The southern girl led me up to the second floor. She didn't say why we were going up there, matter of fact she didn't say anything to me since the argument in the cafeteria, but then again I didn't feel like talking to her either. Why is she such a butch? I thought girls were supposed to be proper and non-violent. She even walked like a guy too, how weird is that?

It was really quiet now, besides the occasional grinding of metal and gust of hot air. I jumped when I heard that sound, the grinding of metal, I felt like my stomach was going to fly out my throat. She just looked at me and smirked. God she is such a... you know.

There were no monsters in sight. I expected to run into at least one of those mannequins around a corner, or something scary like that, but no, not a thing besides her and me. Even so, I was still constantly checking around corners and peering over my shoulder, just in case.

She stopped in front of a rusty door and looked at it. I stood behind her and checked the door too. There was a number on the door, barely visible. I squinted in the dim light to see the number: 206 was the number.

She reached out and rubbed her fingers across the numbers. "There's somethin' in here." She spoke quietly. She may have been calmer than me but she didn't want to be loud either.

I raised an eyebrow and replied, "Yeah, that's the psychiatrist's room, so what?" A joke about her being crazy jumped into my head and I tried not to smile. Getting her mad again would not be fun.

She turned to me, her hand still on the door. "You don' feel it?"

That crazy joke came up again. "Feel what? Like a vibe, or something, you mean?"

"Yeah... a vibe..." She drifted off and looked back at the door again.

Now I was concerned. What if she's been in this place longer than I have and she finally lost her mind? Maybe that's why she's here. "Well if that's the case, go in." I challenged her.

She whipped her head around to look at me. "Do I look stupid to you?"

I thought about answering that but quickly changed my mind.

"I gotta bad vibe about this here room. I ain't gonna go in there." She stepped away from the door and held her hands to her body.

"Chicken." I muttered under my breath.

She glared at me. "Say that again and watch what happens."

"Yella'." I challenged in my fake, southern accent.

She went red in the face; I must've struck a nerve. "I ain't yella'!" She retaliated. "I just ain't crazy like the rest o' y'all."

"Oh, you're not crazy, then why are you here? I don't think I'm crazy, yet here I am. I wonder why we are here, if we're not crazy?" I felt an overwhelming sense of power in my words. She may be able to throw punches but she can't make clever comebacks like I can.

"Lord all mighty! You think every grown-up is right about you, don't ya? They don't know you!"

"Neither do you, now shut up!"

She pointed a finger at me like a knife. "I didn't have to save your hide back in the lunch room, ya keep that in mind!"

"I can take care of myself, mom!" I emphasized.

She looked about ready to deck me right in the mouth, with her forehead. "Why you... you..." She looked funny trying to think of something nasty to say, her eyes all wide, her face going pale and her finger still pointed at me

Before she could say anything, something squeezed my throat and slowly pulled me backwards. I reached for my neck and felt a wet, slimy rope. It squeezed and cut of my free air. I started choking and gargling, then my knees buckled and I fell to the floor. That's when I realized that she wasn't getting mad at me. She had seen the tentacle before I noticed it around my neck, she was horrified.

I struggled with the slippery tentacle as it dragged me across the floor towards its hiding spot in the darkness. I watched her snap out of her horror trance and act upon the situation, but I was blacking out... She reached for something... She ran for me... I stopped moving backwards... I was being pulled the other way by my feet... She pulled me into a room... A small light flickered on...

"Hey, are ya a' right?" She asked me.

I open my eyes fully. She sat next to me on a chair, the nightstand light turned on and flickering. It looked like it was slowly dying, fading out. I reached for my neck and rubbed the tender, irritated skin. It felt wet and clammy like I was sweating but I wasn't. "What was that thing that got me?" I asked.

"I just call it a 'Choker'. They're a sneaky kind o' freak. I haven't seen what it looks like yet, but I saw it catch one of those mannequins and drag it into the ceiling." She shuddered. "Then I heard eating sounds... Gawd..."

"Okay..." I responded awkwardly. Obviously she does know this place better than I do. She knows the monsters and how they behave. How messed up is she in the head?

"Y'all stay right here, I'm gonna go get somethin' real fast-like, okay?"

Something about what she said cheered me up a bit; must be her accent. "Yeah, sure, go ahead." I replied, not giving a second thought.

She got up off the chair and crept to the door. She poked her head out, looking both ways, and creeped through the small gap. She slowly shut the squeaky door, clicking shut, and I was alone.

I stayed on the bed, not bothering to sit up either, feeling safe as long as my feet didn't touch the floor. Then I thought about the girl. My impression of her was an angry, violent hick who was suffering the same delusions as I was. She was so delusional that she accepted this place as reality. What a freaking nut job she is. I chuckled at the thought of her ditching me in a comedic manner as I was devoured by the darkness and its evil inhabitants. I bet she would do that, given the chance.

Time passed, I didn't know how much, but she didn't come back. Why exactly did she leave in the first place? She said she was going to get something but what? "I bet she ditched me." I muttered and my anger was on the brim of boiling my blood. "Or maybe she got hurt." My anger subsided at the thought of her being in pain or being trapped by monsters.

But hey, this was a dream, a delusion even. She wouldn't really get hurt, just like I wouldn't. Still, I felt I needed to check outside.

I sat up, swung my feet around and hopped off the bed. The mattress springs groaned as they were relieved of my light weight. I scuffed my feet across the floor and I reached the door. The reassurance of this whole experience not being real calmed my nerves but also made me a bit negligent about the delusional danger. Real or not, I still got hurt. The rusted door opened wide, squeaking on its hinges, and the dirty hallway welcomed me with a gust of hot air, stinging my eyes. After my recovery, I stepped into the hall and looked around. Nothing and no one was to be seen in the dim light. I felt both at ease and concerned about that, but I let the feeling slide. The psychiatrist's office was across the hall to my right and I noticed a pipe with blood on it. That must be what she used to get that Choker to let go of me. I stepped lightly towards the pipe and picked it up by the middle of it to avoid scraping it on the ground. My reassurance of this being a delusion was no longer reassuring, but the improvised weapon in my hand was. This place was still dangerous, I should've kept that thought in my head at all times.

Gripping the pipe by the un-bloody end with both hands, I crept back to the bedroom door and stood there at attention like a watch dog. I had to keep an eye out for that girl and I knew what I would use this pipe for if anything else came by. I imagined a hoard of mannequins coming for me and I was fighting them all of in an epic fashion. I smirked, but in my daydream I noticed something: The psychiatrist's room door was slightly ajar.

"She didn't actually go in there, did she?" I thought. "Oh no, I didn't think she would actually go in there when I dared her!" I shuffled to the psychiatrist's door, tightening my grip on the pipe. It was slightly open as I saw from a distance; she must have gone in there. My thoughts conflicted as I outstretched my open hand towards the door.

"No, you idiot, don't do it! It's a trap!"

"But this isn't real, I won't get hurt."

"How do you know you won't, what about the Choker?"

"That was a delusion, it wasn't real."

"It felt real enough!"

"Whatever, I'm going in!"

"You are so going to regret that!"

The room was in complete darkness. The light from the hall didn't even show beyond the edges of the door, like the darkness was eating the light. I wanted to turn back, run into the bedroom and curl up on the squeaky mattress but I was pulled in. No, more like... persuaded. My feet stepped in the room and kept walking as if they knew where they were going. My feet altered their course; I reached down to feel for anything my feet diverted. I felt hard leather; was it a foot stool? My fingers slid off the leather object as my feet continued, continuing a short ways and then coming to a halt. I reached down in front of me and felt leather again. My fingers explored the entire object; It felt like one of those things that patients lie down, the chair-couch things that you see in TV shows and movies. A futon? I felt the sense of comfort, felt the need to lie down on it, and I did just that. The leather was cold but it felt comfy, better than the squeaky mattress. My vision blured and I was drowned in fatigue. I watched the light from the hallway disappear as the door closed itself without any noise.

Well, I did feel sleepy, might as well take a nap. That girl will come find me if she's that concerned about me. She is such a mom.