Demons in the Dark

At night the darkness surrounds you. It creeps up on you like a demon in the dark.
Tiffany was running towards a narrow empty street. It was roofed and a few light bubbles were giving it an eerie feeling. Her breathing was heavy and her blonde hair was sticking to her back. She turned around, swiftly inspecting her surroundings. Was he still following?
She had been partying with a couple of friends, had danced the lightness away until the room only consisted of drunk males, looking for someone new to spend the rest of the night with. She had flirted with a brown messy-haired boy. Their bodies entangling with a different kind of hunger.
She had pushed him away when it had felt uncomfortable, as in too close.
Her makeup was running out, heavy mascara forming strokes of black on her face. The need to keep on moving consumed her. As she turned around she saw a shadow getting closer. A moment of wild bewilderment stopped her movement, letting the shadow creep by.
Picking herself up, she started moving faster, rushing past broken glass on the dirty floor. On the other end the darkness awaited yet again.
Where were her friends? Tiffany had seen them seeking comfort in some guys she hadn’t known or cared about. She had been too busy with playing pretend with the messy-haired handsome guy. Little had he known she was already broken inside.
A sound erupted in her ears. A male voice, some demon hunting her down. Did he sound almost pleading or was her mind playing tricks on her again?
She was running into the darkness, her blue eyes evaluating the grounds, looking for any hiding places, some shelter that would prevent the monster from following her. Those trees might do the trick, their trunks covered by bushes.
The moment she hid herself, the beast came running, calling out to her. Then there was only silence that followed. Had he given up? Relief started washing over her.
But then again more sounds, catching up on her. The noise started building in her head, their voices driving her crazy.
A hand on her shoulder made her lose her last bit of sanity. After that her mind stopped. Her body functioning as an empty shell.
She didn’t hear the relieved voice of her psychiatrist calling “I’ve got her”. Nor did she hear the rushing of the nurses, readjusting her night dress. Or the nurse asking the doctor if she had ever left the psychiatry ward. Or the negative answer.
“She had been here for almost five years.”