It has been nearly a month since the prison break and I have never been more terrified. And I'm not even concerned with the psychotic fugitives running in the streets... I'm worried what will happen to us. I have lived in a city that is a few shades darker, its brightness deteriorating more with each passing day, and nothing is the same. This is not the city in which I hoped to make a future with Sterling. When we first moved in to this town, it was like walking down the street on a rainy day. The rain can be a beautiful thing but I noticed a few mud puddles on the sidewalk. No big deal, right? They're just puddles. You get a little wet, shake off your pant legs and move along. Leave your shoes to dry at the door when you return home and carry on your way. That's what we did for a while. Pandora is a wonderful city despite the fact it had a dangerous prison. You just kindly forget about that part, you know? No one goes around there. You won't find food trucks lining outside the prison because it's the hottest place on the planet. You just forget that it's there and you do your own thing.

But then Sterling was taken into that cold prison and I thought I'd never see him again. I can't begin to count how many times I was up at night crying like a woman who needed a few tampons thrown her way. It was depressing to live alone in a place built for two, meanwhile your husband is in the company of the most dangerous supes in the country. So when the prison break went down, I was thankful that he at least got out. But things haven't been the same.

There's this fear that things will go back to the way they were before -- with the authorities stripping the streets of escapees and I'm afraid I'll lose Sterling again. I can see in his eyes that he relives the terror almost on a daily basis and I can't stand it.