The only people who are allowed to roleplay in this thread are
D0LL & Strawberry Kitkat

No one else is allowed to post. Thank you.

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[imgleft]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v305/kyh66/guy-rp/aiden.png[/imgleft]Zane stared listlessly at the mismatched tile floors of his cell. The tiles appeared relatively clean yet it was stained various shades of off-white by the cell’s earlier tenants. He did not want to think about what types of substances caused the stains though.

“Now you understand that we’re doing this for your own safety, right?” asked a man in white as he tightened the straps on the straitjacket snug around Zane’s arms and torso.

“Jesus. Will you quit conversing with the crazies? It’s irritating,” snarled another man, wearing an outfit that matched the first.

The first man in white ignored him. “Look, we don’t want to do this, but if we didn’t you’d continue scratching the skin right off your arm.” Zane simply stared at him. Nothing he would say would take him out of this straitjacket, nor this asylum masquerading as a respectable hospital, so why should he bother?

“Goddamn. He doesn’t understand you so just quit it!” the second man shouted.

“I understand,” Zane said. His words were so soft it was almost inaudible.

The second man jumped and then hit Zane across the face. The impact was so fierce that Zane was knocked to the floor and he simply laid there, unmoving.

“Stop that! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” The first one yelled.

“This damn basket-case is makin’ fun of me,” growled the second.

“God, you’re gonna get us both in trouble, man.”

“Am not. Who’s gonna care if I knock around a few crazies? It’s not like they have any family left, not after they abandoned them here. The only reason they’re here, all nice and cozy, is because the state and my hard-earned tax dollars allow them to,” ranted the second. The first man got to his knees and stretched.

"That's cruel," he said, but still chuckled softly. It was blatantly obvious that the first man was the nicer of the two, but that was only because he was the one who worked at the hospital the shortest amount of time. Slowly, the sickening energy of this cruel hospital would beat down on him and he'll become like every other employee: mean and uncaring. For all Zane knew the second man in white could have been exactly like the first when he had first started working here. Though, Zane had not been here long enough to know if this could be true or not.

The two men in white left, but not before the second spat at Zane's feet. The door shut firmly and Zane could distinctly hear the locks being set in place. He continued to lay on the floor, motionless. He did this because it would be difficult to lift himself up into a sitting position without the use of his arms and he was such a fickle person that once he eventually got into an upright position he would probably want to lay back down again.

Zane sighed. He was tired, but he did not close his eyes... no, rather, he could not allow himself to close his eyes. If he did he would sleep and in these past couple weeks--or had it been months?--slumber was the worse possible thing for him. He was not so much terrified of what he would see in his dreams while he slept, although the images did scare him crazy, but he was more frightened by the possibility that he would not be able to wake up.

He gasped, shivering as icy cold tentacles slithered up his arm. "Greetings," was all the shadow-man had to say to cause ripples of fear to pulse through Zane's entire being. Months--or had it been weeks?--earlier he had not feared the shadow-man, but he had learned quickly. "We are waiting," he whispered in Zane's ear. "Our patience grows thin."

He choked back the first scream--his throat burning, barely able to breathe--but then submitted to the second.

[IMGRIGHT]http://i1012.photobucket.com/albums/af247/pokeaddict17xakatsukifan17/a_c3aa6cb9.jpg[/IMGRIGHT]
"Here we are."

Holly looked up at the hospital, a feeling of unexpected dread and nervous anticipation settling quietly in her stomach. "Thanks, mom," she said, flashing her mom a quick smile before unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Are you sure you're ready for this," her mother asked, stopping Holly as she opened the door. Holly paused, one foot suspended in the air.

"Yeah mom, I'll be alright," she said, letting her foot hit the curb. "I'll call you when I'm ready." Holly's mother nodded, looking worried as she watched her daughter climb out of the tiny car and close the door carefully.

Holly looked up at the hospital one last time, before exhaling and walking up to the front doors. They slid open silently, cold air blasting into her face. She squinted slightly, then entered the building, walking up to the front desk as the door closed behind her again.

"Hello, how may I help you," a pretty, ditzy-looking nurse asked, as Holly approached. The young girl set her hands on the high counter, unable to help the nervous way she tapped her fingers on the meticulously clean white surface.

"I'm here to see my friend," she said, her voice coming out small and unsure. She cleared her throat, frowning; hospitals always made her so damn uncomfortable. "Ah, I'm here to see Zane," she said. As she gave the nurse his information, a look of surprise crossed her features like a shadow.

"He was just moved into a... new room," the nurse said. Holly leaned back, surprised. She felt bad for not coming in for a few days- life had been such a pain in the ass lately, though, and her homework had absolutely swamped her. "Are you sure you want to see him?"

"If it's alright," Holly said, in a tone that said yes, stupid, I'm sure I want to see him. The nurse motioned for Holly to follow her, stepping out from around the desk.

They went down a hall that lead to the west wing- all the halls looked the same here. She wondered if the rooms looked the same, too, and if so what had been the point in moving him. That was when the heard the screams- and that voice was unmistakably Zane's.

"Wait," the nurse called, as Holly took off down the hall. She skidded to a stop in front of the room that the scream had come from, cupping her hands around her eyes to peer in through the window.

"Open this door right now," Holly demanded, as the flustered nurse caught up.

"Miss, we can't do that, protocol-"

"To hell with your protocol! That's my best friend in there, you're going to let me in there right now!" The nurse hurriedly opened the door with panicked, shaky hands, barely able to jump out of the way in time before Holly busted in. "Zane," she cried, rushing over to her friend. They had him in a straight jacket, and he was lying on the floor. "Zane, it's Holly, you're alright," she said, unable to keep the fear out of her voice as she grabbed him by the shoulders. She ignored the shouts of the doctors and medical staff that floated down the hall as they rushed to investigate- all she cared about was that her best friend was screaming like someone was going to kill him.

Zane was scared; so much so it was difficult for him to see straight. He did not know who—or what—had entered through the door to his prison, but it was coming right at him. He could not move, his body would not allow him to. He sucked in a deep, ragged breath ready to let out another scream—all he could do now was scream—when someone, or something, grabbed his shoulders. What was that? His vision, clouded by fear, would only allow him to see shadowy figures surrounding him. Were the shadow people trying to drag him into their world? No! That was impossible. You could only enter that world in pairs. Had the shadow-man lie to him? His heart leaped and sputtered. He was ready to fight off his weird paralysis and fight these strange shadowy creatures away when he heard a wonderfully familiar voice.

“Holly” he mouthed because he could not quite speak. His vision cleared slightly and he could see her face. It may have been an illusion placed by the shadow-man—he normally did such cruel things—but Zane did not care. Holly was here. She had not abandoned him like his supposed friends and his white trash parents. He did not need anything else. He had Holly. He did not need anyone besides…

“Oh? We have a guest,” the shadow-man whispered. Color drained entirely from Zane’s face.

“No!” Zane screamed at him, suddenly able to find his voice. “You stay away from her!” The shadow-man simply chuckled. Angered, Zane accidentally bit his tongue. He felt metallic tasting liquid, blood, ooze past his teeth and onto the corner of his lips.

No one could see the shadow-man besides him. This had been apparent to him ever since the shadow-man’s first visitation a few months back. (He assumed it was months, although he was not exactly sure how long he had been a patient in this hospital. It couldn’t have been more than a year, right?) It had been a mistake to talk to his goddamn parents about the shadow-man in the first place. The doctors diagnosed him with schizophrenia. At first Zane had believed them, but large welts and scratches began to appear across his body. The doctors believed that they were self-inflicted, but they weren’t. No one believed him. No, wait, that was wrong. One person believed him. That was Holly.

“Step back!” someone yelled, perhaps a doctor. “He’s dangerous.” Holly was then pushed from view and the shadowy figures surrounded Zane. No I’m not, Zane wanted to say. He knew Holly was worried. He wanted to comfort her, but then he felt the needle slid into his skin at the base of his neck. And then he was tired. And then he slept.

"No! You stay away from her!"

Holly flinched as he shouted, her heart racing. That must have meant he was there, or whichever one of the shadow figures had come to torture Zane today. "Zane, they can't get me," she sid, trying to soothe him. "Zane!" She wanted to cry, to scream for them to leave Zane alone- but she couldn't even see them. Sometimes, Holly would wonder if Zane really was just imagining things, but when she was alone at night, waiting to fall asleep, she knew he wasn't. Something, someone, was hurting Zane, and she wished that she could just make them go away so that she could have her friend back.

"Step back, he's dangrous!" someone yelled, a doctor who had gotten to the room first. Holly opened her mouth to protest, but someone grabbed her arm and yanked at her to get up. She fought against the attendant, but he was a lot bigger then her, and succeeded in dragging her back.

"No, please don't," she sobbed, when she saw the needle. "Zane!"

"It's alright, miss, we simply sedated him so that he can't do any harm," one of the doctors said, turning to face her.

"Zane would never hurt anyone," she said, trying to break free from the attendant holding her as they picked Zane up off the floor. "Nothing is wrong with him!"

"Miss, he's extremely schizophrenic," another doctor, a younger man, said. The first doctor shook his head; he knew Holly, had been the doctor working with Zane ever since he'd first been admitted.

"I know what you think he is," she half-snarled, her vision blurred with hot tears.

"Miss Phaedra, please come with me," the older doctor said kindly. "We can talk somewhere else. Your friend will be out for a while." Holly reluctantly followed him out into the hallway, sparing a last look back at Zane. "I know this is hard," the doctor said, as she took a seat in a chair stationed outside of the room. "I understand you two were very close. We're only trying to help Zane; he's very troubled right now."

"He's not crazy," Holly said instantly, a frown on her face. The doctor sighed, then got to his feet.

"We aren't saying he is," he said. "But he's got some problems right now that we're going to try and help him to. Would you like to call your mother?"

"I'm staying here," she said decisively. "I came here to talk to Zane." The doctor hesitated, then sighed again and nodded. He knew how stubborn Holly was; most of the regular staff were very familiar with the petite, dark-haired girl. She settled into the chair, leaning her head back against the wall as she prepared herself for a long wait.

That was where she could be found some time later, snoozing in the chair.

Zane was awake. He was slightly groggy, but at the same time strangely lucid. He was able to think much more clearly than he could in a long time. Fear was still there—it was always there—but now it seemed less threatening and more of an underlying emotion. He easily lifted himself from where he was laying, a neatly made hospital bed, noticing that his straitjacket had disappeared and he was no longer confined. Zane glanced around and, noting that there was nothing out of the ordinary, left the room.

The honey-slow ticking of the clock was eerily audible over the dead silence of the hall. It hung on the faded wall over the nurse’s station, which was empty. Zane furrowed his brow. Where was everyone? Usually, there would always be at least one or maybe two nurses on duty, but there was no one in sight. He wanted to call out, asking where everyone was, but he kept his lips sealed tight. He felt that right now it was only okay for the clock to make noise, and nothing else, especially not him.

Zane decided to take the opportunity to traverse the halls and after what felt to be hours he noticed that the hospital was a lot bigger than he had remembered. The halls were long and twisting like a labyrinth, albeit he found, after a while, that no matter which path he took it would always lead him back to the nurse’s station with the ticking clock. He also realized, after glancing several times at the clock, he could not decipher would time it was. The clock looked normal enough, its numbers and dashes were each in its regular place, but he could not focus on any of the hands. They were not exactly blurred, he just could not see them even though he knew they were there.

The next thing he noted was that none of the rooms or decorations were in the right order. It was like someone took the entire hospital and jumbled each section up, like one of those puzzles where you slid the pieces around a small, closed off board in which you were only allowed one open space.

Zane stared into himself, like looking into a bowl from far away, and found his emotions. He found that he despised the place he was in, but he also craved it. He also found other complex emotions he could not decipher. There were some that regarded his doctors, a math teacher he had, his parents, an actress he once saw on T.V., his friends from the drama club and Holly. Most were about his parents and Holly. He stared listlessly into his soul, reading it as if it were a book written by someone else. He found it too confusing so he closed the book.

He looked up and noticed a dim light creeping in, invading the shadowy room. The light came from under the door of an examination room. The door’s window was covered by various strips of cardboard. He could not see inside. Had that light been there before? He did not remember. Strangely, Zane found his fear was so miniscule that he could simply push it away. The act was so oddly new to him that Zane took a few moments to relish in it. What a weird feeling to not be scared, Zane recited in his hazy mind.

He found himself in front of the door to the examination room. He was not sure if he had moved there himself or if something had moved him, but Zane was not concerned about that. His focus drew to the dim light that leaked through the door. What a lovely light it was. Zane looked into himself once again and decided he much enjoyed the light. The metal door handle was cool to the touch and he found it turned easily in his hand. He pushed open the door and found himself in a small office. Was this what the examination room had looked like?

He glanced towards the end of the room and saw a woman. The woman was leaning back on a chair, her legs were propped up onto a desk, and, despite her back being turned, Zane could tell she was wearing a white nurse’s outfit, albeit one that looked to be from the 1950s. The woman did not seem to notice Zane. Her head, facing the wall, bobbed mildly and her fingers snapped along to music that was not playing.

“Hello?” He broke the silence. Taboo.

The woman froze and remained that way for a few moments. Slowly, she pulled her legs off the desk and turned to face Zane. “Hello?” she mimicked, except her voice was honey-slow and oddly pitched. That is when he noticed three thing. The first thing was that she was entirely black-and-white, as if she had been pulled straight out of an I Love Lucy episode. The second was her face was horribly distorted. It looked like what interference on a radio would look like if it were visible. He could also make out a clock, wide and warped, tattooed across her face. And then the third thing he noticed: it was Holly.

XxxxxxX

His eyes flung open and he stared at the off-white paneled ceiling. He flailed his arms, eventually finding his way to his feet. He looked around him. This time he was in a real examination room. He had been lying unconscious on a check-up bed before he woke up. Something shifted near the corner of his vision and that is when he remembered the shadow-man. He panicked, twisting his body to look at the spot, but saw no one. He was alone in the room.

He was drenched in sweat and panting heavily so he held his breath. That way he could concentrate and listen. He could hear his heart, quick-beating and spastic, and beyond that he could hear the low murmur of hospital noises. He could not hear a clock and he was glad for it.

He stared at the long scratches up and down his arm, something that he had gotten used to. They were flushed and scabbing over making his arms intolerably itchy. As he scratched around the cuts—he was cautious not to reopen any wounds—he glanced at the tiny window on the door and jumped when he saw a pair of eyes peering back to him. Zane was about to retreat into the corner when he realized it was only one of the doctors. Soon the eyes vanished, the doctor turned away.

“Excuse me, Miss Holly? He seems to be awake now and stable as well,” the doctor said, his deep voice muffled by the door. “Would you like us to put him in a straitjacket before you go in and see him?”

Holly jumped as a voice snapped her out of a dream- she couldn't even remember the dream, anymore. "Hu-what," she managed, rubbing at her eyes until the world came back into focus. "No!" she said instantly, jumping to her feet. She swayed slightly, dizzy from getting up too fast. "No, please," she repeated, shaking her head as the world settled again. She pushed past the doctor and entered the room, letting the door shut quietly behind her.

The room itself was plain and strictly medical, almost boring. She finally lowered her eyes to see Zane, and realized that she'd been looking at anything but him since she entered the room. She stared at him for a moment, her lips pursed- then she crossed the room and flung her arms around his neck, her mouth pressed against her fist.

She'd been planning to say something, but she couldn't even begin to remember the words that she'd carefully mapped out. Emotion clogged her throat for a second- and Holly wasn't an extremely emotional person. But Zane was her best friend, and she'd felt so out of sync without him.

She eventually let go, backing up a step and offering him a smile. She took a deep breath, pursing her lips for a second. It was a nervous habit of hers- she didn't know what she had to be nervous about. "Hey hotshot," she said, clasping her hands together. She bowed her head slightly, as if apologizing for jumping on him like that. Zane was the only person she ever let herself let go around- she figured with how long they'd been friends, there was nothing about herself to hide anymore. "How ya doing?"

As she lowered her eyes, she caught sight of his arm- of the long, healing scratches all across his flesh. She winced and reached out, gently taking his hand and pulling his arm up. "Did they do this to you," she asked, her voice soft as she glanced up at him. Zane had shown her what the shadow people had done to him before- at first, she'd been worried he'd done it to himself. But there was something in his eyes, something that told her that Zane didn't do those terrible things to himself. And people who were restrained against their hospital beds couldn't scratch themselves.

Zane gaped as Holly entered. What was she doing here? Zane recalled one of the shadowy figures that had swarmed around him before he slept to have Holly’s face. Had that really been her or had that been another cruel joke played by the shadow-man? Could this be a joke now? Is she really here or…?

Zane’s thoughts ceased as Holly pulled him into an embrace. Her warmth felt so nice against his skin that he was lost in it for a moment. It had been so long since Zane had felt warm. Eventually, she released him and sadness leaked into his heart. He wanted to be warm again and forever. He stared at her solemnly. He listened to her voice, soft and melodic, yet he could not hear what she was saying.

Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat as parts of his dream flashed into his mind. The face had been Holly’s, but at the same time it had not been. The dream Holly had been scary and distorted while real Holly was always warm and safe. Hastily, he cupped her face in his hands and stared at it. Meticulously, he reviewed her every facial detail. His eyes scrutinized over her lips, brow, eyes, cheeks… Everything. He would have gone over every individual pore if he had the time… time… tiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmeeee…

ticktockticktockticktockticktockticktock

Zane blinked and released Holly’s face. What had he been thinking about? Oh well, it was gone now. Soon, he noticed Holly was staring at his arms. He chuckled—it had been such a long time since he had laughed that it felt weird on his tongue and lips—but his laugh did not reach his eyes.

“Don’t worry Holly,” he told her. “I’ll be fine.” His words sounded foreign and unconvincing even to him, but he said them anyway. He could not allow Holly to worry. What if she worried herself to death? Or, wait, was that just a phrase? Could someone actually die from worrying too much? Zane furrowed his brow. That was weird. He was positive that he had known at one point. His head felt muddled for some reason. He stopped thinking about it.

At that moment, something else crossed his mind. The realization scared him. “Holly?” he asked, his voice small. “When’s my birthday? I don’t…” He clasped his hands tightly to his chest. They would not stop shaking.

The shadow-man swam past him and chuckled. “You’re losing it, man,” he hissed into Zane’s ear. Zane froze; his breath strangely shallow. Images—black and white—flashed repeatedly in his head. He was dizzy. His mind felt like a merry-go-round. Uuupp aaaand dooooown…. Roooound and roooound…. androundandroundandroundandaroundandroun—

“Stop it!” he screamed, clutching his head, “It hurts! Leave me alone!” The shadow-man chuckled once more then disappeared. Zane felt his thoughts slow. The pain was gone, but fear still remained. It took every ounce of Zane’s being to stop himself from crying. He wouldn't cry. No, he couldn't cry. Not in front of Holly. What if she began to hate him and call him a cry-baby? What if she left him here all alone? He couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t survive without Holly.

“H-help, please… I need…” he began, grasping at her shirt and shoulders. “H-help, ha-ha’elp me.” He stuttered and choked on his words, on his anxiety. He knew he needed Holly. He knew that perfectly well. But he needed to set her free. He needed her to be far, far away from him and out of danger. He knew that Holly most likely hated him for being crazy. She would be happier… safer without him. “No, l-l-leave… have to… y-you must… you need to get away!” There was a ringing in his ear that would not go away.

…ringringringringIsweartoGodifsomeonedoesn’tgettha tgoddamntelephoneringringringring…

Holly sighed, squeezing his hand before letting go of it. Her cheeks felt oddly flushed where his skin had touched hers. "Your birthday," she asked, tilting her head to the side for a moment as the question sunk in. He had forgotten his birthday? "You know the answer to that, silly" she said, trying to smile for him. "My birthday is in May, remember? Your's was before mine." This happened often- he forgot where he was, sometimes, or other little things. She was used to it by now, after five months. She was pretty sure Zane was the only person she was willing to be so patient for.

Before she could say anything else, he froze- and that strange look crossed his eyes. The one that told her everything wasn't okay. "Zane, what's wrong?"

The scream made her jump, a startled gasp escaping her lips. She cupped her hands around his face as he pleaded for help. "Zane," she managed, hot, frustrated tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "I want to help you, I really do..." It frustrated her so much that she couldn't see what he was seeing. She hated that he was suffering. But what hurt her the most was the fact that she couldn't do a thing to help him.

His next words stung, causing her to wince slightly as something in her chest tightened. She cupped her hands tighter around his face, a determined look crossing her face as she struggled to not cry. She wasn't going to loose her best friend, dammit.

"I'm not going anywhere, Zane," she hissed fiercely. She brought his face down to the crook of her neck, hugging him tight. "I want to help you," she choked out. "I'm not leaving without you."

For as long as Holly could remember, it had been her and Zane against the world. She'd moved into town with her mother after her parents had divorced, angry and defiant. She was always starting fights, and always winning them. No one had really liked her. One day, she'd picked a fight that was too big for her- and had ended up a mess, beaten up behind the gym. She thought she'd just lay there forever, but then Zane had come along. He'd taken care of her, always had ever since that day, and she'd done the same for him. She couldn't leave him, not now.

"Please, Zane," she whispered, her voice soft and tired-sounding. "Please tell me how to help you. I'll do anything." She heard the door open behind her, but didn't bother to turn around and look, refused to let go; if she let go of Zane, she wasn't sure she'd be able to handle it.

Zane shook his head over and over. His eyes turned glossy. “You can’t help me,” he told her, “You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.” The ringing in his head was subsiding. There was something that he had remembered in the midst of it, but it had come and gone so quickly that Zane had not been able to keep a hold on it. It had not been a memory exactly. It had been too small for that. He imagined a thread unraveling from a large blanket. The image of it was clear in his mind. Sometimes the thread would unravel slowly, comfortably, and other times it would unravel impossibly fast. The latter would make Zane’s head hurt. He didn’t like it when his head hurt.

“What’s going on in here?” asked a nurse, entering the room, “Are you okay, Zane?” The nurse shuffled towards them and tore the two apart. She gave Zane a thorough once-over and tsked when she saw the cuts on his arm. She said nothing about it though. “You two better not be getting all cozy in my hospital, you hear?” She stared at Holly accusingly, as if it were impossible for Zane to be the one who instigated.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, Nurse Jacobs,” Zane said, dully. He had to repeat his apology thrice. He did not understand why, but it was required.

“Oh, don’t you worry about it, baby,” Nurse Jacobs cooed. Zane knew this nurse well. She was a bit overbearing and demanding at times, but he still liked her. Just recently having lost a son of her own—apparently he had been close to the same age as him—she took an instant liking to Zane. She constantly clucked and cooed over every little thing Zane did and she did not mind that Zane was crazy. She would not stare at him condescendingly like all the other nurses and doctors. Zane liked that about her. With her he would not have to worry about the shadow-man like he did when he was with Holly. He did not have to protect Nurse Jacobs like he did Holly.

“Anyway, hun, you have a phone call,” she told Zane, “Normally this would not be allowed, but I’ll make an exception this time.” He gave her a quizzical look. Usually no one besides Holly would try to call him, but Holly was here. He hadn’t the slightest idea who it could be.

Zane followed Nurse Jacobs into the room adjacent. He was surprised to find himself tightly clutching Holly’s hand. He didn't remember reaching for her hand, but he didn't try to release it either. He could not help but concentrate on the feel of her palm. It was soft and warm; the exact opposite of his, which was cold and clammy. Suddenly, his hands began to sweat. Why? He had only been thinking about Holly’s hand, nothing scary, so why did he feel oddly nervous?

Zane found the phone, off the hook, on a desk. He picked it up with his free hand and held it to his ear. “Hello?” he asked the receiver.

“Hello?” a feminine voice mocked. Zane’s heart froze in his chest. The woman chuckled. “God, you sound more stupid than usual. It’s Ashley.” He released his held breath.

“Ashley? Ashley who?” he asked, confused. Had he known an Ashley? Maybe it was a person from his school, but why would they be calling? All of his school friends, all the people he had known, had pretended he had never existed after he was suddenly diagnosed with a mental illness and sent to the hospital.

“You’re joking, right?” the girl over the phone asked with obvious exasperation.

“I, um,…”

“Ugh, I knew you were a dumb-shit, but I didn’t think you were this bad. Did you really forget your own sister, or is this one of your idiotic practical jokes?” She sounded angry. “Are you crazy and on drugs? They pumping you full of medical cocaine, or whatever they give people at those funny farms?”

Zane blinked. “Of course I remember you, sis. I was just joking,” he lied. He did not remember having a sister. Was she older or younger than him? He wondered if he should ask Holly later, or maybe he shouldn’t. Sometimes his questions made Holly worry.

“Ugh, I knew it. You really aren’t funny,” Ashley sighed.

“So why are you calling? You’ve never tried to call me before,” he sounded slightly accusing even though he had not meant to be.

“So what?” Ashley answered, defensively, “What are you a woman? You need me to send you over a box of tampons, sweetheart?” She scoffed. “Or perhaps you want me to be more like that skanky tomboy friend of yours? Feeding you breast milk and kissing your boo-boos?” Zane remained silent, unconsciously tightening his grip around Holly’s hand. “No? Then stop bitchin’.”

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, “I didn’t mean it that way.” He was staring at his feet; his thin pale blue hospital slippers.

“Whatever,” Ashley snorted. “I’m calling about Mom.”

“What happened?”

“It’s horrible. Apparently, she’s found God or something.”

“Oh, um, that sucks?”

“I know, right? She’s way preachier than usual and now I have to go to church like every Sunday,” she whined. “I’m telling you, dude. You have it lucky. Sometimes I wish I was right in that hospital with you then she’d back the hell off.”

Zane gritted his teeth. You bitch! he wanted to scream. She knew nothing about how he felt. Torture. Every day of his life was torture. He would have killed himself by now if he had not worried that the shadow-man was able to follow him even after death.

The entire room began to spin. Distinct colors and shapes began merging with one another, unifying into one great mass. Zane teetered and tottered. His head filled with butterflies. They were so beautiful and colorful. His hand tingled slightly. He wanted to smash them.

A single memory then popped into his mind. It was clear and pristine, vivid and wonderful, black and white, beautiful and deadly. He also found the memory wild and hilarious. The suddenly, he couldn’t help himself. Soft laughter bubbled from his throat.

“What? What’s so funny?” his sister asked.

He giggled again. “Remember when we were kids? Remember when mom used to beat us? Remember? Remember?” He jumped up and down excitedly, like a child.

His sister sounded strangled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Zane felt ecstatic. “And that one day during bath time—”

“No wait! Stop it, stop it!” his sister protested, her voice rising louder and louder with each syllable, sounding thick with horror. Why? It was fun-y, fun, fun!

“—she made us play that game—”

“I told you to shut the hell up!”

“Ashy, Ashy, do you remember the game, Ashy?” Her old childhood nickname rolled easily off his tongue as if he had never forgotten her in the first place.

“I… I… pl-please b-b-be qu-quiet!” she pleaded through her sobs.

“Ashy lost the game. She lost it, she lost it,” Zane sang.

“You ass!” she sobbed, her voice ragged.

“But I won the game. I won. I won, I won, I won,” he taunted, “And now Momma loves me! Look, look! Look Momma, I can hold my breath for much long—” Nurse Jacobs yanked the phone cord out of the socket. The action was so sudden that Zane stood still, shocked, for what felt to be a long time. Then he marched over to a trashcan, releasing Holly’s hand, with wooden movement, and threw up.

Holly blinked as she was pulled away fro Zane, startled. She looked up to find a nurse holding the two apart, a stern look on her face.

"Whoa, nothing's happenin' here, promise," Holly said, holding her hands up as she was released. In a way, Holly kind of liked this nurse. She reminded her of herself. She listened as the nurse talked to him, frowning slightly when she said that someone had called for him. Holly couldn't even begin to think of who it could be- Zane's parents had pretty much disowned him, and all their friends had dropped him (and her, as well) once they found out that Zane had gone "crazy."

She was dragged out of her musings as Zane and the nurse began to walk, Zane holding onto her hand firmly. She didn't try to free herself; it kind of reminded her of being a kid, of being led down a hallway in a museum or something.

Or a cemetary, a voice whispered in her head. She frowned; that was right, it did kind of remind her of a cemetary. The big problem was that it was so quiet. It felt like something was lurking in the walls, and she couldn't help but shiver.

Okay, Holly, get a grip, she snapped at herself. You want to end up like Zane? The words were harsh in her mind, but true. You need to stay sane, so that you can help Zane get out of here. You can't do that if you both get locked up. Maybe she was just tired, but she was starting to sound a little crazy, too.

She leaned against the desk casually as Zane picked up the phone, her hand still clutched in his. She gave the nurse- Nurse Jacobs- a helpless look, shrugging her shoulders. It wasn't like she minded- she was close enough to Zane to be okay with him holding her hand- but the nurse was giving her funny looks.

"How long have you two been friends," the nurse asked, surprising Holly by trying to strike up a conversation. Holly bit her lip, counting in her head.

"Six years, now," she said, surprised. She hadn't realized it had been that long, but Holly had moved here in the fifth grade, and she was a junior now. "He's been my best friend for forever," she added, unsure of why the information was relevant. This woman felt safe for some reason- she was glad there was someone here like that to take care of Zane.

"Ashley? Ashley who?" she heard Zane say, and turned her head to frown at the phone. God, Holly couldn't stand Zane's sister, Ashley. She'd hated Holly for as long as she'd known them, and Holly couldn't even fathom why. She could clearly recall a time, not too long after Zane had been put in the hospital. Holly had gone to his house to get something for him, a book or something that might make him happy- and had found Ashley digging through his stuff, his things tossed around haphazardly. Suffice to say, it hadn't ended well for Ashley. Not to mention, she was a serious bitch to Zane. Maybe it was a good thing he couldn't remember her.

"I don't know why she bothered calling," Holly said with a frown, turning to look at Nurse Jacobs again. "Ashley is his sister, but she doesn't want anything to do with him. She was the first person to drop him, after he got sick."

"You're the only person I ever see coming in here to see that poor boy," the woman observed. Holly nodded, pursing her lips.

"Zane's always been there for me," she said. "He's my best friend, and I'm not going to leave him when he needs me the most." She pursed her lips again, tighter, feeling a sudden, unexpected rush of tears. She swallowed them back, setting her jaw in determination. "I just wish I could do more for him," she finally said. "I wish I could bring back my Zane."

She was saved from having to look at the Nurse when Zane squeezed her hand, almost tight enough to hurt her. She wondered what was going on, her curious look dissolving into concern when he began to giggle. It sounded weird, off-pitch and wrong.

"Zane," she said, her voice sharper then she meant when he began talking again. Talking about how their mother had beat them, about some game they had played (he'd never told her the details, and she had never asked, but she could only imagine what kind of sick, twisted "games" their mother had made them play). "Zane, stop it!" The nurse acted fast; as Zane taunted his sister, she reached over and yanked the cord out of the wall. They all stood there, stunned- and then Zane turned and went to the trashcan, throwing up. Holly could only stare, frozen, as the nurse hurried to help Zane.

xXXXx

"Come here, baby," Rebecca Jacobs said, rushing to help Zane. She pulled a handkerchief out from her pocket and wiped his mouth. It was times like this she really missed her son, her baby boy Scotty. But now you've got this baby to take care of, she reminded herself, helping Zane straighten up. And you've got to help him.

"Come with us," she said to the girl over her shoulders. Holly- she wasn't as familiar with her as she was with Zane, but she'd seen her here almost as much as she'd seen any of the doctors. She was an okay girl, but naturally Rebecca was protective of her new baby. She steered Zane down the hall to a room, motioning for Holly to wait outside while she took care of Zane.

"Now what's wrong, baby," Rebecca asked, steering him over to a chair and sitting him down in it. "What did you say to your sister?" She reached for a flashlight and shined the light in his eyes, then turned it off and set it down. "Do you want some of your medicine? Or do you need any water?" She couldn't help but fuss over him; he reminded her so much of her Scotty, and taking care of him helped ease the ache in her heart from having just lost him.

Zane leaned back in his chair and groaned. His head felt muddled and far away. He was not himself, only half of it. A part of him was the current Zane, but the other part was a Zane from a different time. Both parts were the same, him, but at the same time very different. He groaned again. “She shouldn’t be mad… She’s just a sore loser…” he told no one in particular with slurred words. “She hates it when I win ‘cause Momma… Momma…”

“What is it, hun?” Nurse Jacobs asked gently, “What did your mother do?”

He felt like two adjoining puzzle pieces. One piece became warped by rain and age. The pieces could still fit together, but only barely. It hurt because one piece was constantly changing, constantly warping while the other piece remained static and unchanging. He didn’t understand why one of the pieces changed. It would be so simple if they both grew warped and twisted. Why did the other half not want to change? Why couldn’t they be harmonious with one another?

Zane shifted his head and looked at Nurse Jacobs with glazed over eyes. “Nothing. Momma, she’s always nice and pretty…” he stated, dully. He felt like a record that skipped and skipped and skipped. He drifted, stating words that were not his: “And remember, if anyone asks tell them that your momma feeds you a nice three meals a day and makes sure to kiss you goodnight every night before you go to bed. Don’t you dare say anything unnecessary, you hear? Else you’ll have me to answer to, boy.” He blinked. Who was that who was talking? The words had sounded familiar yet… and then they flew right out of his head. What had he been thinking about again?

He stared at Holly and Nurse Jacobs quizzically. “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Nurse Jacobs stared at him, scrutinizing, for a few long seconds then sighed. “It’s nothing, baby. You just had one of your episodes.”

“Oh,” he replied, simply. Had he? He really hated that. Not so much the “episodes” he had, that have been occurring more and more frequently, but the forgetting; albeit it was probably a good thing he forgot.

Nurse Jacobs interpreted his worried eyes as something else. “Don’t worry. You’re fine now so I won’t have to call the doctors.”

“Thanks.”

She sighed again. “I still can’t believe those fools put you in a straitjacket. I’ll be giving that head doctor an earful the next time I see him.” She shook her head and left, for some reason caring off the room’s small plastic trashcan with her.

Zane watched as she left. He felt kind of bad for the head doctor. Nurse Jacobs could be mean when she wanted to. He then turned back to Holly. “Holly, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sorry.” He reached out a hand, tucking a strand of her black hair behind her ear. As soon as he finished he pulled back his hand, embarrassed. Why had he done that?

He stared at the digital clock that hung on the wall (oh yeah, they had replaced all the regular clocks with digital ones a few months ago) and saw that it was half past five. Shit. “Y-you should go,” Zane said hurriedly. “It’s almost time for my therapy session and then I have to eat. I also have tons of other things to do.” He lied. The truth was it was almost time for dusk, the period when the shadows were at their longest; when the shadow-man and his minions were the most powerful. He did not know what type of torture he would be in for for today, but he knew he did not want Holly to be here for it. The shadows were the ones making him crazy—he knew this well—and he did not want her to see him when they would make him completely mad.

Holly waited patiently as Nurse Jacobs took care of Zane, watching the clock carefully. The red, digital numbers blinked again and again, staring back at her. She looked up, startled, when Zane touched her, instincitvely lowering her eyes. "Ah, it's okay," she managed, then cleared her throat. "It's okay, Zane, I don't blame you." She gave him a smile and reached up, squeezing his hand gently.

She frowned when she said that she had to go, then nodded and pushed herself to her feet. "Yeah," she said a little awkwardly. "Mom is probably worried and have to finish my homework." She brushed at her jeans almost nervously, unsure of what to say. "I'll come visit tomorrow, kay?" This was how Holly spent most of her weekends- in the hospital, keeping Zane company. Not like she minded, though.

"Take care, okay," she said, backing up to the door. She hesitated, watching him carefully. "Zane? You know I'd do anything for you, right," she asked, her voice small. There was a moment of silence, and then she smiled. "I'll see you, Zane." She slipped out of the room, letting the door shut behind her before heading down the hall.

"You going home," Nurse Jacobs asked, coming towards her down the hall. Holly nodded, pausing to talk to the woman. "You take care, alright?"

"You got it," she said with a nod. "I'll come back tomorrow." Nurse Jacobs smiled kindly and patted Holly's arm.

"You're such a good girl," she said, then continued down the hall. Holly went into the lobby and took a seat, pulling out her cell phone to call her mother.