Takes place sometime in '90
The room was a bland white, just like the clothes that she wore. Apparently, bright colors would set them off. Miranda had been in the ward for three months now. Three mind numbing months. Her and uncle had sent her there when they had run out of things to try to keep her form hearing the voices. They had tried everything they could to stop it, from exorcisms to seals. Nothing worked.
Miranda had tried to tell them that the voices were goods, that they protected her form harm. They wouldn't listen. They eventually figured that it was a recently surfaced trauma from her parents death. But it wasn't.
Thought, how could she tell them it was Angels?