I cam across the write for ten challenge whilst reading Lillie McFerrin's blog post where she interviewed Donna B McNicol who hosts Wrote for Ten.
This is what my brain produced - all unedited and who knows where it came from.
Prompt: Police Station
It was cold in the station, white walls with dirty dents and abandoned blutack and drawing pins. A shiver ran up her spine as she stepped forward into the reception area. The place was a flurry of excitement, officers walking here there and everywhere like extras in a movie, constantly passing her by. She felt invisible, no-one seemed to see her, and she shivered again. Phones were ringing, and people were shouting across the room to one another, she could here sirens as cars left the station car park, just outside the door.
She felt dizzy from all the bustling police officers in their crisp white shirts and could feel the bile rising in her throat, she swallowed and kept the remains of the evening meal down. She needed to speak, to simply open her mouth and say something, she was struck dumb. It wasn’t fear, she had nothing to be afraid of, she was a survivor at all costs but still the words were struggling to come to her.
Her muteness had spread to her ears as she heard nothing but silence, she glanced up again and was met with 20 pairs of eyes all focussed on her, it was at this moment when she had the attention that she had walked in there craving that she dropped the bloody machete.