do you feel the collapse?

For a summer night, it was surprisingly chilly. A strong breeze was blowing towards a pretty lady with snowy blonde hair covered in a beige, knee-length trench coat. Her eyes were hidden from view by a large hat, her hands clenched tightly in her pockets. Her heels clicked as they stepped onto new patches of pebbled ground, unnoticed in the noisy chatter and bright lights around her, too swallowed up by their own conversations.

The thing was, this lady wasn't quite a lady at all. It was a fourteen-year-old girl under the influence of Polyjuice Potion, seeking vengeance. Her hands are not chilly from the wind, but they are concealing a small, sharp blade known to others as a dagger. Her head is facing the ground as she does not want to look at the obscene images that are playing around her, and to keep herself hidden from unwanted attention.

Her blue eyes - whose shade seem to have changed from bright blue to navy in the past four months - flicked themselves to see what was ahead of her to see if they've found her target, and they have seen no sign of him so far. She was not giving up, though; she knew from experience that her target would be here in this street on this very night and she will find him no matter the cost.

It took no longer than an hour of scouring the area that the young lady had found her victim. She took a long breath as she observed his features: curly gray hair, six foot three, clad in grey and black, his thick black eyebrows sitting above his dark eyes furrowed in fake concentration as he stared at the displays. She was used to his eyes, which once chilled her to the bone. He had tried to kill her, and his eyes remained cold and distant. And people had called her cold-blooded? They obviously have never met his kind.

"Leon!" she exclaimed, skipping merrily in her heels towards her target. She had made her first move a little earlier than expected, but it won't make much of a difference to her overall tactic. She took her hands out of her pocket and hid the dagger in her sleeve, doing this motions quickly enough before Leon could see.

He looked up, and smiled at her. As she expected, his eyes remained grey and dark. "Heidi!" he announced, opening his arms wide open as if he wanted to hug her. "Ehat a pleasant surprise!" The lady could practically smell the sarcasm in his voice. It was difficult to not make a remark about it, but she had to. If she did so, it would betray a vital part of Heidi's personality.

"Totally!" she chuckled, hugging Leon back, careful to huhg him with the part of her arm that did not conceal the dagger. They let go of each other and she flipped her hair - for her, that felt extremely awkward - giggling as if it was the best thing she could do right now. "I totally, like, miss this town," she whispered, twirling once as she laughed. Leon laughed along with her and told her she should visit Amsterdam more often. "I totally should, but I don't have the time!" she flailed in ringing tones, "being a travel writer is so not the most relazing job in the world, you know!"

Leon nodded in reply. "I know it isn't, but you gotta make the most of it, yeah?" he added, and she immediately nodded, throwing her head back in enthusiasm like she would at such comments. She hated doing this, but sometimes, she mentally chanted, one had to sacrifice a good thing to help gain a greater good.

"I wanna go to bed," she yawned, rubbing her eyes. Her inner self had to stop herself from adding, 'after a bottle of vodka' because Heidi didn't drink anything other than champagne, and she was so proud of this fact she often bragged about it. "No alochol for me!" she added, chuckling. Leon, being a gentleman, took her hand and gently asked, "Do you mind if I take you home?" She nodded in assent, exclaiming that of course he could and turned herself in the direction of the hotel.

---

It didn't take long to get to her hotel, and thankfully on both sides, no one said anything about anything.

The hotel was rather ordinary: seven concrete floors stacked up against each other in faded paint next to a busy night market. Leon raised an eyebrow at her, because Heidi had always preferred luxury over anything else. But Leon hasn't seen her for three years, so her tastes would have changed. "I know it's totally horrible, Leon," she sighed, walking into a quiet alley where the back door was instead of the front door. Had it been anyone else Leon might have suspected something but Heidi was so weird he might think it was just another of her many quirks. "Thank goodness I'm off to Rotterdam, like, tomorrow morning," she added giggling.

Sh eknew that Leon knew that something was off by the slight change of tone he said in his next words: "See you soon." He grinned and opened his arms wide again, and she gleefully ran into them and kissed both of his cheeks like the real one would and held him tightly for a few seconds. Just long enough for him to say:

"You're not Heidi."

---

In her mind, Lena stopped thinking. How did he knew she wasn't who she said she was? The plan was supposed to be foolproof! Now, all she has worked for in the past five years has gone down the drain. It would be some time before a particularly riveting, exciting yet functional plain would make its way into the blonde Uchitel's head again.

Then she remembered that this was what she wanted to happen.

---

"I don't understand. What are you talking about?" she frowned, wriggling herself free of Leon's clutches. Her words were in such a trembling, innocent voice, too innocent for even Heidi to pull off. She was shocked he actually let her do, but she couldn't be shocked for too long. She dusted her coat down with her hands and looked up. "I am who I say I am," she added, "Heidi Liesel Vorstenbach. Twenty-seven. Travel writer."

"So you say," Leon added immediately, walking towards her slowly, making no noise as he stepped closer. "I know you are not. Who are you?"

She laughed emptily and bitterly, rolling her eyes at him. For a moment she could see shock in the flecks of Leon's eyes. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she inched her way towards him slowly, letting the clicking of her heels disappear into the silence. Her mouth - or Heidi's mouth - curled into a vindictive smirk that screamed hatred and loathing, and most of all, a lust for revenge.

"I've been waiting for far too long, darlin'," she whispered, stepping forward, "six years I had to live with your image in my mind. Six years." Leon stepped back, trying to evade her. It was only now did he realize who he really had in front of him, and the shock in his eyes only made her voice deeper and her steps wider, her body closing in towards his. "I ain't lettin' anythin' pass by me like that." On the final word, she clicked her fingers, pausing her step so that the click could echo in the darkness.

Leon blinked. "What do you want from me?" he yelled, "what do you want? I have not killed anyone since that day! Can't you just get over it?" His voice then sounded as if he was begging for his life. "Come on, Lena. You were only seven. You knew too much. I'm sorry! Please - think of Charles! And Emi! And Millie! Please... just let me go." His attempts to beg for his life were futile, as she kept on walking closer and closer.

Eventually, she managed to take the dagger slowly out of her sleeve, the metal blade glinting even with the bright lights. Leon looked at it for a second and stared into her eyes. They pleaded for mercy, forgiveness. But they both know he is six years too late.

Right as he shut his eyes, she stuck the dagger in his heart, her eyes unflinching as she heard his gasps of breath and as the blood spilled out of his chest and pooled around his lifeless body on the concrete ground. She didn't smile, or laugh, or even titter like she expected to. Instead, she remained expressionless, and her only motion was a few steps back to avoid the pool of blood.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and for a second she really did. Who knew taking a life would be a such an emotional experience? She felt like apologizing to everyone: Kaitlen, Anya, Mrs. Prentiss, maybe even Charles himself. She felt like bursting into tears and wishing had died of natural causes instead of her own hands. She was so conscious about having fresh blood on her hands she decided to leave her dagger there. Thank goodness she was wearing gloves, or she would eventually be caught. she couldn't stand the thought of being in jail. Not at all.

Then she remembered he tried to kill her.

And she walked away a little girl again.