle asked. He ran a hand through his hair. "I... I'll go get Devon." p> Shira shook her head. It did not spin so badly, now that she sat. Kyle took a quick step away from Shira, stopped abruptly, and took a few more indecisive lunges before he stood still.

Go away, go away, go away... Shira chanted in her mind. Of all people to find me like this... leave me here and forget that you ever met me.

"Should I get Anne? Anyone?" Kyle asked. His voice was subdued. Shira shook her head violently and it began a slow tilted spinning again. She leaned against the damp wood of the wall and shut her eyes for a moment.

"No," she answered. "Don't get anyone."

"What should I do, then?" There was a strange edge in his voice.

"Please go away."

Kyle stayed where he was.

Though it was the last thing she would have wished, tears formed without her will, her breath refused to come steadily, and, very softly, Shira began to cry.