Annie didn't know that name, the voice or trust it's intentions, so cursed herself for making noise. This was it, this was where she was going to die. She had been so careful, the angels weren't responding to her prayers so now this one mistake had cost her her life. She pressed herself harder and harder against the wall, trying to fold into it, wishing she was away and mouthing silent words out of fear and desperation.
Eggsy, then, would catch sight of the small gap, big enough for a child easily and an adult with a bit of wriggling. Either of the pair would be able to see Annie easily through it and it was a sorry sight compared to the one of her before.
The girl was covered in dirt and filth, some of it dusty and dry, some of it mud caked into her ragged and torn clothing, some of it slick wet like grease and oil. Some of it blood, dried and not from visible wounds on her body, so from someone or something else. Her hair was a mess, compared to her younger self the platinum blonde now a darker and murky brown from weeks of filth. Her frame was emaciated, albeit not entirely starved, rather malnutrition. She looked as though a strong breeze would shatter her like porcelain.
All this, curled into a small ball rocking gently out of immediate reach, terrified and alone.