"Sharon!"
The voice was female, and it was frantic. The maternal voice, more rather scream, was laced with terror and fear.
"Christopher, can you see anything," The voice called out, but not as loud. It called to the balcony above, connected to a large home in what appeared to be a secluded forest. Sure there were neighbors, but it wasn't as if they lived right next door. They were apart, separated by the thick forest of thin trees. The trees themselves seemed to raise themselves to the sky, to the heavens, appearing strong and tall; yet no matter what they would always be weak.
The uniquely built house was built from gently smoothed plaster; a marble white color painted as the primary color. The doors and window frames were built for a solid, furnished, wood. The left side of the house, the room that could be admired as art itself, was the room with walls made of windows. Anyone could see inside, but then again not many people lived out and around where this family lived. The only major busy part of their home was the nearby highway; it ran over top of the water fall. The buzzing of speeding cars reached their home, even with all these trees helping to block the noise.
And, as if hit by something so powerful, the female voice realized what the dangers were. And her daughter was out there.
"Oh god, Sharon? Sharon!" She yelled again. The distraught mother was screaming out her lungs at an invisible figure; she couldn't see where her little girl had run off too.
"She's there, hurry Rose!" The male, presumably the father and husband figure in the small family, called to Rose from a top the bedroom balcony. Unlike his wife, Rose, he could see just about everything, down to the highway. And a small figure dressed in pajama clothing had caught his eye. Something had fallen from that figure's hands as she continued on, ignoring her mother's cries. He, himself, took a last glance before hurrying into the house. Christopher was going to help. He was.
Rose ran from her spot on the, what seemed to be, unfinished deck. Her bare feet squishing into the moist earth, pulling out, and moving forward in a jogging motion. Her turquoise green shorts and white tank top, used as night-time-wear, had already began to soak with sweat, attaching to her golden toned skin. A golden locket dangled around her neck, flopping from side to opposite side as she ran down the stone steps that led deeper into the forest. Her chin length blonde hair was damp from perspiration and climate. Rose pushed it behind her ears, slicking it back off her forehead, as she reached the bottom.
The cold hard feeling on her feet was once again replaced with the muddy earth and fallen leaves of the forest. She stopped, but only to pick up the item her daughter had dropped; one of her favorite items, a stuffed bear. The stuffing was falling out, but not because of recent events, it was a very old toy and was worn from all the times Sharon had played with it.
Rose smiled, fluffing the stuffing spilling from the loosened thread on the sides. She remembered given Sharon this toy, a few years after they had adopted her. The happy memory didn't stay long. The sharp horn of a truck sped through her ears, her face jumping towards the sound, her body aching from anticipation and anxiety. The fear was driving Rose mad.
She could hear her husband, shutting the door behind him at the top of the steps, but it didn't stop her.
"Sharon!" She yelled again, running now, towards the on coming cars. Water was now burying her feet as she grew closer and closer to the water fall, to those cars. Her feet slapped against wet cement as she ran under the bridge, only coming to a stop to once again hear a horn toot above her. It was loud, as was the sound of the cars rolling by at absurd speeds. The car had seemed to have stopped.
"No." She whispered to herself.
Rose dropped the bear and ran out from underneath the bridge, but not before catching the sound of an argument overhead. It isn't my baby, she thought to herself, peering down the waterfall's edge.
"Sharon!" She yelled again.
Rose looked around, Sharon was just no where in sight. That was until, something moaned. She looked up, watching as her daughter wobbled almost drunkenly on the cliff above the water, and next to the road. Sharon moaned again, her half opened eyes looking downwards. Downwards into hell, but her mother couldn't possibly know. Her head pointed down, and her body rolled foreword, barely stopping itself. Rose screamed. As did Sharon, but it was a scream her mother could not here. She was screaming as she dreamt. Screaming as she watched the ground beneath begin to give way.
Sharon watched as the grass turned brown, eventually evaporating into a metal catwalk. Below the catwalk was rusted machinery, pieced together. Only fire, it bubbled as the form of liquid lava, the flames licking up at her. Then there was she. A she Sharon had a sudden need to be with. She needed this lonely, dirty, looking girl. Sharon stepped foreword, stretched out her arms like a bird. For a second, she let the steam hit her, letting her body bathe in it, before closing her eyes and letting herself fall foreword.
Rose screamed out, tackling Sharon to the ground away from the cliff area. She had almost jumped into the lake hundreds, thousands, of feet below. Sharon writhed and squirmed underneath her mother. She screamed out, kicking and pushing away the shadowed figure that had suddenly taken hold of her, preventing her from diving.
"Silent Hill!"
"SILENT HILL!" Sharon screamed out in her sleep. Four pairs of hands rubbed her face, held her tight. She was falling back into her dream. The soothing voice of her father beside her was enough to comfort her.
"Don't worry baby, we're here."
Was the last she heard before falling back into a deep sleep.
"She said it again Christopher." Rose put her forehead on her husbands, catching her breath; which could clearly be seen as she breathed. She had placed Sharon on her body, her head on her lap. She seemed to be at peace now.
"I know, come here baby." Christopher spoke to her, gasping for air himself. She pulled them all into an embrace, letting his fears die away, letting his soul rest. Rose had placed her chin on his shoulder, staring at the light that illuminated the sky. It was a white glow, coming from over the small thicket of shaped trees. A cross. It stood out against the darkness of the night, highlighted with neon, and place high up for all to see. It was like the religious people's way of giving peace and tranquility to the insane and corrupt world.
Rose wet her lips, letting out a few pent up tears of relief, and spoke in a whisper to herself.
"...Silent Hill..."
