Hey, this is my first FanFiction, so I hope it's good! Took awhile for me to write down all the ideas in my head...anywway, hope you guys like it!
I do not own Ib, or any of it's characters, though I wish I did.
Ib POV
I forced my feet to move, pushing one after the other, feeling like there were lead weights strapped to my limbs. Even with the fatigue of running constantly, as yet another woman attached to a painting lurched off the wall, my legs were sparked with new found energy and skidded across the hallway. I was running seemingly endlessly, and definitely pointlessly through a maze of animated artwork. My grip on sanity was the clicking of my unreasonable uniform shoes against the floor of every winding hallway I passed.
I was contemplating letting them have their way, giving up and surrendering, until the man running with me and leading me through Hell gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I gave another burst of drive, but I was running out of energy. As I saw a clearing free of insane lady paintings or headless statues, the end of the maze, I rushed in instantly. I took a much needed deep breath, and leaned against the wall as the man went to close the door before any blood crazed women made their way out of the maze we had just exited.
I clutched a beautiful red rose with only a couple petals left in my hand, holding one of the few petals between my thumb and index finger. I rubbed the velvety surface with curiosity. I inspected the thorns that riddled it's being, and gently prodded one of the little needles. The thorn slipped inside my flesh, and I gave a small yelp, and dropped the rose. It hit the floor, and one of the petals was knocked off. I cried out in pain, clutching my chest. The man rushed to my side, picking up the rose and holding it protectively. He put an arm around my shocked and shaking body, and my shakes slightly subsided. My chest panged with every second, but what was curious was how this heart attack-like feeling began when the petal fell off.
The man pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, and held it back by placing the rose with only two petals left on top. His lips moved, but all I could focus on was the vanishing feeling of my heart being ripped out of my chest. All i could make out of his jumbled words were scraps; Rose...Ib...careful...worried about you...understand? Ib...He knew my name? He seemed familiar, looking up to his violet hair and striking blue eyes through the tunnel of my sight. But I had no idea in the slightest who he was.
The man gave me a kind smile, but all I could do was lazily blink. My arms were already riddled with scratches, as well as my legs and face. Who knew where else, so I didn't need a long gash across my heart just then, which is what it felt like. I reached a shuddering hand to the rose in my hair, before passing out.
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Narrator POV
A seventeen year-old Ib's crimson eyes shot open, expressing panic. She hunched over her knees, half pulled to her body, half outstretched across the bed. She breathed heavily, running a hand through her hair. She had no recognition of her dream, just the fact it was a nightmare, and very nostalgic. She felt something soft, not her silky hair, but the velvet of a rose petal. A blue rose petal. She pulled the rose petal from her hair, and turned around to see the stem of a wilted rose on her pillow, with a single blue rose petal clutching it. She picked it up, curiously twirling it around between two fingers.
Ib placed the dying flower into the bouquet in the vase on her bedside table, surrounded by other flowers and several 'Get well soon' balloons. She sighed. Ib figured her mother had placed the rose in her hair while she slept, only mildly weirded out by the fact it was wilted and barely holding onto life.
Ib fiddled with the fabric of her sheets, and sighed lightly. Her attention was piqued by a shadow crawling across the shudders of her room's window. Someone tugged on the old handle, and it resisted until a man's figure was pushed against the door. Ib's breathing caught, and she dug under the bleached sheets. Finally, the handle gave way like it was the victim of a break-in. Ib breathed in relief, it was only her her wacko dad.
Her father, followed by her mother, entered her room, both with worry lines and dark circles under their eyes, but genuinely happy smiles. Ib gave a small, but forced, smile, and only reacted as she was pulled into an embrace from her mother by laying a pallid hand on her mother's hair as the woman who always stayed strong for her sake shook with the weight of tears. Tears of despair, and love for her daughter. Ib noticed her father lying off to the side, in the corner of the room, to be specific, where the sunlight from the window to outside couldn't reach him.
Ib only smoothed down her mother's hair. "Thanks for the rose, you guys." She whispered.
Her mother pulled back. "They've already arrived?" She was no longer hugging her daughter, but a a hand lied on her shoulder.
Ib was confused. "Just one..." She breathily whispered. A small and thin hand gestured to the now fully bloomed blue rose in a mass of Tiger Lilys, Baby's Breath, and Chrysanthemums. Her mother carefully picked the rose from the side of the vase. Ib's breath caught as she realized it had been previously on it's death bed, and now it was healthy as ever.
"But..." Ib was caught off by the sight of her mother's thin lipped smile. "This wasn't from either of us. looks like you've got yourself a secret admirer."
Ib gave a shaky smile. Her father, who had been standing off to the side with a devoid face, the smile gone, stepped forward. Ib hoped he was going to confess he did it, and they could laugh like a family again, but he simply stepped away from her bed, and started heading off for the door. Her mother gave a apologetic smile to Ib before rushing to follow her spouse, leaving Ib all alone.
Again.
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Ib's Mother POV
Once I got caught up with my husband, I grabbed his sleeve and jerked him back towards me, brushing off the fact I was making a scene. I wanted the answer to why he was acting to recklessly and so uncaring about our only daughter's feelings.
"What was that all about, Darling?" I hissed into his ear. My patience was wearing thin. He sighed, and his eyes remained looking forward.
"Our sweet, angel Ib is tainted now."
I nearly slapped him. Looking back, I wish I did. It might have given him some sense. "She is still our daughter, and is lost inside herself! She needs love and attention, not a father who's disowning her!"
An attendant came up behind her. "Please, ma'am. You are causing some of our-more unstable-patients anguish."
I sighed, and pushed the man who previously seemed so unshakable from my grasp. I made my way to the front desk, him following sulkily behind me. We were in the far end of the hospital, so we had to walk quite far. A nurse pushing a cart loaded heavy with drugs was rushing through the hall, and paused in front of a door a couple from where we were standing. The door was opened, revealing the scene inside.
There was a single girl with blonde hair, probably only in her twenties, struggling under the weight of a doctor and several nurses, shrieking and screeching like they were about to murder her, not sedate her.
The stranger with whom I shared my surname with sighed, and I could see in his eyes that that was how he probably viewed our daughter. Our precious Ib, a nutcase in the mad house.
Hope you guys liked it, and I will be making another chapter depending on the criteria and reviews, so make sure you review if you liked it! :D
