Phantom

Chapter 2

Fiona woke up to bright lights and loud voices that bounced around her skull like needles, sending stabbing pains shooting from her brain down to her toes. She opened her eyes, seeing needles and white hospital sheets and figures of pure light moving too and fro in shadow. She had never seen anything so bright or horrifying.

"Hey, she woke up! Quick, the tranquilizer--"

Her world fell into darkness once again.

Fiona had been living in this Building for almost her entire life. She didn't know where she was or why she was there or who she was living with. All she knew was that she needed to leave this, this place of torture before Phantom ended up killing her. Yes, Phantom. Phantom was the cause of all of her problems, with her shoulder length, straight auburn hair and her startling green eyes that gazed upon Fiona with a type of fierceness she had never seen before. She was the reason that they called her "insane", that they had stuck her in this dungeon in the first place. She was out to get Fiona, she just knew it. And yet, no one would stop her...

Fiona turns a corner, bumping into one of the other members of the asylum. Her name was Trixie, that's all that Fiona remembers. And that she had a problem with impersonating imaginary people. Muttering a fast apology, Fiona continues gliding down the hall, her white asylum gown swirling around her in a type of trance-inducing dance. She felt it calm her--the familiar feeling of the thin cotton material brushing against her leg like the fleeting touch of a butterfly.

"Fiona! Fiona! Did you take your meds today?" Fiona turns around, dread pooling in her stomach at the squeaky, high voice of Eva, her nurse. Fiona doesn't say anything as she watches Eva come bounding down the hallway, her bright white and blue nurse's outfit bobbing up and down sending shivers of anger down Fiona's spine. Fiona hated Eva with her whole heart. Her stupid black framed glasses and laughing brown eyes, complete with her messy, boy like brown hair splayed all over her head, and that smile. That absolutely irritating, vexing smile that made her look so much like Phantom Fiona wanted to take her head and smash it into the nearest wall.

Fiona nods and turns back around, her milk white, slender fingers curled into fists at her sides. Why can't anyone at this place learn to leave her alone? They all pretend they care about her when, in reality, all they are looking for is the money. Those trivial matters in life like fame, success, the next best thing to get at the mall--while slowly, day by day, they are leaving Fiona in the prison of her mind. She knows that she's insane, but she feels normal. She doesn't understand it--how can they lie to her face, with those plastic smiles and furtive, pitying looks, that Phantom isn't real? That her screams, her laughs, her whispers in her ears at night are just her plain old imagination? Because Fiona knows Phantom is real.

After all, she did try to kill her.