SLAM! CRUNCH! BANG! Her shit hole of an apartment looked even worse than usual. Even the roaches look liked they were fleeing amidst the flurry of activity in it. The short 5'4" stature woman was bustling from room to room, emptying out drawers and cramming as much as she could in to a pair of suitcases. Who knew that she owned so much stuff. When a couple of cops tell you to pack your most important possessions, you don't realize just how many things you consider important. RINGRING! RINGRING! She dashed for the phone, snatching it up off it's cradle and putting it to her ear. "Goldi Locke. Hello?" Silence. Click! They hung up on her. Goldi didn't stop to think how odd it was or if it was a wrong number. She was in a rush and had more important things to worry about. Like her LIFE. Any minute now a cop was going to show up to escort her to somewhere safer. If she knew she'd suddenly have her life turned upside down, she might never have called the cops! Yet every day since it happened, all she could see was the face of that man, contorted and screaming. With three men standing over him and beating him to death... Goldi zipped up her bag.