Hello! Don't know where this idea came from- I think it's because my friend was talking and she said how insane she was... And I wondered how it would feel like to be insane, and then I thought of Angeline. I had to take the chance- I wanted something original, something as close to unused as possible. So I came home and wrote this. :D I have posted 3 stories in 4 days... Now that I figured it out, I can't believe it! Wahoo, I have Microsoft Word! No more word-counting by fingers! Yay! I am planning to have four or five chapters (just guessing, people), each with around two thousand words. Hopefully. I will post the chapter when I have the next one written, so I will have a clear idea of my plot.

This story is in first-person Angeline's point of view.

This will be my first chaptered story, but it shouldn't be that long. I hope I can figure out how to do the chapter-thingies.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or plot lines from Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer does.

Passing Through Insane Lane

"Bye, sweetie." I said wistfully. My husband, Artemis Fowl I looked at me with affection, mixed with a little annoyance. "Goodbye darling, I should hope to be back sometime soon; perhaps in a month." He nodded towards our son, Artemis Fowl II. "Goodbye, son."

"Goodbye, Father."

I sighed as he closed the door. It was going to be a long month.

What would I do without him? What was he doing again, taking some two-hundred and fifty cans of cola to Russia?

This was his newest plan to make money. Why we needed more money, I don't know. We had a lot already; it was enough to probably feed Ireland for a month.

Now he was gone, and I had a strong feeling I wouldn't see him in a long time. Much, much longer than a simple month.

Three weeks later

"Juliet, be a good girl and make some caviar please, won't you?" I called out to my maid cheerfully. "Artemis is coming home from school soon, let's make him his favorite! Butler left to pick him up, didn't he?"

"Yes Mrs. Fowl, he left just a few minutes ago."

"Good. Now, uh… get that caviar ready, we should have enough for us all."

"Yes, Mrs. Fowl. I'll get the caviar out right now."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, the caviar. Go on then."

The only thing that was on my mind was my daily e-mail from Artemis. The first, of course. Every day at 3:30, he would send me an email. And I would always reply him. Apparently the Artic was too far away for us to instant message.

I felt like a teenager again, waiting for a certain guy's note.

The stairs were no match for me; I bounced up every single one of them to get to my computer. When I got there, I immediately got on-line. My feet tapped impatiently on the cold floor as I waited for my many e-mails to load. Not that I read any of them.. just my dear husband's.

But to my surprise, instead of his too-smart-for-his-own-good title, there was a different one.

It read: Important News: Regarding Artemis Fowl I.

In my curiosity, I had to open it. The text loaded slowly, making me nervous. What could this mean? As the text loaded before my eyes, I started reading.

To Mrs. Angeline Fowl,

We are very sorry to inform you of an unfortunate accident. The Fowl Star, along with all its passengers and all two-hundred and fifty cans of cola, has sank just outside of Russia. Artemis Fowl I has been declared missing and presumed-

I stopped right there. I deleted the message. My stomach rolled with my lunch, and I had to run to the toilet to vomit.

When I was finished, I flushed the toilet. There went lunch, along with tears. There went what I loved most, down the drain.

The words had sunk in while I was... busy... and I had to cry. The tears came out like rain, drop after drop after drop, yet shattering like glass on the floor. I held myself because there was no one there to hold me and cried harder. Why now? Why when we were doing so well? Not just with money, either.

When he left, Artemis and I had grown closer. The daily e-mails were soon always ended by 'I love you', and we both admitted we looked forward to each other's messages.

After I had regained control, I called my son up. He was home by now- and he had the right to know.

When he entered the room, I couldn't help but glare at him. Here was the boy, the second, that resembled so much - not resembled.. resembles - my dear love.

He looked taken aback and perhaps offended by my glare. Why was he offended, he shouldn't have anything to worry about? He is only eleven, anyway.

"Arty..." I couldn't bear to call him Artemis. That was his name. Not my son's. It belonged to him alone.

"Yes, Mother?"

I started up again. "Arty... about the Fowl Star... Well- It sank." Those were the two hardest words I had said in my life. 'I do' was so much easier to say.

He looked surprised, and couldn't speak, only stammer for a moment. But then he regained his composure and simply replied, "And Father?"

"He's... declared missing."

My son looked at me sadly. He had read all the psychology books in the house, he probably thinks he knew what I was feeling. He doesn't. I heard something, and noticed that he had started shuffling his feet on the floor. If Artemis saw him, he would scold him and tell him that wasn't dignified.

Tears welled up in my eyes once again.

"Mother, may I leave?" Artemis II said uncomfortably. I couldn't believe him. The boy had just found out his father was most likely dead, and this was all he could say?

"Yes. Leave." I managed to sob out, the very syllables choking in my throat.

He walked out of the room slowly, not looking back, leaving me alone, wailing miserably. How was it possible that an e-mail had done this much to my life in such a short time?

Sometimes, when I was but a child, I wondered what my future held. Would I marry my dream husband, and have many children and a perfect life?

At least the first part was true. But alas, I only have one child, and my life is anything but perfect.

I am Angeline Fowl, and my husband is dead.

Dead. Gone. Deceased. Departed from this world. They had to tell me.

He was so... I can't even describe him. He was just... Perfect.

And now, the depression is killing me. I can't accept it. I won't. He couldn't have died- he wouldn't leave me. I know for sure that he is out there, finding his way back to me. In the meantime, what will I do?

The answer is simple, of course. I will hide. I will easily leave the normal world for a while. I will know he is there, and when he comes to me, I will be cured. He will be my cure.

A month later--

I didn't realize it would be so addictive. I hid, and just pretended he was there.

But I got so used to being insane, hiding within deep in my mind. Now I can't come back to the world, and every little bit of light scares me.

The craziness disturbed my conscience, and he brought his friends to haunt me. Now they all speak to me during the night, and I am afraid to see them.

I really am crazy. Insane. Mentally Retarded. What ever you want to say.

But it's better than being normal. Out there, the reporters and even my family would pester me. Interview me, interrogate me, about him. I don't want to talk- Especially not about him. I know they wouldn't believe me. I know he's coming back, and I know more that only I believe it.

What would they say if they heard me? 'It's just more ramblings of a clinically insane woman.' 'Poor girl, she's depressed because she lost her husband.' He's not dead. I could tell them over and over again, but they wouldn't believe me. He's coming back to me. And when he does, I'll laugh at all them. They who lost faith in him.

Then I will smile into his gorgeous eyes, and tell him that I never lost faith in him. Not once. That I always knew he'd be back. That I waited for him, for all these weeks.

I sighed, melancholy, in my bed, thinking about all the good times we had. I thought about raising Artemis II, about when I first asked my husband what to name our child.

"Honey, when we have a child, what will we name it?"

"Well, Artemis II of course. What did you expect?" He said, with an exasperated and know-it-all tone in his voice. This didn't make me annoyed, it just made me love him more.

"But what if it's a girl?"

"Artemis II. Same thing- my name can be for boys or girls, remember? That's what they used to tease me about in grade school."

I giggled then couldn't hold back a full-throated laugh, and soon he joined in with me, for the first time in ages.

Those were good times. I searched my mind for another one, only to find, shocked, that it didn't come. I was scared, more scared than ever.

I slowly got up from my bed, struggling to stand upright. I had pictures, in the drawer across the room. I had to get them. The memories were fading away. How long have I been dwelling on them, counting on them to make me get through?

I had no idea. The drawer was approaching closer, but then I tripped, and fell on my ankle. The pain was new, the feeling of it rusty… I yelped in pain, clutching my poor ankle like a baby.

Artemis II and my maid simultaneously burst into the room, demanding to know what was wrong. I suppose it had been a while since I left the bed. I left perhaps once, twice a day. I looked back and was surprised to see my imprint pushed down into the mattress.

Suddenly the bed looked so comfortable again…

"Pictures," I croaked out. I must look a mess… hair tangled, dirty nightgown, poor voice. "I want my pictures…"

My son sighed and opened the drawer. He drew out an old, dusty photo album, worn from the hands of inexperienced scrap bookers and months of sitting, alone, collecting mothballs.

He wiped it off with a nearby handkerchief – one that used to be mine – and wiped all the gunk off of it. Then he handed it to me, and struggling, I held it tightly to my chest and limped back to the bed.

None offered to help me. Perhaps they were just intimidated, scared by the antics of an insane woman, or maybe they were just mean.

When they left, I turned the pages of the photo book, sighing as old memories engulfed me, one by one.

And no matter how long it takes, I will really wait for him. If it takes months, or years, I will stay this way – insane – and wait for him to come back. And I know that he will.

And if something happens, and he never returns, than I will die this way. In anguish, alone.

………….

Hope you enjoy it... I should post whenever I get the next chapter done. :D avovisto