Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own Toy Story. I would like to thank those that have taken time to read, alert, favourite, or review this story:)

It was the piercing swerve of the vehicle that bleached Jessie's ears; burning her ear drums beyond physical comfort.

At that moment, all she wanted to do was cream and slap her hands against her ears. But soon discovered than this was not possible in her current state. She wasn't able to most, blink, or even mutter the simplest of sounds.

All she could do was watch the scene in absolute horror.

By now, the left side of the vehicle was almost completely destroyed as the vehicle swerved into a park car. Alarms blazed, people were now screaming in absoulte terror, and life was coming to an abrupt end for Emily Jane, the one in the drivers seat of the swerving vehicle.

...

By the time the Ambulance had arrived, the body of Emily Jane had already been pulled from the wreckage, her eyes were closed on her terror struck face.

When the car came speeding around the corner, she had no chance of avoiding the vehicle, so the car tore straight through hers. But it was her side of the vehicle that took the most damage, the other side was almost untouched.

However, this never left the infant unharmed. And it was this accident that led to the problems she developed in later life. Well...a majority of them.

But at this moment, Jessie's eyes were focused on something else; her dying mother.

Within her seventeen years of life, Jessie never had even the slightest recollection of her mother. She had no idea what she looked like; had no idea what she was like; and had no idea of what really happened on that day. How the car led to crashing in the first place.

All she had ever known was her mothers name; Emily Jane. And she knew that she and her mother had been involved in a car incident years before. But the information she knew of the day had always been scarce. However, she didn't need to be a genius for the instinct to sink in.

She was overlooking her mothers dead body.

By now, her forehead was already ridiculed with spots of crimson blood. The liquid oozing out from the fresh cuts from the shards of glass. Her Strawberry-blonde hair was layer with the dust, the glass, and the blood, making her unnaturally pale face stand out to an even larger extent.

Jessie wanted to look no further. But she wasn't like she could just close her eyes, therefore blocking the site from her world. She felt like gagging and passing out at that moment. But these were all actions that she was unable to proceed in.

When the paramedic knelt beside the lifeless body, he shook his head at his colleague.

The death of Emily Jane was made official as they dealt with the injured infant.

And then there was nothing but the dark.

Jessie could only presume that she was still in an anonymous state when the dark flooded in; seemingly overriding her nerves to an extent of which she was unable to bear.

She really hated the dark, and she didn't think there would ever be a way to cure, or lessen, her phobia. She's had it for too long to overcome it.

But then she heard the voice in the back of her mind, standing out from her reoccurring thoughts like a building caught in an updraft; swirling round and round until it threatened to alter her current sanity in a desperate hope to drive her completely insane.

It probably wasn't the dark that terrified her out of her wits. It was the fact that she was unable to see what was lurking within the dark; just waiting for the time to grab her ankle and pull her into the abyss of terror.

She knew that her phobia was silly, and stupid, but she just couldn't stand it. She had no idea what would ever happen in the dark. She may find a completely new world? She may wake up to find that it was all a silly dream. Or she could never find what lay on the other side at all, to be trapped in this state forever? Or maybe she slipped into a never-ending slumber without realizing?

Maybe this was what death was like? Just plain darkness.

This thought made her concentration drift back to all those religious confrontations they used to have in school assemblies, of which attempted the kids to live life in a sinless, and rather robotic, way. Trying to persuade them that they'll be sent to heaven if they live a 'flawless' life. But Jessie had never believed in any of this. She had learned that God, if he was even real, obviously had no care for her and Woody; God was never there, so why should she believe him.

But she had also never really believe that death was the end of everything. A person's life can't just stop, they must have an everlasting conscience that lives on. They can't just obliterate themselves within the matter it takes to end ones life. You'd sense the darkness; you'd sense that there is nothing left.

So maybe this really was death? Maybe this was why she lost consciousness before hand? Just so she can slip into death's grip at a moment of weakness.

But it was the voice she heard next that changed her mind.

'You can't fear the darkness. What is there in the dark to be afraid of?'

She gasped as she shook her head vigorously in a desperate attempt to rid the ominous voice from her head.

Wait? She shouldn't be moving...

After a few moments of slight panic, Jessie then slowly absorbed herself to the fact that she was no longer in that state anymore, but was instead actually in darkness herself.

At this moment, her phobia was getting in the way of the thoughts of the previous vision she had just witnessed. But, if her phobia hadn't been getting in the way at that point, she would have probably been in an even worse state; possibly to the extent where she would try to rip the yarn out from her plastic head out of pure anxiety and frustration.

Her fingers dug into the surface of the material as she tried to struggle into a sitting position, only to become dreadfully aware of the material. So she gasped as she shot up, banging her head on the ceiling in the process.

Just great, not only was she in the dark. But she was also in a tightly enclosed space.

No, no. This can't be happening.

She was unable to think straight, as the realization became dreadfully clear.

She was in a box, with styrofoam peanuts!

"No, no, no," Jessie gasped as she placed her hands against the ceiling, the peanuts below her filling up a great majority of the area. So she could only murmur. "Let me out."

After this, she then dug her hands against the box and, if she had been human, it would have been the equivalent to filing her fingernails.

"Let me out!" She yelled, suddenly becoming aware of that fact that she was the only think in this box. "Let me out!" She screamed, pounding her fists against the card board. She didn't care who could hear her; she didn't even care where the box was. She just wanted to be away from this nightmare.

However, her screams for help were not unheard as Stinky Pete shook his head, currently in his own box, that suspended from a display case

The horse, in the case next to his, whimpered at her yells, causing the Prospector to share a sorrowful glance with the noble steed.

Not only was Bullseye worried for Jessie, Pete was as well. He hated the fact that she was crying out for help, and the fact that he wasn't able to help only made him feel worse.

And this was all because of one backstabbing Sheriff who was trying to prevent the inevitable by trying to keep something, that was only set to drift away, close. Woody knew that he had no chance; he knew that his actions would have been set to cause torture to the rest of the gang, especially the Cowgirl he treat like an utter piece of trash. He walked out on her after it took everything for her to confide her fears and depressing past to him.

He had left, to be loyal to a kid that was surely to old for him by now. Pete wouldn't have been surprised if Andy threw the Sheriff away and could only smile at the thought.

Oh yes, he's sure to have gotten what he deserves by now...

"It'll be all right Bullseye," He tried to persuade, before a sudden wave of anger overwhelmed him. "I know he'll come back some day. And when he does..."

Pete wasn't only convinced that Woody would return some day; he knew.

It wouldn't be long before Woody realizes that everything his life led to was one huge mistake. And he'll realize that he can only depend on the Round-Up gang to continue his life and he'll just pleading and begging to come back.

Pete's smirk widened into a grin at this thought.

Oh yes, and when he comes back, Pete will make sure that he's not accepted back into the gang with open arms; quite the opposite actually.

The Sheriff will be lucky is Pete doesn't rip his threads out with his unused pick-axe when he returns.

Looking back to the cardboard box, of which sat in the corner on the room, of which was taped shut, he scowled as her cries continued to pierce through the room.

This was all because of Woody Pride.

And boy was he going to pay.

A/N So now Jessie is with Al, whilst Woody is currently in Andy's attic. But can any of them escape this nightmare?

Anyway, I'm really enjoying writing this story so far:) It's an interesting change from what I have wrote in the past. (Well, to me it is)

Feel free to send a review or a suggestion if you want!

xxxxxxxxxShannonxxxxxxxxx