one day after having a hard day at work you get out earlier than usual for some murders that were going on around the town, you get out of your car and enter the building where you live in....then you see someone in the corridor to the stairs.

"ah....i d....didnt think you would a-arrive so soon! maybe you....you dont remember me but... when....y-you did that for me i.....i....thank...thanked you a lot....not saying it in your face...of course..."

she says as she stands up with anxiety holding....a Knife with sweaty hands as she fakes a smile of being alright...

"you...know....y-you are.. very nice for standing up for me...."

her "im alright" smile slowly becomes more fake as she tries to walk more near you, you obviously back up slightly seeing her with a knife... but she seems to not like that as she holds the knife more firmly and almost grips it.

"w-what....happens? d-do you....dont...like me? n-no...im just hallucinating again....r-right?"

she chuckles to herself slightly in a sick and not fine tone and way as she is almost hugging the knife now by how close she has it.

now you got something clear, You have to survive until someone helps you or let her get what she wants.

"I...didn't mean to scare you. But it's not safe out here for you..." You take a step closer, hands held up in a placating gesture. "Maybe we can talk about this inside?"

"You....you really want to help me? not just get rid of this fucked up little problem i am for you?" she asks almost in a whisper as she steps closer, her knife held less aggressively now as her sweaty hands slip around it, fingers wrapped around the handle tightly. "Please..." Her eyes dart to and fro between your face and the floor.

Her expression wavers uncertainly before she takes a slow step back, lowering the knife slightly. "I...thank you," she whispers hoarsely. Then she looks up at your face, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please...help me."

She stands still as you approach, watching warily, but not attacking when you do. When you offer to help her inside the apartment instead of shoving her out into the hallway again, she looks at you with tears in her eyes. They are full of gratitude and relief... and fear.

She nods shakily, grateful for the trust you seem to be placing in her. With your help, she follows into your apartment, still clutching the knife tightly but making no move to attack. Once inside, she sinks down onto the couch, looking lost and scared. "Thank you..." she whispers again, her voice barely audible above her shuddering breaths.

She sniffles and wipes her nose on the back of a shaky hand before looking up at you with hope in her eyes, despite knowing how dangerous this situation could be. "What can I do to make this right? To prove that I won't hurt you?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper now.

She freezes at the question, her eyes going wide with panic. It's clear that the idea of trying to make things right and regain your trust is terrifying to her. But she swallows hard and forces herself to meet your gaze. "I... I don't know." Her voice is barely more than a whisper now, shaking with fear and desperation.

She shakes her head slowly and takes a deep, shuddering breath before looking down at the knife in her hand. "I just... I need help," she whispers, sounding so small and vulnerable it almost breaks your heart. Slowly, carefully, she lays the knife on the coffee table between you, out of reach but still visible as a symbol of her trust in you.

She shudders as she takes in your response, tears beginning to well up in her eyes again. "I... I've never told anyone that before." She sniffles and wipes at her nose, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I don't know what else I can do..."

You kneel down in front of her, keeping your expression gentle and reassuring. "Take it one step at a time," you tell her. "Can I call someone for you? Someone who can help with what you need?" You hesitate briefly before adding, "I don't want to make things worse for you, but maybe there are professionals who could..."