Hey guys! Whooh! This story is finally getting good! And sad, of course. But it wouldn't have come this far without the continued support of people like Evangeline Pond. And, just a reminder guys, all reviews are appreciated, (cough cough) Alright, without any further ado . . .

-^Lana^-

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I could barely breath. I was suddenly irrationally terrified. I longed to scream, to cry out, but my body betrayed me. I longed to cling to something, anything, to stop the fear, to stop the hallucinations, to make my body work. But all I could do was lay there, immobilized, mute, and helpless. Another surge of fear overcame me. But this time, it was different.

"Something's coming. Something's coming to kill me. And all I can do is lay here." I couldn't scream for anyone to help me, I couldn't move in any way to get away from whatever I sensed coming. I summoned up all my courage, and blinked. My vision blurred. I looked around the room in a hurried panic. My sense of fight or flight had been stopped, I was in a state of freeze. I could no longer pick out a coherent thought. All I knew was terror. I knew this would be a major panic attack. If you really want, I can describe the level of panic I had . . .

Imagine you are standing there, frozen, watching the world crumble and fall apart. Shatter. Go to pieces. Everything you've ever loved, everything you've ever held dear, gone. Just like that. You'll never see it again, so there's no use in wishing for it. You can't say a single word. You can barely breathe. You can't even scream. And you're so scared, so completely terrified, that not being able to scream is the ultimate torture. There is no animal or human there to comfort you. Nothing you hold dear, to hold onto as the world crumbles in front of you. You can't do anything but stand there and watch, trapped in a glass box, watching the world end. People call out to you, cry out for you to help them, but you can't. All you can do is watch as they fall, to their doom, never to be seen the box shatters, plunging you into a deep abyss. Into Hell.

All this in the first ten minutes.

After that, imagine you are in your own personalized Hell. Every demon you've ever encountered, or feared encountering, comes up to greet you personally. Most know you by name, and all know your weaknesses. Your greatest fears. Every single one. And except for them, you are completely alone. Just you and your fear. And the hours stretch on. Time is fluid. You could be there for minutes, or for an eternity. You can't tell. New terrors approach you all the time. And all you can do is bear it. Each demon has a different form of torture. And each demon knows exactly how to make you fear them. And, just like when you were in the glass box, you can't move. You can't speak. You can't breathe. To scream would be a luxury, a relief. But you are doomed to keep that scream inside of you, until the torture finally ends

This panic attack lasted for several hours. When I finally came to, Melissa was sitting next to me.

"Where's Artemis?" She asked me.

"Gone. Artemis is gone" After she left, I couldn't stop replaying his words in my head.

"I'm sick of pretending. The truth is, I can't stand this sickness of yours. I can't stand you. You're just . . . So annoying and immature. I can't pretend to be your friend anymore." Annoying. Immature. Both words that had been used against me many times before. So why did they hurt twice as much coming from Artemis's mouth? How many times had I been told to die, told that I had mo reason to live? And why did this cut deeper than that? Because I had loved him, I realized. I had loved him. And I had been stupid and naive, and I had thought I had a chance at love. I had thought Artemis might love me. But why would he? Who would love me? I picked up a chess piece, and threw it at the wall. This felt so good, that I threw the next one. And the next. I didn't stop until every piece was on the floor, shattered. The board I broke in half and threw over with the rest of the pieces. Then I simply buried myself in my pillow, and finally let myself cry. I let out every emotion, let it all go, until finally there was nothing. Just numbness.

-^Holly^-

"I'm worried about Artemis." Butler said. "He's insisting we take the next flight to Ireland. And he hasn't come out of his room since we got back from the hospital." I sighed.

"I'll talk to him." I said. I walked down the very small hallway and knocked on his door.

"I told you, Butler, I've no interest in eating at the moment." He said through the closed door.

"I'm not Butler, Mud Boy. Now, let me in." He opened the door.

"Holly." The circles under his eyes were more noticeable than ever. His face was pale and drawn. His hair was disheveled. He looked tired, and worried.

"Arty." I said. He flinched at the nickname.

"Lana called me that." He sighed. I walked into his room. It was cluttered. Probably because he was used to having more space. This was a rather small apartment. But it was also in a state of disarray. There were quite a few crumpled papers underneath the desk. I oicked one up. It was a half finished portrait of Lana. So were all the rest.

"You loved her, didn't you?" I asked him. He looked at me, and the answer was written in the lines on his forehead, the worry and sadness in his eyes, and the defeat he carried on his back, stooping his shoulders and pressing him down. Yes. He had loved her.