Author's Note: Here we go...

Summary: We take a look at what paranoia means to a few certain individuals.

Rating: T for teen-like angst ;)


Paranoia

Chapter One: Side Effects

By: Mazzie May

Sherry stared at her full-body mirror on her closet door. She couldn't see her reflection in it; she was lying in her bed. Which was strange, seeing as how it was only ten o'clock at night. On a Tuesday. Leon seemed to think it was a bit early, too. He stepped in her doorway and leaned against her doorframe, looking annoyed.

"Oi, girl," he said, arms crossed. "We haven't gone out and gotten dinner yet. What're you doing in here?" he tilted his head down, looking at her through his hair. Something he did while waiting for an answer.

Sherry shifted a bit, but didn't divert her eyes from the mirror. What was she doing? Thinking about Raccoon. She didn't really like to. She'd much rather be out getting Chinese with Leon than think about Raccoon right now. When Leon had informed her that, once again, they would be going out to eat, she hopped up the stairs to change.

And that's when the flashbacks happened.

She'd grabbed for a tank top – blonde woman was bit on her shoulder

Opted for a black, short sleeve, mid-drift shirt instead – had their stomachs torn out –

She pulled a long sleeved shirt over that – neck, always got them at the neck –

And then a beige turtle neck. She pulled out some ankle socks – little girl who was pulled under –

And pulled up some knee socks, too – ankles, grabbed for their feet

She reached for her converse – tore out the bone

And laced up her boots, scrunching the knee socks around the top. Protectively. She left on her faded blue jeans - can run farther in them – and looked at herself in the mirror.

She didn't like what she saw. She curled up on her bed, only after checking under it. "Leon…"

"And what the hell are you wearing?"

"Leon…"

"It's, like, June"

"Leon."

"Do you want to get heat stroke and die?"

"Leon"

"'Cause you are off to a great start, my friend"

"Leon, I checked under my bed"

Silence followed the sentence. He knew what she meant. It was something they did religiously for the first four years after Raccoon. Looking under one's bed is fine. But when one checks… well, that one is expecting to find something. In this case, a zombie or some other creature. Nowadays, it was rare for either one to do it while they're awake. After a nightmarish memory of some sort, Sherry would run into Leon's room and ask him to check her bed. Sometimes, she'll still be awake and hear Leon roll off his bed and slam onto the floor, checking his own.

Leon always checks the backseat quickly, but carefully before ever getting into a car, truck, or van. The word 'air vent' and the sight of one threaten to force her into a claustrophobic panic attack. Snails, slugs and the like make her chest burn like before in the sewers. He's drenched in guilt when reporters are around in any way. They both get sick when the see or hear trains. Yellow blankets make her cry and the colour red depresses him.

But those were things they could hide, fight. But checking around corners, under beds… that was beyond their will.

A terrible side effect of the Raccoon City Tragedy;

Paranoia.


Author's Note: And chapter one is done. I ryhemed. Anyway, what did you guys think? I know I'm better with humor, but I figured I'd give this a shot. Up next, the Redfields.

R&R please.