She tossed and turned in her drunken stupor, she had gone on a binge again. She only had a couple a year, she would wander off for day alone and drink till she passed out.  It was the only way to drown out the demons, except it did not. They just invaded her dreams. 

     The young child looked back at the foreboding red brick building with the spire on top of it. The two shingles along the top half hanging near there represented how all the children in the orphanage felt. Broken and forgotten, but not her she was found. She turned and looked at the lady who firmly held her hand in a hurry to leave the neighborhood. The blonde-haired lady was babbling to herself about the filth of the orphanage and the child and how she was going to be expected to clean the ruffian up. She did not approve of her boss’s idea of adopting an orphan. Anna looked back at the orphanage one last time, as the lady pulled her into the back seat of the Duesenberg, memories flashing behind her young eyes. She had been there since the soldiers had found her wandering starved among the bombing debris, which seemed so long ago. The little girl crawled into the back of the car and sat next to the lady as the suited man closed the door After driving a ways Anna had curled up and fallen asleep in the lady’s lap.    

    Moaning incoherently in her sleep she rolled over tucking her hands between her head and the pillow.

     Nitesprite held her breath while staring down the sight, her finger pulled the trigger with a feather like touch as she let her breath go and lowered her rifle. She wasn’t sure what Eric did to anger Uncle, but she told him not to ask, never to ask where she came from and what she did. Or. Or ... her thoughts were swimming as she fought the tears back while she broke the rifle down to transport it. She sat there and drew her knees up to her chest. Slowly she started rocking back and forth as her words became audible on the rooftop.  “Or to ask Uncle for permission to … Oh forget it Anna, Uncle will never allow it. Every time he finds out you have feelings for someone he calls in a hit on them. Who the hell does he have handle it.? Of course. So, who really is he sending a message to you…or them?” She asked herself rhetorically. She took a few moments of silence her resolve finally settled she grab her small case and left the scene of the crime.  

     Coughing had partially woken her, as she reached for the glass of water of on the nightstand. She took a couple swallows and laid back down staring at the ceiling not really wanting to fall asleep. She looked at the alarm clock three a.m., well she thought she best go to sleep. She rolled back over and  closed her eyes hoping the nightmares would stay away.

     Tossing and turning Nitesprite tried to go back to sleep, she needed her rest, with locks to coax open tomorrow would be busy. But that damn noise, that sounded like a couple of cats mating out back. That damn noise kept her from much needed sleep and irritated the headache that was brewing inside her skull.  She sat upright and slowly pushed herself out of bed she continued her trip half-awake out of her room and down the hall. Her hand pressed against her face as if she were holding something in place while she sleepily sauntered to the bathroom.

     Opening the medicine cabinet, she grabbed the aspirin bottle, pulled two tablets from the bottle and slapped the bottle back into the cupboard. Growing more irritated at that sound as the minutes passed.  She popped the tablets into the back of her throat, leaning down she drank straight from the cool running water. Leaning back up she spotted an empty vase on the back of the toilet seat. An idea popped into her head as she grabbed the vase and placed it under the faucet she had just drank from.

     Her weapon filled she opened the backdoor that led out to the alley. What she spotted was not a couple of mating cats. Just some smelly bum snoring away on her doorstep. His odor was awful like old cat piss, but matched the sound coming from his sleeping form.  She dumped the cold water on the smelly, snoring trespasser. As he sputtered and spat water from his mouth upon waking trying to demand what was going on.

     Nitesprite simply told the bum,” You are trespassing, leave before I charge you rent, or shoot you.” Not waiting for a response, she shut and locked the backdoor.  She set the empty vase on a table as she walked to her inviting bed with hopes of sleep on her mind