I stared silently at the wall, inspecting the blank white that had been there for so long. Time was not something I felt I could understand anymore. Sometimes it passed so slowly I wanted to pull my hair out and throw a tantrum and other times I would blink and realize hours had passed- Or was it days? Sometimes I inspected the ceiling, or the floor, but it didn't matter. Everything was that same white. If not for gravity I would forget which way was up.

At first that monotony was broken by people who would come in every day… Or maybe it was every week. The terrible nightmares also stopped for a time. But they wore white too, and the only color was white and sometimes I felt like everything was white. Everything was blank.

Everything was blank. I did not know boredom or happiness, sadness, no, not even depression. Like floating, floating in the ocean. An ocean that was not cold, that did not move, with no beautiful wash of turquoise and inky, navy darkness. The sky did not move and there were no clouds. It was floating in one place, suspended in each moment with no awareness of those moments passing.

Held captive. A captive with no desire to leave.

I watched the paint and pondered absently if it ever moved. Theoretically it should, but of all the time I had lain there on my back the imperfections had stayed the same. Don't misunderstand. Though the view never changed I preferred it that way.

Don't close your eyes. Monsters lurk there, like the depths underneath your bed and out of the corners of your eyes and in the deepest parts of the closet you never turn the light off in. Monsters lurk. Here be dragons, says my mind. A constant, echoing warning; so familiar it was a buzzing sound in the background. But that didn't fix the fear and it never dulled. Sharp as the edge of a razor blade, no, sharper. My calm balanced precariously above the dark.

The knife was white.

But everyone must get tired sometimes and though the beating, brilliant white of the room never changed I still felt the irresistible tug to close my eyes. Not that even keeping my eyes open could fend off the nightmares. They would come, it was just a matter of when and how they would manifest themselves- And when I would decide to close my eyes anyway. The only time the white turned off I would pray to wake and for there to be a soul to take.

Emilis- Milisu- Lisu- Lisuen-

Listen.

A clink and a snap, the sound of sputtering and annoyance. It was dark. Only the sounds of the frustrated flicks, but after a few more the room did light up. A flame emerged, licking upwards, white, bright. I instinctively moved for the light.

My head told me to hide, to burrow into the darkness and shy away from the light. But my instincts kept my hands and legs grasping for the it, moving closer. The flame was mesmerizing, it's light nearly intoxicating, but a cold permanently weighed me down. I moved slowly, heavy, like lead.

As I reached out, nearly touched it, the lighter abruptly fell, smashing against the floor and going out. I lurched forward, searching for it obsessively. Hands jerking in small, shaky, panicked movements. A baby bird who knew it was close to death. My hands finally touched cold metal. So cold it hurt and I grasped it, the hope nearly slipping from my fingers.

The cold was heavy. It was coming closer. I thought I felt a breath at my ear, only a whisper, but I jumped, almost dropping the source of light. I pried it open, flicking at the switch, begging it to turn on. The cold was almost here, it was going to get me! It was going to eat me! Kill-

Light. It blazed to life, flickering like flames do and I held it close. The heat was comforting, the cold shied away. Warm, so nice and… Hot. Much too hot. I slowly looked at the flame and a face inside grinned for a split second.

"Hello."

Then I screamed as searing pain ripped over me. I was burning! Fire! Hot! Melting! The pain endured and just as I thought I was going to die the scene changed.

A bathroom, an old, gritty bathroom with grime lining the floor and mold in the cracked sink and tub. The last moment was when I jerked up to the broken mirror and only found a seared, melted face staring back at me.

"Hello."

I jerked awake, starting at my sudden clarity. It was white again. My hands were shaking, I was shaking. As I stared at the ceiling I hoped for the white to stay. 'Please don't leave!' I begged, but to no avail. That melted face flashed in my head and I could see it on the ceiling, clear as day. The cold, glowing eyes, the blackened, ruined features.

"I thought you would save me."

It echoed, a breath by my ear. I jerked away, gritting my teeth.

"Isn't that your job?"

It asked forlornly. But that face was not forlorn, the eyes were menacing and cold and deep inside the glow there was laughter. Hatred. Malice. I shook, scooting closer to the wall. As I neared it a hand stroked my arm, I gasped, looking down. There was nothing there. I squeezed my eyes closed. Hoping that perhaps it might disappear.

"Oh please? Won't you save me?"

It cackled mockingly and powerful hands dragged me to the wall, I started kicking and screaming, struggling to get away. The laughing face drew closer, burned flakes falling to the white floor, staining it. I curled into a ball, hiding my face, crying for it to stop. The face appeared on my eyelids, I couldn't escape! This was it, I was going to die!

I went still, hoping for it to just end. Please just end. But I knew that my prayers wouldn't be answered and that a part of me was going to die. The mouth opened, about to swallow me, horrible, black, rotting teeth. The stench washed over me, drawing out more tears. Silent tears and I looked away, in my own head. Just end.

But the end never came.

The horrible, painful ending never came. I shook, terrified that I was letting false hope consume me. That even after all this time I believed it could stop. But as the seconds ticked I peeked out from between my fingers. The face was gone, it was gone. It was snowing, pleasantly, there was no fear. No danger. I stopped breathing. This place was safe.

A birch forest surrounded me, with the softly falling snow and it was pleasantly quiet. The muted sounds of small animals around, no interest in me. A white fox appeared between the white trees and I tensed momentarily, but it did nothing. After a moment it began approaching, but I felt no impending danger. Nothing. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before.

When it was about ten feet away the fox stopped and looked at me with soft golden eyes and the wind blew. The snow obscured my view and heavy, consuming sleep overwhelmed me.

It was warm.

Comfortable. Plush. Posh, even. When I awoke I felt like I had slept for a year and a half. I felt like I would stay in this comfortable position for much longer. Perhaps I would hibernate. But as I kept my eyes closed and waited for that beautiful sleep the face flashed in my head and I jerked awake. The calm had been nice, but I had known it wouldn't last. I curled up, hands covering my eyes and waited quietly for the nightmare to return.

It didn't. I waited and waited, terrified that this newfound calm would leave. Finally, feeling like my lungs would implode, I gasped in a breath. I had been so scared I'd forgotten to breath. With a scoff my brain informed me of how stupid I was, letting hope consume me. It would return, it's just a matter of when… And how. It also took the chance to inform that my fear was stupid, it was going to happen regardless. I was reacting like a child.

Lost, I took three deep breaths, then six, then nine, waiting for a semblance of calm to return. For the white. Slowly I opened my eyes, expecting a well-lit white room with padded walls. Instead I found beige sheets. Large eyes blinked, staring at the foreign color in shock.

Then my body felt overly heavy and I came to the realization that blankets were over me, covering my head and body. It was dark in the blankets. But a nice darkness, one that spoke of sleep and calm, not violence. Not monsters.

Here be dragons.

I couldn't forget. I must be imagining this. It was another dream. It would end just as all the others. I would be consumed and when I awoke it would be painful and another part of me would be missing. Another hole. Like rice paper used for target practice.

My legs stirred and pushed my body out of the cocoon of blankets. My head emerged by the floor and I almost took a face dive off of the bed, scrambling up to the pillows in my panic. The room was pristine with a polished, wooden floor, a simple desk of dark wood and a silver lamp bent over a workspace. On it was an organized pile of paper, a few books, a pencil cup and a plant. Actually, there were plants everywhere. One in the corner, another hanging by a window veiled by shades. Claustrophobia crashed over me, making me curl up in the fluffy pillows. They were white, I felt comfortable with them.

The room had an overwhelming amount of color and things and, and… Decoration. It was nerve-wracking. I thought that something was going to jump out and eat me and I shook. As the shivering got worse, so did the fear. It was so silent, just like some of my nightmares. I didn't even know if I was awake.

When the door across the room opened I very literally screamed and jumped away from the bed, slamming my elbow on the floor and scrambling into the corner. The door flew open, a shape running toward me and I held up my hands, cowering away.

Oh God, please don't hurt me!

Hands grabbed my shoulders and held me, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and prayed for this to end quickly. After a moment of shaking I became aware of a noise, the hum in my ears and the beating of my heart took a back-seat. That noise became a voice, the voice became words. Beautiful, perfect, absolutely terrifying words.

"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay, I'm sorry." It repeated over and over again.

It was a beautiful voice, a pleasant voice. If I didn't know of the lies I would want to listen to it forever. But those promises screamed lies. I didn't feel safe, whatever it was would lull me into a false sense of security. It would hurt. It would hurt me, hurt me, hurt me.

"I won't hurt you." It whispered, letting go and letting me cower away.

Curiosity begged for large eyes to open and I fought to ignore it. The moment would be over, it would hurt, don't let it hurt you! But curiosity prevailed and through my shaking fingers, I peeked. Red, crimson red, strands of perfect, smooth red pulled behind quaint ears. Smooth skin, a long face, decorated with worry. Green eyes that sparkled and spoke of calm and sadness and hope.

Something dripped onto my hand, then more and I glanced at it, confused. Another drop of water splashed disappeared into it and I stared in those eyes and it only served for the drops to flow faster. Even if it did hurt, that face was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

It was human.

It had color.

It had emotion.

That beautiful, perfect emotion of the caring and the feeling and the calm. Someone who did not contain malice. The eyes softened as I stilled and the face of the fox from my dream flashed in my mind. The expression, the emotion, they matched up perfectly. Sudden calm rushed over my quivering limbs and heavy exhaustion washed over me.

I fell asleep against the wall, oblivious to the discomfort of the floor.

Deep, dreamless sleep.

My eyes opened slowly and this time I recognized the comfort and the warmth and the weight of the blankets. I knew where I was. And in those disconcerting moments of awakening a deep pull tugged at my heart. Even if it was just my imagination I wanted to see that face. It was the kind of pull that frightens rulers, inspires the hopeless, moves the obsessed. Like I wouldn't continue living without it.

For one breathless moment the pull stayed. Then that moment ended. I emerged from the blankets slowly, scared of that claustrophobia coming back. But as I saw the room I felt more relieved then terrified, like it was home. Home not prison.

My arms faltered as I pushed myself up, not that I blamed them. Most of the time of my life I had spent lying on my back staring at a ceiling that never changed. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I had moved. Not willingly.

I inspected the room more closely, noting the door and a picture of a beautiful garden next to the bed. Whoever this room belonged to certainly did love plants. I slid slowly and uncertainly out of the bed and over to the still shaded window. The cold of the floor caused a shudder, but I gently pulled the shade back enough for a peak hole.

The sky. The blue, the fluffy clouds, moving, restless. Constantly changing. My hand twitched and I found tears rushing down my face before I could even understand what was happening.

So long… I'd almost forgotten what it looked like.

I leaned against the wall and pulled my knees up, tucking in my face. Then I cried until I couldn't cry anymore, not sure what to do with this alien emotion.

I must have dozed off at some point because when I woke up I was back in bed and the window was dark. The shades had been pulled back some to let in a sliver of sky. It was orange and pink and the blue was dozing into navy. I stared at it, watching the sun set until there was nothing to see anymore. I could have been sitting there for an hour, perhaps more. I didn't care, I'd stared at more boring things for longer.

As the sky went dark I realized that I was not in the country, no, I hadn't even looked at the view. Slowly I tip-toed to the window and watched lights flicker on. Thousands, millions of them, like little fire-flies. I just wanted it to be this view and for it to never change. It was weird and maybe even scary to see so many things at once. But I wanted to look at it forever, pick out every detail, burn it into my head.

Just like my ceiling.

That thought caused it to crash onto me. The realization that I was not in that room, that I was in the world, with colors and people and things and for some reason there were no nightmares here. No monsters every time I closed my eyes. I wanted to go out and explore as much as I wanted to dive under the covers and hide from it all.

It must be a lie. This beautiful dream couldn't be real, it would sour. I was imagining it, the same way I had imagined everything outside of my room. I was still there, simply imagining this. But the feel of the covers, the detail, the clarity, it was something you don't find in dreams. Dreams are random, never quite the same place, never quite the same story, you can't remember them very well and you can't feel things the way you can when you're awake.

The tingling in my knees and the ache of my elbow were not feelings from a dream, no, not even a nightmare. These were real life things that didn't come and go if I looked away. Slowly, nervously, carefully, I came to the conclusion that I was awake. I wasn't in that room, that prison, that place of white and pain.

A sudden pull at my heart scared me. I wanted to find that person, I wanted to hug them tightly and say 'thank you' until I couldn't speak. I wanted to know who saved me, I wanted to know what the real world was like. My heart wanted to so badly, but my head kept up its incessant warning.

This is a lie. Don't trust it, don't put hope into it, it will ruin you. Lie, lie, lie.

After all that time I couldn't quite ignore these warnings. People didn't save you because they cared, they wanted something, people were cruel. People were terrifying. But those eyes wouldn't allow me to believe it. Wouldn't let me just pick one side or the other.

I curled onto my side, staring out of the window wondering what my answer should be. My eyes closed, quietly, safely, and I pondered what I should do. Should I return to the white room, return to my place of comfort and the place I knew or should I give this hope a chance? Give those eyes a chance? This place didn't have nightmares.

I finally came to a decision. A tentative decision, but one none the less. I would give this place a chance because it didn't hurt. Because of that person. A creak caused me to jerk fully awake and I almost panicked again before reminding myself of the choice. Slowly I sat up, trying to still the tremors in my hands. I peaked behind me and was surprised by a foreign face. She had brown hair and big eyes and was rather tall. At the sight of her another alien emotion swamped me. Disappointment.

I clammed up and looked back out the window, refusing to even look at her. It was childish, but I didn't know any better. She waited a few moments, but I stayed stubbornly silent so the girl sighed and set something down.

"I brought you some food… Please eat." She said, then quietly left, closing the door behind her.

I actually flinched at the door closing, wondering if I'd reacted badly. A sweat broke out on my forehead. What if I made him angry? What if staying here wasn't my choice… Again. As silently as possible I crawled to the door and opened it a crack, feeling better now that it wasn't closed. I didn't want to feel locked out, or in, again. Ever.

The food on the floor looked rather good and I hadn't eaten in who knows how long, my stomach rumbled as if to agree and I glared at it. But I was hungry and I disliked the girl, not the food. Food deserved only the highest status and should not be involved in petty arguments. With that reasoning I took a sip of the soup.

It was good. Like, really good. My eyes lit up and in the span of five minutes the whole plate, bread, soup, milk and all, was polished off. I stood up with the dishes and set them outside the door before deciding that it was time for a bathroom break. Actually, my bladder did. I was certain that I was going to explode.

The room did not have a bathroom in it and I squirmed, peaking out the door. The coast was clear, the hall was empty! I tiptoed to a door a few feet down the similarly wooded hall and silently cheered when I discovered it was, in fact, a bathroom.

I stepped through the door, thanking the lord for whoever blessed me with the luck to find the bathroom on the first try. After I had relieved myself I went to washing my hands, humming 'happy birthday' under my breath while doing it. What can I say? Old habits die hard.

I turned off the water and the room went silent. I stood for a moment, just because, then froze up. Clenching my small hands into fists and staring at them hard. There was a mirror, tiled floor, a bathtub behind me. I focused purely on breathing steadily, but that face was burned into my retinas. The most recent. Another one twisted around the edges. Flitting just beyond what I could see. The room grew cold, I felt like I knew that face. Knew what would happen if it surfaced.

I was scared. No, terrified. My carefully controlled breathing started getting ragged and I struggled to remain in control. I fought to muster up courage, strength. It was buried, buried deep, but I knew it was there. This was my new start, and it would be taken away over my dead body.

… But that wasn't a far-fetched idea when you're me. That thought was the one that terrified me the most. This feeling of not wanting to die was so new, so insane, so beautiful. I didn't know what to do with this determination. This certainty that I wasn't going down without a fight.

Hands.

I wouldn't just give up.

Under my skin it felt like.

I wasn't going to just roll over anymore.

A cry left my mouth, a yell of my determination.

"Leave!" I yelled, banishing the monsters. They could go find someone else to torture, this one was done. "Get out of my head!"

I saw red. I felt angry. With all of my will I yelled. No, ordered them away. This was my head. And miraculously they did. The hands evaporated, the whispers cut off abruptly, the face disappeared. They were gone.

I collapsed against the cabinet, shaking and exhausted. Sweat poured down my neck and I gasped in breaths, but I felt elated. Amazing. Certain. A slightly-hysterical laugh bubbled out of me, shaky and breathless. I had done it! I slowly got up, leaning heavily against the sink and looked into the mirror. Strong, ready.

Surprised.

Piercing gray eyes glared into mine. Powerful. A slight flush to the rather pale face with a shocking cascade of black hair. That face would scare or at least surprise most people, but I loved it. I wanted to look imposing. I wanted to dissuade people from harming me. But the look wore off and went from looking strong to looking over-tired, soft, shy.

I had probably been staring at myself for only a minute or two when the door burst open, a frazzled looking person in the doorway. I stared, frozen into silence. My heart might've skipped a beat or two. Red hair settled and I clenched my hands, torn between excitement and fear. His mouth moved, framing sounds I couldn't understand. As if hearing through cotton.

A… Are y…. Are you… Are you okay?

"Are you okay?" He was asking. I gaped like a fish at the question. Perfect, thank you to whoever designed my sense of finesse. You did a great job.

I blinked at him slowly, trying to process the question. Trying to realize what he was asking past my euphoria at his face. God, I could look at it all day. No! Focus! Answer the question! Stop watching his lips move and answer the question!

"Y… Yes." I finally choked out.

I staggered slightly, still exhausted from my outburst and leaned against the sink. I was not quite sure if I was imagining him. I mean, was there really a person alive who could knock me speechless by looking at me? His expression went from worried to glad and then he shuffled around for a moment, avoiding my eyes.

I was confused, what was he doing? Dancing? Is that what people do now? I blinked, trying to understand, then it hit me. I'd seen this before, back when I was in school. Floundering, hesitating, he was unsure of what to do. I swallowed, still nervous about approaching anyone, but ended up slowly shuffling forward, staring at my feet.

I got close enough to be in arm's reach and slowly looked up, about to say something, but as I glimpsed his face the words froze in my throat. Fear.

Red, blood, screaming.

I went rigid, staring. No, he wasn't.

Pain, violence, running, slamming doors.

He reached forward, as if to comfort me but instead I flinched. He's not one of them!

Agony, agony, agony. Hurts!

I jumped away, skittering backwards, my face white and cold.

Screaming, screaming, screaming. Pain, agony, hurts! Hurts!

Under my skin it felt like.

'Hello.'

Secrets.

'Can't you help us?'

Lies.

'Aren't you the savior?'

Can't! I can't! I don't know what to do!

I collapsed to the floor, shivering, over-whelmed and blacked out.

Finally, silence.