The Asylum On Chestnut Street

Chapter-12

Time froze as I stood opposite the ethereal figure of a girl who looked to be a few years senior. Black hair, black eyes, and a pale hospital robe with small light blue dots decorating it. She looked to be angry but made no move to harm me. I stopped screaming.
"Wendy?" I heard my name echoing from somewhere in distant it felt, and it was as if I were sinking in a cave- though I knew it was Amy, and I knew she was in the same room as me. "Are you alright? What's wrong?" I felt a gentle hand clamp down on my shoulder, and no longer was I holding my breath.
I sucked in some air, unsteadily. "You... you don't see it, do you?" I whispered back, not breaking eye-contact with who-or should I say what-was standing in front of me.
"See what?" she asked, and from my peripheral view, she looked back and forth between myself and the doorway, which was apparently unoccupied to her. "Wendy, what do you see?"
"A girl," I responded, aware of my ambiguity.
I finally looked at amy, who for only a brief second appeared lost. Immediately after, her grassy green eyes became huge in trepidation when it hit her. Ghost.
I think the both of us knew something supernatural would take place in the asylum, since what had been occuring to me was nothing if not irrational. Regardless, I'd kept that thought in the back of my head, hoping on the off-chance that there wasn't some abnormal explanation. And I only guessed amy had been holding those same thoughts, too. It didn't really seem like she had a plan, venturing further into the building. It was almost as if she was waiting for something like this to happen- something to prove to amy, the last person to believe in anything supernatural-related, that this was real. That this was occuring.
It took her a long pause to finally speak, and when she did, it came out in a cautious whisper. "What does it look like?" she asked me.
I swallowed, looking back to the girl who remained only a few feet away. 
She took a sudden step forward, and I immediately took one back, my heart rate skyrocketing. I noticed that her feet were bare and clean despite the grungy flooring, as was the rest of her immaculate. She was indeed flawless. Flawless and angry.
I remembered the question. "Like a patient," I told Amy. There was a lot more I wanted to say about her appearance- especially the way her eyes didn't fixate on just mine, but seemingly everything around myself as if she could focus on the world in its entirety. Or the way her movements were gracious and eerily directed, sending chills down my spine. But I remained quiet because for some reason I felt that if I kept talking she was more likely to do something.
When Amy removed her hand, I realized it had still been on my shoulder. "Is it saying anything?" she nervously asked.
I shook my head.
"Maybe you should talk to it... or, erm, her."
"I-uh..." My voice trailed off because I wanted to tell Amy no, but I knew if we had that argument she would only win, as per usual. So I decided to be courageous. I took a step forward and met the mysterious girl's eyes. They were still slit, and her eyebrows angled towards her nose in rage, but she didn't even seem to be angry with me. It was like the kind of anger you get when someone's beathing too loud or tapping their pencil when you're trying to take a test. It fuels your fire, sure, but you wouldn't get up to do anything about it. You'd simply feel that urge, that irritation. It was written on her face.
"H-hello," I tried as a greeting. "My name is Wendy..." I thought about introducing Amy, but if Amy couldn't see the ghost, then I guessed they weren't meant to speak to each other. "What's your name?" Meanwhile I shot Amy a quick look, in which she exchanged, that said: if anything goes down, we need to plot a quick escape... somehow avoiding the ghost in the process. Which made me wonder: could we walk through it?
The ghost arched her eyebrows up in confusion, and all traces of her anger had vanished from her face. Her frown became a soft line, her nose unwrinkled, and her eyes still a black and haunting feature, but no longer furious. All that was left was innocence and wonder. It was as if he were asking: who, me? without saying it. Like she wasn't expecting me to acknowledge her.
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," I added, feeling my heartbeat pounding intensely.
she nodded faintly, understanding.
There was a beat where no one said anything, and we only exchanged looks that were glazed with perplexity. "Are you able to talk?" I inquired.
The ghost shook her head.
"Is that a no?" Amy whispered at my left.
"Yeah," I replied. "Strange," I said under my breath. I shook my head. What was I thinking? It was all so strange.
Before I could think up something to say, the girl pressed the palms of her hands to her ears. Her obsidian eyes became wide and fearful."What's going on?" I urgently asked.
Her jaw dropped as if she were screaming, but I heard nothing.
"Hello!?" I exclaimed, feeling a pound beginning to drum inside my skull. "What's happening to you?"
"What's going on?" Amy asked.
"What can I do?" I shrieked, ignoring Amy. I didn't know what action to take, whether or not to run her aid. I mean, what could I do? She was already dead- a ghost. It looked like she was in pain. How was she even, in pain?
"Wen," Amy nudged me, "do you hear that?"
I turned to face her. "You hear the screaming?"
"What? Screaming?" she said, confused. "No, I hear footsteps..."
Before I could process what she'd said, a wave of laughter hit me, and I felt the familiar nausea take over my body again- the hotness, the ice cold that came after. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the ground opposite the ghost who was also in a similar state, freaking out on the floor. Was she hearing the same thing as me?
heee heee heee
"Wendy!" Amy shouted, rushing to my side. She crouched down next to me.
"I hear it," I cried. "It's the laugh again." The world around me grew quiet, and I balled my hands into fists, trying to put the crescendo cackle out of my brain.
Amy opened her mouth to say something, but her eyes darted away like something more critical caught her attention. She stood up and looked to the doorway. She shouted something. It looked like a question. She was visibly shaking.
I saw movement coming from the ghost; and turned my attention toward her instead. In a hurried panic, she was pressing her index finger to the ground, tracing some kind of shape onto the dust-coated floor. O r letters. No, they were definitely letters. She was trying to tell me something.
M, I read. Then E.
The demonic laughter contiued, and it took very ounce of willpower I had to stay conscious and fight it. It wasn't the worst it had haunted my head and tortured my body. It felt more distant than my previous episodes but nonetheless it inflicted agonizing throbbing in my head, and fought to possess my body. "It hurts so much." I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling tears roll down my skin.
Across from m, the ghost was finished writing, though I couldn't read whatever it was because my vision distorting and black dots were spotting it. But what I did see was her pained face, and her eyes shut tight, and then her body turning static. Abruptly, she was gone. She disappeared as quick as she came.
I decided to push what had just happened to the back of y brain, and concentrate on the madness that was living inside my head. You're stronger than it, I told myself. You can defeat it. Don't let it conquer you. I inhaled the crispy autumn air that flowed through the windows, and repeated this mantra in my head until, to my surprise, the laughter started to fade. My senses were coming back to me, and I had begun to feel like myself again. It was working.
"Who's there?" I heard Amy ask.
I sat up, eyes darting to the doorway. So that's why she over looked my episode I thought. Someone was coming up the stairs? I was already beginning to panic again.
"It's just me," a familiar voice reassured, the person approached the doorway, greeting the two of us with a look of puzzlement.
I rolled my eyes when I saw her, releasing a heavy sigh of relief, and letting myself fall flat on my back against the concrete floor. I closed my eyes, finally at peace. It was only Brenda.
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What did you all think of this chapter? What was the ghost writing on the ground?