If These Walls Could Talk (American Horror Story Asylum FanFic)

Prologue

Author's Note 

Welcome to a brand new fanfic for the second season of AHS! For my last fanfic I noticed that my constant shifting of P.O.V's were confusing to many so this time around I will be doing only one character's P.O.V. However, if anyone is ever curious to hear another character's side of the story just comment and I will try my best to write it. Like my last fanfic, this one will be a mix of character's created by Ryan Murphy and some created by yours truly. 

Well, time to get the show on the road! Happy reading, my lovelies! 

<3 Mari

“This will get me recognized. I know it will.”

I had my notes spread out all around me on my bed, along with various newspaper clippings. Taking another long drag on my cigarette I narrowed my eyes at the picture of a loaf of bread above an article describing how the bakery at Briarcliff Manor is therapeutic for the patients committed there. I climbed off the bed, tapping my cigarette twice on the side of the ashtray on the nightstand before walking over to the bathroom where my girlfriend was taking a shower.

“There’s something fishy going on at that asylum! I just know it!” I yelled to be heard over the sound of the running water.

“You shouldn’t worry so much, Freya. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” I wiped the foggy mirror and leaned forward to get a closer look at my face. Wrinkles. Pfft. I’m still young.

“Towel, please.”

Sighing, I turned my back to the mirror and handed Annabelle a towel from the rack.

“I just hate that bastard. Always giving me articles about frivolous things.”

She lightly kissed my cheek and smiled. “I’m sure someone somewhere cares passionately about the odd migration of the geese this year.”

“Oh, shut up.”

I walked away, lightheartedly laughing along with Annabelle. Then I tidied up my scattered notes and tucked them into my folder before getting ready to go to sleep.

“Tomorrow’s a new day and you’ll see that the asylum is nothing more than a rehabilitation center with a bakery business to help the patients.” She said.

I got down under the covers and Annabelle slid in beside me, linking her fingers through mine.

“I love you.”

I answered her but my mind was somewhere else, racing with the thoughts of what I was going to find when I went to the asylum tomorrow morning.

***

My yellow dress skirt and jacket were laid out on my bed and I stood over them, tapping my foot and taking long drags on my cigarette.

“Do you think it’s too dressy?”

Annabelle walked over to me, already dressed and putting on her earrings. “I think you will look beautiful in whatever you choose to wear.”

“Hmmm.”

“I’ve got to go to the school. Its poetry reading today and I have to get the classroom ready for the children. Good luck on your article and I love you.”

I turned and kissed her passionately, leaving her pink cheeked and breathless.

“Wow. You should get picky over what you wear more often.”