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Chapter 3: Glossophobia

"And now introducing our next candidate, Chelsea!"

There was a roar of applause and a man in a red hat pushed Chelsea up to the podium. What was happening? Was this some kind of presidential debate? If it was, why the hell did she apply? Chelsea fearful eyes looked at the large crowd in front of her. She had to say something! Everyone was expecting her to!

"I-I... Um, wh-what is... Er..."

Silence. Complete and utter silence filled the room. Chelsea clutched her stomach. Any second now, she was going to lose her lunch and throw it up on the first and second rows. Suddenly, someone at the back started laughing. They stood up and pointed at her. Chelsea reconized him as the fisherman, Denny.

"Freak! She can't even talk properly!"

He continued laughing. Eventually, others joined in with him and pointed and laughed at her. Her breathing got heavy and she started to cry uncontrolably.

"Look! She can't speak and know she's crying too! Did you know she's also terrified of tiny spiders? What a baby!"

Chelsea looked over at the owner of the voice. In the corner of the room, Vaughn stood pointing a finger at her and smirking. Everyone laughed loudly, some even collapsing in fits of hysterics. Chelsea's legs buckled under her and she fell to the ground, weeping and sobbing, burying her face in her hands.

"Hey, let's get rid of her! No one needs losers like her!"

The room nodded and began chanting, "Kill her! Kill her!" Two strong arms grabbed her weak ones and began pulling her away. Chelsea couldn't do anything. They flung her down a dark hole. The last thing she saw was Vaughn's smirking face before hitting the floor with a painful thud.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Chelsea shot up from the bed, letting out a blood curling scream. She let out a strangled cough and put a hand over her beating heart. She was covered in sweat and her face was stained with tears. She tried to calm herself down. It was only a nightmare. Just a terrifying, horrific, smothering, petrifying nightmare.

Breathing deeply, Chelsea decided to take a quick walk. She pulled on a coat and put on her boots. She quickly grabbed a torch and walked outside. It was very dark and Chelsea, having lygophobia, turned on the torch almost immeadiatly after walking out. Holding the torch in one hand and fiddling with the buttons on her coat with the other, Chelsea made her way towards the beach.

After reaching the beach, Chelsea sat down on the sand and pulled her legs to her chest, hugging them. The nightmare still lingering on her mind, she tried to rationalise why it wasn't true. Well, for one, it clearly was some kind of presidential debate. Chelsea would never, ever, EVER sign up for something like that. Second, the person who exposed her was Vaughn. Chelsea didn't know him very well but he seemed like the person who was good at keeping secrets and didn't want attention to be attracted to him. So, if put in that position, she didn't think he'd yell at the top of his lungs about her arachnophobia. But you never know.

After another five minutes of staring at the sea, Chelsea decided to leave. She stood up and brushed the sand off of her pajama bottoms. Smoothing out her hair with one hand, she turned around and began walking back towards the entrance. The torch's light illuminated the route for her, making it fairly easy for her to walk home. But, every now and again, Chelsea would hear something and spin around frantically to make sure no one was behind her with a knife.

As she was nearing the inn, Chelsea heard the rustling of bushes behind her. Scared, she spun around and shone the light on them. Nothing. Just the wind. Letting out a sigh of relief, Chelsea turned back to continue to the inn. However, blocking her path to the inn, her eyes met someone's chest. She did the first reaction that came to mind and let out a loud scream. A hand clamped over her mouth and someone frantically shushed her.

"Are you crazy?! You'll wake the whole neighbourhood!" a deep voice hissed.

Chelsea opened her eyes and looked up at her attacker. Concerned amethyst eyes glared back at her. Chelsea knew those eyes. After determining that she wouldn't scream again, they removed their hand.

"V-Vaughn? I-Is that y-you?"

The shadow figure, now known as Vaughn, nodded.

"Er, yeah. I saw you wanderin' around and came down to see what you were up to. A lady shouldn't be walkin' around alone at this hour. You don't know who may get at you."

Chelsea only stood in shock, repeatedly opening and closing her mouth. She wanted to say something but couldn't find the correct words. So, in the end, she ended up just saying:

"U-um... Thanks?"

Vaughn let out a small sigh. This girl was just as bad, if not worse, at conversation then he was. He watched as she unbuttoned and rebuttoned the top button on her coat. There was a very awkward silence until Vaughn finally decided to say something.

"Come on. You can come in to the place I'm stayin' at for a moment. I'll fix you up with a hot drink."

Chelsea stared at him as he retreated back to the barn-like house with her mouth open. Vaughn turned back around with an irratated glare. "You comin' or not?" She nodded and followed him quickly.

Vaughn held the door open as Chelsea walked in. The house was very cosy looking. The front part of the house was some kind of shop with a counter and cash register. To the right, there was an arch that lead into the kitchen come dining room. There was a flight of stairs that went up to the second floor where, presumably, the bedrooms were. The walls were decorated with portraits, horse-shoes and lassoes. Chelsea followed Vaughn into the kitchen and sat down at the table gingerly.

"Tea, hot chocolate, milk, coffee, hot milk?" Vaughn asked.

"O-oh... Um, hot milk... P-please," she replied. Vaughn nodded and poured some milk into a pot. He placed it on the stove and began to heat it up. Chelsea watched with fascination; She never was good at cooking. Everything she tried to cook ended up failing. Vaughn took the pot of heated milk and poured it into two cups. He brought them over to the table and carefully handed one to Chelsea. She took it gratefully and began sipping away at the delicious drink. Vaughn sat across from her and began taking a sip from his own drink. When it was half empty, he put it down and turned to Chelsea.

"So, why were you wanderin' around town at the dead of night?" he asked, eyeing her suspiously. Even still, Chelsea felt uncomfortable under his gaze and began to fidget and blush nervously.

"I-I, um... I-I had a ni-nightmare and I, er, I couldn't g-go back to sl-slee-sleep," she stuttered, staring into her cup.

Vaughn dipped his finger into the milk and began stirring it around absent-mindedly. "What was it 'bout?"

Chelsea began unbuttoning and rebuttoning the top button on her coat. Could she trust him? He probably already thought she was a freak with her arachnophobia, could she tell him about another phobia she had? Her thoughts trailed back to the dream, where he had outed her about her fear of the eight-legged creatures, and she winced.

"You don't have to," Vaughn added, after seeing her hesitate. To be honest, he was very curious about the small farm girl. It was pretty clear to him that spiders weren't the only thing she was scared of.

Chelsea took a long sip of the milk, still thinking about telling him. Biting her lip, she decided to take the risk and confide in him and told him about the nightmare. Vaughn listened closely as she described the fear she felt when she stepped up to the podium, the embarrassment when listening to the laughter directed at her and the sinking feeling when he yelled out fear of spiders. When she finished, Chelsea looked down at her hands, blushing. Vaughn closed his eyes and processed the information she had given him.

"So, you have glossophobia as well?" he asked, hoping the question hadn't come out rude. She looked up in shock, pink still dusting her cheeks, and nodded slowly.

"H-How did you..?"

Vaughn only shrugged and leant back in his chair. "I studied medicine in college for a year before I dropped out. You described the feelin' of havin' to talk as 'terrifying' and 'smothering'. Pair that with how embarrassed you felt afterwards and you have yourself a case of glossophobia."

Chelsea looked back down at her hands and began to unbutton and rebutton the top button once more. Clearly a nervous habit, Vaughn thought. He drank the rest of the milk and put his cup into the sink. Chelsea finished her's off and followed suit. She still felt very nervous. It was like being back at the psychiatrist, only the room wasn't white, they were offering her hot milk instead of coffee and the shrink wasn't dressed in a white coat and insisting this was for your own good.

Vaughn looked down at the timid girl. He rubbed the back of his neck, was he willing to go this far for someone he didn't know very well? But she reminded him of himself so much...

"I-I think I'll go b-back hom-, er... B-back to the i-inn... Th-thanks for the mi-milk..."

Before she could turn away, Vaughn said something that caught her interest. "I used to have glossophobia too."

Chelsea froze and looked at him. He had it too? Or used to have it? How had he gotten rid of it? Did it leave him feeling happy? Or was he upset for all the years of socializing he lost? Chelsea sat back down on the seat, her eyes wide with shock. She watched as he fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Yeah, when I was nine I was diagnosed with glossophobia too. After I found out, I hardly came out of my room and avoided talkin' with everyone. When I turned fifteen, my foster parents arranged for me to see a psychiatrist every week. I eventually lost it but it did major damage to my social skills. I don't stutter anymore but I try to avoid conversation as much as possible."

Chelsea listened with both a mixture of shock and happiness. She felt happy that Vaughn had managed to get over his glossophobia. She was still shocked that she had found someone who could relate to her problems. Vaughn could see the look of admiration Chelsea was giving him and made a rash, on-the-spot, decision.

"There is no shrink on the island but, if you want, I can run over some of the exercises I did with him and try to help you over your glossophobia. O-Only if you want though..."

Chelsea's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "W-Would you..? C-Could you?!"

Vaughn nodded slowly, not used to the look of pure joy and idolisation aimed at him. Chelsea squealed loudly and grinned broadly. She probably would have hugged Vaughn if she hadn't had haphephobia. She gave him a giant smile and skipped towards the door.

"Th-thanks so much, V-Vaughn! Y-You don't know how m-much this m-me-means to me!"

Letting out one more squeal of joy, she skipped out of the house and back towards the inn.