Chapter 18: Mental Hospital Arrival
Stine pulled over at a building after another hour was up, getting out of the car. I took my seatbelt off, opened the door and stared at the building. Does seeing that place made me feel any better? That will be a no. A big no. Even seeing that sign that reads Mental Hospital makes me feel even worse.
Hey...maybe it won't be so bad. Just like Stine mentioned, I assured myself, getting out of the car, my eyes all wet from crying that I quickly dried them with my shirt. And once I did that, Stine handed me my duffle bag. I took it so I won't look like a stupid person...or in any other case...a crazy person.
"There's something in there for you that I hope it'll make you feel better," he told me after I took it, putting the strap on my right shoulder. "It's actually from Hannah," he informed me. "It's something that makes her feel better when she sad about something. Even when she has one of her bad days... so we both hope it helps."
"What is it?" I wanted to ask, but I decided to wait and see for myself. Possibly so I won't spoil what Hannah gave me. Instead I ask, "What else did you pack for me?"
"Just your clothes and books," Stine answered as we walked to the building. "I didn't pack anything so you won't...you know...hurt yourself with, because they take those things away. In fact, they go through everybody's stuff to see if they pack anything that is 'harmful'. Luckily, I put things that are not harmful objects. I didn't even pack up your scarf."
"Why?" He turned to me with an arched brow. "Oh... Now I know why," I understood, catching his look that looks like a hawk waiting for its prey. "Also, you don't have to give me those stern looks, Stine," I mentioned. "They...creep me out because Jeff does that to me before and after he...beats me."
"I didn't know that my stern looks freak you out. But tell me, how many times does Jeff hurt you?" he questioned.
"...Everyday. He'll hit me and leave my room without any words. There was this one time when I came home from school after the bus driver dropped me off, Travis stopped me from going into my room. I actually forgot that he comes home before me since he's a middle schooler and all that. He asked me where I was going, which is again, my bedroom. He then ask me if I want anything to eat since Jeff and Kelly won't be home until later. All I did was declined and went to my room after he purposely tripped me." I took a deep breath, not wanting to start sobbing. "So... I went to my room to just sleep and this is before I had trouble sleeping, and the next thing I knew, I got dragged out of bed and felt pain all around me. To me it felt like forever and once the stinging slaps are done, I saw Jeff...glaring at me through his framed glasses and his leather strap clenched in his right hand. And he did it a second round before leaving my room." I looked at the ground, watching my feet take steps closer to the building, my hair falling in front of me even if it stops at my shoulders. "While I just stayed on the floor, my dreaded god brother came to my bedroom door and just smirked at me, announcing me that getting that 'punishment' will teach me a lesson of 'breaking his window'."
"Wait a second," Stine interrupted, raising his hand for me to stop. "Are you telling me that he lied to his father about you breaking his window? And you're god dad believed him!?" I can tell that he was now in flames. "Did you try confronting him?"
I looked back at him with a sad look. "I did once..." I admitted. "Only he said that 'he doesn't need proof'," I quoted, recalling his words. I let out an exasperated sigh. "Travis is such an ass!" I cried. "Telling lies to both Kelly and Jeff. Mainly at Jeff, making sure my life is terrible as possible... and it worked!" I threw my duffle bag on the ground, kicking it aggressively, and began talking gibberish, my words not making any sense, even for me.
"Are you done?" Stine asked after my fit was finished.
I picked up my duffle bag, placing the strap back on my right shoulder. "Yes, I believe so." I took a deep breath and let it out. "I just don't understand why my god family hates me. I never did anything to them other than join the family..." The anger got mix with other emotions that I can barely talk right now anymore. "I...I just...wish...that this would never happen to me. It's my god family's fault and the kids at school...it's their own fault, too," I stuttered, my voice breaking the words. I looked over at Stine, seeing that he was looking at the ground, too. "Stine?"
"Yes?" he responded.
I saw moisture in his eyes. "You're crying," I pointed out, not shocked by this time.
"No, I'm not," he quickly denied. I narrowed my eyes at him in order to tell me the truth because one tear leaked out of his left eye. "Okay," he sighed with defeat. "You got me. I'm just upset and angry at what happened to you. You shouldn't feel this way... at all. What those people did to you wasn't right," he stated in a confirmed tone. "Travis shouldn't tell lies to his parents in order to get you..." He hesitated. "...hurt," he managed to say.
"Just like you didn't tell Hannah that she was a ghost," I suddenly brought up. "Oh...nevermind, she told me that she knew she was a ghost all along before you wrote her back to where she can now age," I then recalled back when I saw her glowing blue at the school, so that led me to a question. "Did Zach know that she was a ghost before she came back into existence?"
"Actually yes, but he thought that she didn't know. While you, Champ, and Hannah were looking for the typewriter, Zach confronted me, telling me that she doesn't know that she is not real, thinking that I lied to her. I never lied to her... I was trying to protect her. I didn't want anybody to know what she really is. That's the reason I don't let her outside. Even during the night time hours. That is, until she confessed to me at the store on what she does everynight after I go to bed." He paused for a second. "I told Zach that I felt lonely and after I created her...I felt a connection with her...and adopted her as my own daughter. I kept her out of her manuscript and never put her back in... Except, when I was out of control that one night during our argument..." He then ran his fingers through his hair as we stepped into the building, noticing a line of patients. "Let's wait until the line dies down," he advised towards me. He took me over to a black, leather couch that matched the color of his clothes. "I...actually still remember creating her with my typewriter..." he recalled. I looked at him, opening up my ears to listen. "It all happen back after I locked Slappy back in his manuscript after he went too far with his things... I wanted to create something that isn't a monster...or a villain...or an evil doll or dummy...not even evil ghosts...but a ghost that is very...friendly... It all started back in Columbus, Ohio. I was in my bed, feeling sorry and angry at myself
'Why?' I questioned out loud in my old room in my first house. 'Why do I make such horrible monsters, even Slappy, and lock them up in their manuscripts? I'm happy that they jump off the page, but too scared to let them free for a long time. I know I let Slappy stay out of his book until I had to put him back in after what he did to those bullies, going way too far of protecting me, even the pranks that are horrible to where they're aren't funny anymore. I need to create something that isn't a dangerous monster or villain. I could create another ghost...' I shook my head, thinking that my new idea won't work. 'No...no. I'll just end up making another evil ghost,' I empathize greatly.
That's when a light bulb spark up and I sat up quickly, the idea growing. 'Buuut~' I stretched out. 'What if this ghost isn't evil? What if this ghost was friendly and sweet? Someone who can stay out of his or her book forever.' I shook my head up and down, grabbing my notebook that I use to take notes when I come up with another story, picturing what my new creation would look like.
Looking at my notes, a grin formed on my face. 'Perfect.' I got up off my bed and went to my office where I write my books, seeing my typewriter on the middle of my desk. I sat down in my chair, placing my notebook to the side. 'Yes...' I chuckled, cracking my knuckles. 'Reader beware...' The smile grew wider. '...you're in for a scare. Hahaha!' I laughed and then I began to create my newest creation, knowing this one will be better than the last one I did.
I typed and I typed, not stopping whatsoever. I kept on going. I didn't stop. I won't ever stop until this story is just...right. Right for me, at least. I won't have to be alone anymore...I won't have to put my creation back in the new manuscript that I'm now writing...knowing that I won't feel angry and sorry for myself anymore.
Hours ticked by and before I knew it, I finished my latest book. Taking the last page off the typewriter, I placed it in the back with the other ones. I then tucked the pages in the empty manuscript, binding them together.
After minutes of checking for no crease marks or anything, the book passed its test. 'The Ghost Next Door,' I wrote, scrawling the words on the front cover and on the side with a black pen. I set the pen back on my desk, closing the book, and locked the manuscript shut, keeping the key in place. I hope this works... 'Let's see how you turn out...Hannah,' I whispered even though I'm the only one in the room. I looked over at my bookcase full of my Goosebumps manuscript that I written over the years. 'You'll be much better than those...creeps,' I spoke to the book, wondering if my creation is listening. Then, with a quick motion, I unlocked the book, having it fly out of my hands, landing on the floor. The book opened, the pages turning, and wind and lightning came, the ink forming a tornado along with a glowing blue color as it formed into the creation that I wrote.
When the wind and lightning died down, my jaw dropped open when I saw...her. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But no, she stood right in front of me. The long dark hair...the blue eyes...and the clothes that I pictured her wearing.
She stared back at me, not blinking. Is she afraid? Does she know who I am? I have to find out. I took a step forward and spoke. 'Hey there.' She didn't say anything back, so I decided to continue, walking towards her in a cautious manner. 'You know that you're Hannah... right?' Silence came between us. I came closer and she took a step back from me. No big surprise there since some of my creations will feel a bit...anxious around me the first time around. 'Hannah?' I talked softly. 'Hello,' I greeted. 'Do you know who I am?' She didn't answer...just...staring at me, standing there in the room, the book laying on the floor right in front of her. Then she spoke, breaking the eerie silence.
'...Dad?' Right after she said that, I smiled. I then bent down, ready to grab her manuscript when she snached it away from me. 'No!' I almost jumped back when she shouted at me. 'You're not putting me back in! Not with the Shadow Figure,' she claimed.
'Shadow Figure?' At first I didn't know what she was talking about. 'Ohh. The Shadow Figure.' Now I know what she is talking about. Why did I forget that guy already? I guess it's because the Shadow Figure wasn't mention much in the new book that I had just finished writing. 'I won't put you back in, sweetheart,' I assured her.
'Promise?' she replied uneasily, gripping her book in her hands.
'Yes,' I promised. 'Give me the manuscript.' I held out my hand and gave it to me her book. 'So...' I went over to the bookcase, placing her book between Night Of The Living Dummy and My Best Friend Is Invisible. '...what do you want to do first?' I asked, not asking if she can scare my bullies since she's much different than the other monsters I previously made.
'Explore the house?' she answered, sounding like a question. 'And maybe...go outside and meet some new friends...?' She grinned a sheepish smile.
'Sorry, Hannah, you may not go outside...' The hope vanished off her face, turning into a frown. 'But-' I continued. '-you can explore the house. You can even tell me which room that you want to be your new bedroom.'
Hannah thought about my offer and I can tell she was disappointed that she isn't aloud outdoors. 'Fine... I'll stay indoors. Even though I know what I am...' she said, then saw the bookcase and went over to it. 'What are these? Books?' She pulled one out off the shelf. 'A Night In Terror Tower,' she read. She looked at me. 'Why is this book locked, dad?' She looked around before I could answer her, and she grabbed the key off the desk.
'No!' In a quick reaction, I snached both the key and the book out of her hands, preventing her from unlocking the book. 'All these manuscripts must be kept locked. If you unlock them...the monsters would leap off the page and wreak havoc,' I spoke in uneasy tone. I put the book back and set the key on the desk. 'Now go on and explore the house.' I practically had to shoo her out the study room. She still had that shocked look on her face when I took the items away from her, but shrugged and went on exploring the house.
Walking out the study room, I walked down the hallway to see Hannah in an empty room, going over to the window, the moonlight making her skin glow blue. Luckily, all my neighbors, including those bullies, are asleep at this hour, so no one knows that she's...a ghost. Actually, no one knows that I have a daughter now...even if she's just a creation.
'Do you want this room to be your bedroom?' I cut off the silence. She turned to me and smiled.
'Sure. And tomorrow can I start school?' she replied with a hopeful grin, the moon still making her glow that color blue, causing her voice to sound...ghostly. Not in a frightening way like most of my ghost creations would sound like when they talk. 'Can I, dad? I can meet-'
'No, Hannah,' I forbid her. 'You may not go to school.'
'Dad, it'll be daylight so no will know that I'm...' She trailed her voice off when I gave her a strictly raise brows. 'Fine...' She hung her head. She walked out of the room, stepping out of the moonlight, her skin going back to that normal color. 'I'm going to grab something to eat,' Hannah told me, her voice going back to normal.
'Do you want me to make you dinner?' I offered.
She thought about it. 'Sure,' she answered. 'How about spaghetti?' she requested.
'Alright,' I smiled. I watched her leave the room, hearing her go down the stairs to the kitchen. I checked the room, seeing how perfect it is to be her new bedroom. 'I just need to buy her a bed and everything else that she needs. Including clothes.' My smile grew wider at the idea, and I then descended down the stairs to the kitchen to see my daughter that I took her in seconds ago after releasing her out of her manuscript, taking out uncooked spaghetti noodles out the cabinet that is in a box that hasn't been opened yet. Then she looked to see me standing there.
'Just getting the stuff ready,' she explained before I can even ask. She set the box of spaghetti on the counter and went over to the fridge, opening it. She then sighed. 'There's no tomato sauce,' she announced. 'Oh well,' she shrugged off.
'I know how to make sauce,' I spoke.
'Great, and I'll cut up the tomatoes.' She took out some tomatoes out of the fridge, setting them on the counter. She then got the cutting board out from a different cabinet. After, she took out one of the knives from the silverware draw.
Just as she was about to start slicing the first tomato, I took the sharp silverware out of her hand. 'I'll do that as well, you go on ahead and keep looking around inside the house,' I offered.
'Dad, I know how to cut up food. You don't have to worry.' She went to take the knife out of my hand, but I pulled it out of her reach. 'Come on, dad,' Hannah insisted. 'I'm sixteen years old and you are already treating me like a child.'
'You are child,' I said, placing the sharp object on the counter, placing my hand on it.
'A sixteen year old is a teenager,' she corrected.
'To me you're a child,' I grinned, keeping my hand on the object. 'Go on,' I shooed, waving my free hand. 'Go explore your new home,' I encouraged. 'I'll let you know when dinner is ready.'
'Okay.' Hannah walked out of the kitchen, then stopped to look at me. 'Dad, can I please go to school?' she begged. 'In the book I was in, I didn't go to school, so maybe-'
'Hannah, I said no,' I redeemed, pausing what I was doing. 'I will not allow you to go to school.'
'Why not?' she questioned, getting a bit angry.
I looked down, the memories of when I was in school flooding back to me. Even the ones back in high school. 'You don't want to go to school,' I whispered, loud enough for her to hear. 'And I don't want you going there, either... You cannot go outside like I stated earlier since there's awful people out there.' I looked at her with a strict brow. 'You'll understand.'
She let out a heavy breath. 'Alright...' Then she walked out of the kitchen, and I heard her walking up the stairs to another room to look at.
Please don't unlock one of my manuscripts, I prayed silently as I continued slicing the tomatoes. Whatever you do, don't-
A loud crash came from upstairs, cutting my prayer off. I almost cut myself with the knife, dropping it on the floor when I heard a shrill scream. And just like all fathers do, my protection instincts kicked into overdrive as I bolted out of the kitchen and up the stairs, yelling at the top of my lungs. 'Hannah! Hannah!' I kept on yelling until I got the study room and stopped to see a broken lamp and one of the manuscripts unlocked, seeing a tornado forming just like it always does with all the books when they're unlocked. And while the ink is forming a monster, my eyes switched to see her on the floor, right next to the broken lamp. 'Hannah!' Quickly, I rushed over to her to see if she was okay. Only I didn't have time to do that when I heard a voice spoke. And it wasn't Slappy...
'Hello, dad.' Slowly I turned to see a twelve year old boy, tall and thin with short brown hair, wearing a black-sleeved baseball shirt, and grey cargo shorts and sneakers. Then saw an eleven year old girl who has short brown hair, with a violet headband on top of her head, a sleeveless pink T-shirt, dark purple cropped trousers and purple shoes. The twelve year old boy and the eleven year old girl both have hazel eyes and their skin color is Caucasian. Adding that, there stood a third kid, much younger at the age of five with large ears that poke out of light blonde hair, his eye color being blue. He wore a red and yellow striped shirt and black shorts, as well as blue sneakers. All three of them have freckles on their noses. The first boy spoke again. 'Hello, dad,' he greeted in repeat, grinning an evil grin. 'It's nice to see you...' His eyes glazed over at my new creation. 'Thanks for letting us out... Hannah,' he thanked.
'How...?' She sat up. 'How do you know my name?'
'Oh, please.' The short brown hair girl rolled her eyes, doing a smirk. 'Just because we're trapped in a book doesn't mean we can't hear you. We heard our dad talking to you,' the girl informed.
'Yeah,' the younger boy giggled. 'Thanks for freeing us,' he repeated the older boy's words. 'Our dad always kept us locked in our manuscript because he won't let us stay out for long.'
'That's right...' The older boy crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. 'Our dad locked us up because we're too dangerous to be set free forever. And thanks to you, we can scare the living crap out of people as long as we want. Hahaha!' He let out a laugh. 'Come and join us, Hannah,' he invited.
'She's not joining with you!' I stepped in front of them, blocking their view from Hannah. 'My daughter is nothing like any of you ghosts,' I stated boldly. 'You Sadler ghosts are no good for her.'
'That's too bad, dad,' the first ghost kid spoke in a snarky manner. 'And you're also a horrible dad, too,' he added. He looked back at Hannah, who is still behind me. 'I don't see how you're special. He basically treats all of us like bad people.'
'That's because you are bad people, Sam,' I argued. 'Even Louisa and Nat don't have any good in them.'
'Hey!' Sam exclaimed. 'We helped you scare those jerks that picked on you. But how did you repay us? By locking us up in our manuscript!' he screamed.
'You three are too dangerous!' I proclaimed. 'And Hannah is special because she's different then you demons,' I defended. 'I wrote her where she isn't evil. And you don't call me dad, only Hannah is allowed to call me that.'
'Really?' Louisa gave me evil slits of her eyes. 'You don't want us to call you dad, then too bad for you!' she declared.
'Yeah,' Nat added, his eyes sending daggers at me. 'We're your children, too!'
'Well, you're not!' I protested.
'Too bad,' Sam argued. 'And we're not going back in our manuscript!' His eyes burned angrily at Hannah, and he stomped over to her. 'None of us don't see why you can be free forever!' he raged. 'Why can't you be evil as us?' he questioned. 'No ghost is ever-'
'Leave her alone!' I roared, shoving him away from my daughter. 'She's nothing like you!' I claimed out loud. I went over and picked up the manuscript off the floor. 'You three shouldn't be out of your book, even if Hannah had released you!' I opened the book and Louisa and Nat got sucked in after they failed not to. But Sam wouldn't let go of the table, only his fingers started to slip off of it.
'We will be released again someday!' he cried out in anger, which are his final words...for now as he got sucked into the book. I shut it and quickly locked it with the key.
'Dad, I'm sorry... I just-'
'Now you see why the books have to be kept locked?' I gave her a disappointed look, interrupting her apology.
'I said that I am sorry,' she repeated. 'I was just curious, that's all...' She turned towards the floor, staring at the broken lamp. 'I just...wanted to know why they're locked. And before that happened, I heard...talking within the bookcase and pulled out one of your manuscripts, and they kept saying to let them out. So...being the good and friendly ghost that I am...I...well...unlocked it. I'm also sorry that I screamed like that. I didn't expect a strong gust of wind to come out of that book.' She forced her eyes away from the broken lamp. 'Are you...going to trap me back in my manuscript...for something I shouldn't have done...even after you told me not to open up any of the manuscripts?' she sentenced out very hesitant.
I sighed. 'No, Hannah. I won't.' I put the book back on the bookcase. 'Just don't do again, alright?' I advised.
'Alright,' she agreed, getting up off the floor. 'When will dinner be ready?'
'In about twenty minutes,' I simply answered before I walked out of the study room, going down the stairs to the kitchen to finish cooking the food.
About twenty minutes later, I called her to the dining room. 'Hannah!'
'Coming,' she called back. I heard her come into the dining room. 'Wow, dad, this looks great,' she praised, sitting down at one of the chairs.
'Thank you.' I sat down and while we ate, I cleared my throat. 'Since I won't let you go to real school, how about I homeschool you?' I offered.
'Do you have textbooks from school?' she asked.
'Not that kind of homeschool,' I informed. Hannah gave me a confused look, so I explained it to her. 'I did a lot of thinking to homeschool you, so...how about I teach you about the monsters that I've created before you came around?'
'Um...that's not really homeschooling, dad,' she told me.
'You want to know why those books have to be locked, right?' I required with a raised brow.
She did a lot of thinking, then sighed. 'Okay... if you want to homeschool me that way, that's fine with me...'
"So over the first years of having her around, I homeschooled her about the monsters, got her new bedroom set up, and even made sure she doesn't go outside when I'm with her or just out doing my errands," Stine completed his story. He noticed a baffled look on my face. "Is there a part of my story on how I created Hannah that you're confused at? Because I don't mind retelling it to you."
"No..." I spoke. "I'm just..." I rubbed the back of my neck. "You were that protective around her that you won't let her cut up a simple fruit?" I asked.
"I thought a tomato is a vegetable," he clarified.
"It's a fruit," I told him. I then looked over my right, seeing a snack machine. "Do you have a dollar I can borrow? I want to have a snack."
"Sure." He took out his wallet. "Here you go." He handed me a dollar bill.
Getting up from the couch, I walked over to the vending machine when I got bumped into somebody, landing on the floor. "Hey! Watch where you are-" I stopped my protest to see a boy about my age with very dark brown hair and silver eyes, wearing a red T-shirt and khaki pants, and running shoes. "...going..." My face turned red. Not from anger, and not from embarrassment. From...something else that I never felt before. And just before I can ask myself why and before I can answer, he spoke.
"Oh my, God. Are you alright? I didn't mean to bump into you," the kid apologized, going to my level that I was at since I'm on the floor. "I guess I wasn't paying any attention..." He trailed off once he got close enough to my level. "Whoa..." he breathed. "You look pretty," he smiled.
"I-I-I am?" I replied, stuttering. "No... no I'm not," I denied his comment. However, my face was still warm and it wouldn't go away. "No boy has ever called me 'pretty'."
"To me you are," he replied with that cute smile of his. "Let me help you up," he requested, holding out his hand.
Even though I don't like physical contact, for some reason I took his hand and didn't flinched as he helped me off the floor.
"So...why are you here?" he asked once I stood on my feet.
"Suicidal watch," I answered. "I'm bipolar and schizophrenic," I explained, my face still feeling really warm. "What about you? Why are you here?" I asked next.
"Depression," he shrugged, not losing his smile.
"You don't look depressed..."
He chuckled. "Just because I'm smiling doesn't mean I don't have it anymore. It's all controlled by the medication I take when I first got here because the last ones I took didn't work for me."
"Same with me. They never work and I kept having stupid side effects. Plus, I used to be diagnosed with clinical depression until I started having mood swings and everything else. I also have a fear of being...touched." Of course, my face is still red.
"Really?" he responded. "If you didn't like being touched, why did you let me help you off the floor?"
I shrugged. "I don't know…" I mumbled, now thinking that I'm a complete idiot. "I... I just… I'm not sure why I touched you," I tried to explain. I sighed. "Nevermind," I gave up, and changed the subject. "What's your name?"
"Jackson Smith. What about you?" He kept on smiling at me. "Are you new here? I don't think I ever saw you in this building before."
"Yes, I'm new. And my name is Hazel Monroe," I introduced back.
"That's a pretty name. Matches with you really well," Jackson pointed out. Then he looked over my shoulder. "Is that..." He paused. "Is that Mr. Shivers?" he questioned.
"Huh?" Confused, I look behind me then back at Jackson. "No, no. That's Stine," I answered. "He did went as Shivers when I first met him when I asked if he had any chores that I can do so I can earn money," I explained. "You see, I used to live by myself because my god parents would be so cruel towards me, along with my god brother. And then Stine's daughter asked if I can live with them and I said yes."
"Oh... Wait. You mean the Stine?" His face filled with shock. "The one man who wrote all those Goosebumps books? I live across from his street just two houses down," he claimed. "I didn't know he was R.L. Stine, because he told me his name was Shivers until you corrected me. Such a strange dude, too."
"Hey, don't call him strange," I defended. "I thought he was cruel when I heard his daughter screaming bloody murder, and one of my friends thought he was psychopath. So me, him, and his best friend went to see if she was okay. Turns out she was fine, and Champ, one of my new friends, saw these manuscripts, and Zach, my other friend, unlocked one, and well... things got really bad during that one night..." I stopped rambling. "If I told you what happened, you wouldn't believe me."
"Try me," he challenged in a joking manner.
"Alright, here I go..." Then I told him, hoping he won't laugh at me, thinking I made this up. "Stine's evil creation, Slappy, got out of his manuscript and let the monsters to destroy Madison and Stine. He even had two of his friends take me to him and- Oh, forget it. I can see why you don't believe me." I was expecting him to laugh at me, only he didn't. "You're not laughing at me..." I realized.
"Why would I be laughing at you?" he grinned. "They showed that on the news channel, and I was the one who watched it. I tried telling everyone else but they thought I was telling a great story." He chuckled. "Plus, Slappy is that evil dummy, right?"
"Yes, and he doesn't like being called that," I informed with a frown, but still surprised that the monster invasion was on the news channel. "And Slappy calls Stine 'papa', and Stine believed he calls him that because he created him with a special typewriter, just like he did with his other creations, including Hannah-"
"Wait," he cut me off. "Hannah? Shivers- I mean, Stine's daughter? She's a creation, too?"
"Well, she told me she knew and was a ghost before Stine brought her back... So yeah," I answered, twiddling my thumbs.
"Wow...just wow," he expressed. "You know, I always liked her," he explained. "It was before I came here and met you, so..."
"Sorry, she's already taken," I told him.
He smiled. "That's cool with me. Besides..." He winked. "...I'm starting to like someone else now."
"Wait... what?" I said.
Before he could reply, someone called him. He looked back to see someone waving him over, holding a clipboard. "Heh, sorry. That's my therapist. Guess I'll see you later?"
"Yeah..." I blushed. "We'll see each other later."
"Awesome. Bye." He waved and walked off as I kept standing there.
A minute past by and I just stood there, not moving a single muscle. "Okay, then..." was all I could come up with. Then I went over to Stine, handing his dollar back to him. "Here," I said. "I don't want to get a snack anymore."
"Alright." He took his dollar back, putting it back in his wallet, and noticed something. "Why is your face red? Is the vending machine not working?"
"It's not that, I just...bumped into this kid," I explained, feeling my face going back to its normal color. "It looks like the line is down," I pointed, sitting back down on the couch.
Stine nodded back in reply and got up from the couch, walking over to the counter and began talking to the guy on the other side of the glass, while I just sat there, my mind thinking about that one kid.
Jackson... Even thinking about him makes my face glow pink. Hmm... why is that? Do I...like him? Also, why did he said that I was...pretty? Like I told him, no boy has ever called me that. Was he being honest with me? Or was he just saying that to make him look...good about himself?
The more I tried to come up with my own answers, my face kept getting warmer by each second. The only answer I can come up is...
"Hazel." Snapping out of my thoughts, I heard my name being called, seeing a middle age lady. She smiled at me, gesturing her hand to go with her. With a sigh, I picked up my duffel bag, going over to her.
"Bye, Hazel," Stine waved, walking towards the door. "I'll pick you up once you get better," he promised.
I didn't say anything back, I just waved bye as well and followed the nice lady.
"So...you're Hazel, right?" she spoke.
"You did got my name right, so that answers the question," I responded. I transferred my duffle bag to my other hand. "So...what do new patients do when they first arrive here?" I asked, looking at all the pictures of everybody...smiling.
"Well, we just bring them to their rooms and let them settle in before they do anything else," she answered, explaining it to me.
"Is this like an insane asylum?" I questioned next.
"What? No," she replied. "Why would you think that?"
I shrugged. "...it just came to me..." I looked over at her. "My therapist told me there'll be other people my age with the same problems. Is that true?" I inquired.
"Actually, you'll meet a lot of people with the same problems that you have," she smiled. "Oh, I totally forgot to tell you my name. How rude am I! I'm Rosy," she introduced.
"That's a...nice name," I complimented.
"Thank you," Rosy expressed with a great attitude. "And here's your room," she gestured. I stepped into one of the rooms, seeing two beds at each end of the room, two dressers, and one lamp. The lamp isn't turned on since sunlight is filling up the room. "Also, I do need to check your bag in case you have something in there that is...harmful," she told me.
"But..." I gripped my duffel bag. "...Stine packed my things for me... There's nothing 'harmful' in here. Not even a scarf," I included. However, Rosy changed her attitude towards me. Instead of that smile, she gave me a serious look. "Really," I insisted. "There's nothing- Oh, fine! Here!" I slammed my duffel bag on the floor, my mood switching towards anger. Not only that, I felt violated, even though Stine didn't pack anything that I can use to harm myself with.
"Here you go." She handed my duffel bag. "You're bag is all clear," she reported.
That's what I was trying to tell you. That's what I wanted to reply, but instead I said, "Okay."
"Do you want me to bring you anything to eat?" Rosy offered.
I thought about it. "...I don't care what you bring me... I didn't eat much. I did have some McDonald's food since it took hours to get here."
"What part of Delaware to you live at, dear?" she asked.
"Madison..." I almost mumbled, going over to the bed that is on the left, staring at the other one. "Do I have a roommate?"
"Yes, and he'll be back here in a few minutes," she told me. "You might like him, he's a very nice fellow." She went over to the door, stopped, and turned to me. "Do you like chocolate chip pancakes?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "I might not eat all of it..."
"That's okay, as long as you're eating," she understood. Then she walked out of the room.
While I waited, I went over to the window. Maybe looking at the nice sunlight would help... And just as I got close enough, it started pouring down rain, pattering on the glass. I grunted and kicked the wall.
"Dammit!" I cried. "Stupid weather...always ruins my days!" I blamed, kicking the wall again. "Ow!" I hopped on one foot, going towards the bed that I was at. Once the pain was gone, I opened up my duffel bag, pulling out my clothes to put them in my dresser drawer. Not only that, I felt something soft and pulled it out. My eyes widen when I realize it was brown teddy bear. I looked into my duffel bag again, and saw piece of paper folded in half.
With a curious look, I took it out and unfolded it, turning out to be a letter.
Since dad doesn't know how long you'll be in the Mental Hospital, I decided to let you borrow my teddy bear for comfort while you are there. I got it during my second sweet sixteenth birthday, because I was actually still a ghost before dad rewrote me back in existence, and I always cuddle with it when I'm feeling down, so… maybe it'll help give you hope...and maybe...to get you to smile this time
From, Hannah.
Setting the note aside, I put my clothes away in the drawers, and put my duffel bag underneath my bed so I know where it is after I put some of the Goosebumps books next to it so I know where they are at, then laid down on the bed...
While I laid on the bed, the stuff bear in my arms, I began thinking. Hannah... I don't think your stuff toy will help, but... I sighed. I'll try my best to smile this time, I finished my thought. And...I'm not sure if stronger medication would help, either.
Turning onto my side, I faced the wall, gripping the bear in my hands. I feel like I'll be here...forever.
So I decided to close my eyes and try to think of happy thoughts...hoping that'll make me feel better.
Hannah
I sat in my room, hoping that Hazel will get better soon. And since it takes about two days for my dad to drop off Hazel at that special place, it took him hours on the second day, yes it's still the second day, for him to get here. And by the time he got home, it was getting late.
I heard the door open and close, and walked out of my room, going towards the stairs. "So?" I spoke, getting his attention. "How long will Hazel have to be in the mental hospital?" I asked, making my way down the steps.
Dad ran his fingers, brushing his hair like he always does. "It depends on when she gets better," he informed me. "Her therapist explained that some people get better faster than others. So...it might take some time." He walked over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter by the time I got to him. "You know, I was telling Hazel about how I created you before you weren't a ghost anymore." He let out a chuckle. "Remember when you first time you saw me?"
"Yeah..." I answered, recalling the event back in Columbus, Ohio. "I was a bit nervous around you..." I remembered. "And when I said 'dad' to you, you went to pick up my book, and I thought you were going to put me back in... with the Shadow Figure." I looked at the floor. "Did you tell her about when you wrote me back...?"
"...yes..." Dad replied with a shake of his head. "But I didn't want to tell her everything, that way I won't upset her on what happened to you in that book I had to write to catch all the monsters," he explained.
"Yeah..." I nodded, remembering what happened in the manuscript that I was in with all the monsters, including that wooden gremlin. I sighed. "Can I got over to Zach's place?"
"It's late, Hannah," he told me gently. "Everyone's asleep at this hour. It's like...eleven p.m. at night." He squinted his eyes at me. "Have you've been up all night?" he asked me.
"I couldn't sleep because I keep worrying about Hazel," I explained to him. "When I saw the scars on her arms...and told you what I believed she was doing...it scared me. I hope my stuff bear helps make her feel better," I wished. "Since that stuffed toy help make me feel better when I'm down...I bet it'll work on her." I then thought of something else. "Oh, by the way, why did it took you two days to get to that place and to get back home?"
Dad took off his glasses, holding them in his hand, rubbing his temples. "That place I had to take her is not in Madison," he said. "That's why it took me hours to get from there to get back here. What? Were you worried about me?"
I shook my head. "No. No, I wasn't. I just wanted to know, that's all." I leaned against the doorframe with my arms crossed. "Is Hazel mad at me for telling on her on what I saw? Because I think she is..." I looked up to see dad put on his glasses and walked up to me, placing his hand on my shoulder.
"What you did that day was a good idea. By telling me what you saw. And..." His hand slipped off my shoulder, dropping to his side. "...if you hadn't, she...well... let's just say she won't be around anymore."
I nodded in reply. "I'm going to bed..." I said, feeling tired. "I'm going to so tired at school tomorrow," I yawned.
"You can have coffee..." He trailed off when he saw the look on my face. "What? You don't like coffee?" he questioned.
"I never had coffee, dad," I told him. "You never allow me to have any. Even when I ask you if I can make a cup of my own."
"Well..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You can have some tomorrow to perk you up more since you stayed up waiting for me because I'm not going to let you sleep in and miss school, young lady."
I chuckled. "I know. And to be honest, it's kinda weird to have parent as a teacher at the school that I go to now," I remarked.
"Hey!" He raised his hands in playful defense. "Ms. Cooper is the vice principal at that same high school," he proclaimed. "Besides...have you've been seeing your boyfriend around in school lately?"
"Only at lunch and in the halls. We don't have classes together, except for one. And that's the study room. Only the school has a strict policy of 'public display of affection'. So... me and Zach had to imply with that rule until school is let out." I smiled, remembering when me and him got reunited. "I'm heading to bed," I waved. "Goodnight, dad."
"Night, sweetie," Dad returned back.
Stine
I watched as my daughter went up to her room for the night, waving to her after I returned a 'goodnight'. Then after standing there for at least two minutes, I went over to the dining room and sat down at the table. I placed my hand on my forehead, wondering when Hazel can come home, missing her already... just like how I am with... Slappy.
The more I think about Hazel, the more I think about the guilt that I did to my most famous creation ever... I know it's not easy to understand, but... I miss that guy, remembering the exact words he said to me at that creepy Funhouse... not noticing Hazel with us.
I can even hear his words in my head that won't go away, him telling me how I locked him up in his manuscript way before I lived in Chicago and way before me and my daughter lived in Madison, Delaware.
"I was your best friend, and you turn your back on me..." his voice echoed, sounding very betrayed, angry...and possibly... hurt... inside my head. "...locked me up, imprisoned me in a pages of a...book... You put me on a shelf...for years and years...the key was right there..." I can almost see his face inside my mind, showing how upset he was with me, reminding the day when the even actually happened... "And you never used it..." his voice hissed, still in my head.
I'm wondering what's happening inside that new manuscript, I thought to myself, standing back up and going upstairs to my study and, to my surprise, I heard lots of growls and any other noises that my monsters make. However, as I got closer... I heard a very distinct voice in that new manuscript. But the only problem is that I can't make out the words, at all. And I know they belong to Slappy.
Looking behind me, I made sure that Hannah is still in bed. Then very slowly, I took the manuscript off the bookcase. The growls and all the other noises came to a halt, like I pause a movie of some sort. Even the voice of Slappy.
"Hello?" I called into the locked manuscript, my voice hesitant. There was no answer. I tapped on the book. "Hello?" Again, no answer. "Slappy, I know you can hear me!" I raised my voice. "I heard you and all those monsters in there, and you can also hear me, too!" I stopped, but received no answer. "Slappy, I'm not playing games with you! Answer me right now," I demanded.
There was no noise... That's weird. And just as I was about to do it again, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around to see Hannah with a baffled look on her face and half asleep.
"Why are you yelling at the book...?" she questioned with a yawn.
"Uh..." I put the book back on the bookcase. "I just...wanted to know what's going on in there..." I was hoping she'll buy it, and it would've happened if she was still half asleep. Instead her eyes widen with shock. "What?" I asked, catching her reaction.
"You're not going to release the monsters, are you?" Hannah questioned rather loudly.
"No," I replied. "No, no, no. I...I'm not, but..." I let out a sigh. "Go back to bed, Hannah," I told her, gesturing my hand.
She stared at me and then shrugged her shoulders. "...Alright." After looking at me a few seconds more, she went back to her room.
As I stood there, I took the manuscript off the shelf again just...staring at it. And this time, I lowered my voice so I won't end up waking Hannah up, which wasn't the first time that happened.
"Slappy?" I whispered softly, but loud enough for him to hear me. "Slappy, can you-"
Loud growls, roars, and noises came through the manuscript that I almost dropped it on the floor.
And through the loud sounds, a voice got mixed into it. A voice that belonged to Slappy... I put the book against my ear, flinching at the other noises just to make out his words.
"Let...me...out..." is what I believe I heard from his raspy voice. "Let...me...out," he repeated, sounding desperate.
What should I do? I asked myself. I know I told Hazel how much I miss him, but... she doesn't want me to release him. Even when I want to apologize for what I did to him years ago.
With a sigh, I told myself I'm going to end up regretting this. Slowly, I grabbed the key off my desk. "Slappy..." I spoke, my insides shaking like crazy. "I'm...I'm going to let you out. Don't let the others follow you," I instructed.
Placing the book on the floor, I put the key in the lock, placing my hand to make sure the manuscript doesn't fully open, and hoping that Hannah would not wake up this time.
Then with a deep breath... I unlocked the book.
Hazel
"Who are you?" I cried out, as I stared at this person that looked very familiar by the last two dreams I had of him. Yes, you might guess, I'm dreaming again about this person... and it kept getting... creepy. "You...You were going to tell me in the last dream, so tell me now!"
"Why did you do it?" My eyes widen when he asked me the same question a third time. "Why did you run away like that?" he smirked. "How come you ran away from home...?" His smirk widened. "Why...?"
"Tell me your name," I pleaded, my eyes filling up with tears.
"Don't you recognize me...?" I flinched when he lifted my chin up so he can force me to look at his dark appearance. He chuckled. "You're so dumb and stupid, Hazel..." he grinned. "But I will give you one hint..." He leaned towards me. "Hello, god sister..."
I woke up with a start. On my face, I felt tears on my cheeks. Crap! I just cried in my sleep again. I looked over to the other bed, seeing someone under the covers, hoping that this person didn't hear me in case I mumbled in my sleep.
For some reason, I couldn't help but to start sniffling, hoping that this person at the other end of the room is a heavy sleeper as I laid back down, grabbing the stuff bear, putting my face on it to muffle out my sobs so they won't get to loud.
At least it happened before I ate... And yes, I did ate what Rosy brought me. And my therapy session won't start until tomorrow, so I guess she let me sleep in.
"Are you alright?" I jumped when I heard a familiar voice that I recognized. Turning my head around, I saw someone standing at the side of my bed. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Wanting to make sure it wasn't a complete stranger, I switched the lamp on, and my face turned bright red when I saw who it was.
"Is your face going to end up doing that every time you see me?" Jackson joked, thinking that it'll make me feel better.
"I didn't know you were my roommate," I answered honestly. "I thought you were still asleep..."
"I was...until I heard you crying..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You were asleep all day long, too," he told me. "I was glad to have a new roommate," he smiled. "My last one was complete maniac. Heh." He then looked at me with his silver eyes. "Why were you crying?" he asked.
"...I was having a dream," I replied.
"Really?" he said. "What was it about?" he inquired.
I didn't answer right away, because I wasn't sure if he'll think I was crazy. But I did it anyway. "It someone that I know..." I looked down. "I just...don't want to give you any details... because it wasn't the first time I had it," I explained.
"I see..." he nodded. "You want to sleep with me?"
"Why...?" I gave him a suspicious look. "Jackson, I don't think we're aloud to share beds," I told him.
"I don't think so, either but...there are tear stains all over your bed sheet along with your pillow," he said, pointing at my bed. He smiled. "Come on," he encouraged. "I'll explain to whoever comes in this room the next morning," he promised.
Thinking this wasn't a good idea, I replied. "...sure." I can't believe I'm sleeping with a cute boy... right on his bed with him! So I grabbed the teddy bear, getting up from my bed, turning the lamp off. Luckily, it wasn't that dark in the room all thanks to the moonlight streaming through the window. I watched him go back and lay on his bed, patting the mattress with his hand. I walked carefully towards him, and stopped right away, having second thoughts. "Uh...um..." I stammered. "Actually... never...never mind," I declined, feeling my paranoia going into me.
"Hazel... I'm not going to do anything to-"
"Yes, you are!" I cried out. "Don't lie to me!"
"Shh!" Jackson shushed.
"Sorry," I whispered. "But...I rather not...sleep with you..." I merely mumbled out. "Besides, I rather just go back to sleep in my own bed..." I went to walk back to my bed, when I felt him grab my hand, pulling me to his bed. I didn't struggle. I just...let him.
"Hazel... I don't want you to be up the rest of the night." He sat down on the mattress with me next to him. "Besides, I'm not like those other guys that lie to a lot of girls. My parents taught me to be a gentleman. My dad even said 'Jackson, whenever you get a girlfriend, treat her like a lady'." He shrugged. "Of course, my dad is in the military so I don't see him that much, and my mom is waiting for me to come back home since I drove myself here to this...place."
I raised my eyebrows. "You...you drove yourself here?" I responded. "How old are you?" I asked him.
"Almost seventeen," he shrugged.
"You're...almost seventeen?" I gave him a surprised look. "I thought you were sixteen." I pointed at myself. "Like me," I stated.
"I am sixteen," he explained. "I'll be turning seventeen in three weeks, and I'm hoping my birthday will be at home and not...here."
"Oh, now I understand... But just to let you know...it takes me awhile to get back to sleep," I told him.
"I know a trick that'll help you," he winked.
I looked at him. "What?" I watched as he pulled out what looks to be some kind of flute.
"I'm part Cherokee," he said, explaining to me before I could even ask. "This flute was passed down through my mom's side of the family. And don't worry, I know how to play this and everybody else knows in this building."
I nodded. "Okay..." I let out slowly. "Only...how is that gonna help me get back to sleep?" I questioned.
"Lay down and listen." He then started to play, blowing into it.
As I laid there on his bed, listening to him play that...interesting instrument, the melody floated into my ears. And I have to admit, he's really good at playing it. Not only that, but the tune sounded like... a lullaby, making my eyelids feel heavy by each second that I manage to get back to sleep...
Stine
I stopped right away, now beginning to have second thoughts about this but... I have to talk to him... I need to just...talk to him and tell him how...sorry I am for what I did to him.
I began to get a bit lightheaded and didn't realize that I was holding my breath. So I let out, not wanting to pass out on the floor or anything. Then very slowly, I opened up the book only halfway, and was greeted by the strong wind, and almost cried out when I felt something grab my sleeve of my shirt.
Realizing it was a wooden hand that belonged to Slappy, I grabbed his arm and began to pull, only for him to be tugged back into the book.
"Let go of me, you demons!" I then heard him yell out a curse word, but it wasn't directly towards me. "Let go of me!" he screeched on top of his lungs. I tugged harder and saw that the other monsters were trying to follow as I saw werewolf claws, the vines, and blob tentacles grabbing onto him.
Slappy kicked and squirmed, trying to get free from them. He let out a painful scream, shocking me.
With a final tug, I ripped him out of the books and away from the monsters, forcing them to let go. I shut the book and locked it, the noise dying away after I flung him across the room, and sat down to catch my breath.
That's when I heard groaning and turning to see the dummy picking himself up off the floor, which looks like he was struggling to do so. Not only that, I saw scratch marks on his face, a chip mark on his lower lip. His suit was shredded, and there was a big tear in the back, showing the inner workings of what all ventriloquist dummies have to make them talk.
I went up to him, hearing the joints of his arms and legs, reaching towards him. "...Slappy?"
"Don't touch me..." he hissed, his brown eyes giving me a sharp look.
I jerked my hand away from him. "You're welcome," I replied sarcastically.
"I didn't say thank you," he returned rudely. "And why did you let me out?" he asked in his raspy voice.
"Because you told me to..." I answered slowly.
He scoffed. "I'm surprised that you-" He pointed at me. "-would even listen," he stated. "You know, it wasn't the first time you ignored me," he confirmed.
I raised a brow. "Huh?"
"Don't 'huh' me! You always ignored me all the time when you locked me up in my manuscript after you wrote me into existence! Ever since you let me out, you just...turned your back on me and left me to rot inside paper and leather! You-You didn't even flinched after you sucked me into my manuscript, and just put me on a shelf and just ignored me!" I flinched as he continued his rant. "You even said I was your favorite then all your other monsters that you made, but nooo you decided to put me back in my book after what I did to those bullies, even when I was only defending you because of what I saw. Now my 'friends' want of piece of me because they said I was being too slow. I guess breaking your fingers isn't enough to punish you, and I thought Blobby would finish you off, or I was just thinking about the good old days before you even before you forced me inside my book and all the other things that happened." Slappy's eyes brimmed with green tears, surprising me. "My stupid friends wanted to tear me apart because they said it was my fault!" he cried after he teleported and grabbed the book with his scratched up hand. At first I thought he was going to unlock it. But no, he threw it back on the floor, and kicked it across the room. "You can tell what they did to me! They attacked me!" he exclaimed.
"Just like you did to Hazel," I reminded him, getting him to shut up. "She told me what you did to her. You even bit her and left words on her."
"I don't care what I did to her!" Slappy argued, not caring at all. "She was trying to stop me, like the brat that she is! I warned her to give me back the key and she wouldn't listen! So I did the only thing I could think of, and that's what I did." He pointed at me. "I should've done the same thing to you when you told me what I did to those bullies was wrong!" he proclaimed. "But I didn't, because I'm just a mistake! A huge mistake!" With a final stomp, he fell on his side, curling into a ball and covered his face with his tattered up hands, and started sniffling. "I'm just...a mistake," he repeated in a cracked voice. "That's what you think of your own son. Not only you locked me up because of what I did to those bullies, but you also did it because my pranks went too far!" he sobbed, keeping his face hidden from me. "And after you trapped me inside my manuscript, you...you even replaced me."
It took me a second to understand what he meant by 'replacement', until I figured it out. Slappy thinks that I love Hannah better then him. I sat down and stared at the floor. "You're not a mistake," I told him.
"Don't lie to me, you jackass." He didn't uncover his face. "I know that you are lying to me, because you promised that you wouldn't turn your back on me, and you broke that damn promise!" he screamed, muffling it so it wouldn't be too loud. "You hate me. And now my friends hate me, too. They even blamed me after I tried to get rid of your daughter even it was their job to catch her after she escaped from me before I can murder her so she wouldn't ever see that Zach kid ever again who crammed us all into one book. Do you know how tight is it in there!? There had been times where there's open spaces because I keep jumping at one chapter to another to get away from them after I failed to get rid of your so-called daughter, but they keep on going after me. And once those vines grabbed ahold of me, they...they beat me every single day. In that book everything is like the real world, only with lots of differences in it. But then when I got free from them, I didn't pay attention when I jumped to the middle of the book, and they trapped me and beat me some more!" He sniffled and sobbed some more. "You hate me, I know you do... and I don't blame you for that because I...I hate you, as well."
It seemed like an hour that went by after what he told me. Yes, I knew what Hannah went through in that book after I wrote he back after what she told me what happened in there, but... I sighed. "Slappy, I don't hate you." He ignored me, not responding back because of his uncontrolled sniffling and sobbing. "Look at me, Slappy," I instructed. He slowly looked at me, and wiped his eyes as if he was crying. "Come here." I held out my arms.
He gave me an untrusting look. "How do you know I won't strangle you?"
"Because I trust you that you won't." I waited, not wanting to show any emotions or anything. I watched as he sat up from the floor, and carefully went on his knees, using them for support as he went towards me. Without any hesitation, he jumped into my arms, gripping my shirt.
"I really do hate you," he said in brutal honesty.
"I know..." I spoke. "But like I said, I don't hate you."
"...whatever." Slappy let go and stared at me. "Are you going to put me back in?" he asked, sounding very indifferent about it, referring to the book.
"I'll tell you what..." I ran my fingers through my hair. "I'll let you stay out of the book as long as you don't cause any trouble around this house. But-" I pointed a strict finger at him. "-you can let out your frustrations out on me whenever you want. Also, if you try anything to do to my daughter again from your last attempt in the book, you're going back in. Not only that, when Hazel gets back home, you're going to have to apologize to her." I looked down at the floor. "Even though she told me not to let you out of that new manuscript."
"Hold on just a second," Slappy interrupted. "What do you mean 'when Hazel comes back home'? What? Does she live here with you now?" he inquired.
"Yes, and she's in a mental hospital for suicidal watch," I explained. "And I'm not sure when she'll be coming back home, either." I looked at the clock. "One a.m.? Boy, it sure is late," I remarked. And when I faced away from the clock, I witness Slappy falling back on his side again. "Are you alright?" I asked in full concern, even though I didn't want to show it.
"I don't feel too good..." he replied.
I picked him up and he flinched. "You're probably just tired." I stood up and put him on the large chair. "Stay here and don't move."
"Where am I going to go?" I heard him reply in a sarcastic voice.
I then came back with a sleeping bag and pillow. "I do have two guest rooms, and one of the guest rooms is Hazel's so you can have the other one. But for now, you just sleep in here," I told him.
While I set everything up, Slappy spoke again. "You do realize your being nice to someone who tried to kill you, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "I know..." I finished setting everything up. "There. Now I know you don't need sleep, but this would have to do."
Slappy grumbled and got down from the large chair, making his way to the sleeping bag. He then crawled into it, laying his wooden head on the pillow. "You know," he brought up, "Hannah is gonna have a spaz attack when she sees me, and whenever Hazel gets back home, she'll have going to have that same reaction. And I refuse to feel bad for what I did to her."
"Your choice." I picked up the book. "But you are going to have to apologize to her whenever she gets back home for what you did and said to her. She's going through a very tough time now," I said. "So you don't have any choice, at all."
He crossed his arms. "Fine," he gave in. "I'll...apologize to Hazel whenever she gets back home. Or I can just teleport to that place you mentioned." He thought about it. "Yeah, I should do that."
"It's too far away," I confirmed. "Besides, I want her to see you when she gets back home whenever she can."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine."
I nodded. "Good." I walked across the room and picked up the book, then looked at Slappy. "Just making sure you don't have any ideas..." I murmured.
"Oh, please. If I let my 'friends' out of that damn book, they'll beat me even more," Slappy remarked, referring to the monsters.
I nodded again. "Uh huh. Well...goodnight. May rest give you peace." I looked away. "...I hope." Then with the book in my hand, I walked out of the study room, and shut the door quietly, holding the doorknob. After, I went to my room to hide the manuscript before I went to bed.
Once I did that, I went under the covers, shutting the light off. "I hope Slappy doesn't have any bad ideas," I thought out loud. I sighed. "And I hope Hazel comes back home soon."
And with that, I shut my eyes, waiting for sleep to enter me.
Hazel
I woke up the next day to hear knocking on the door, and to see the sunlight poured through the window. I sat up. Or at least tried to, only to barely move around at all. And to wonder why my face burned when I felt Jackson arm around me. I guess he did that after he finished playing it. Do I feel uncomfortable? To be very honest... no. But if I don't get out of his grasp, I might end up blushing even more.
The knocking continued, and right before I can wake him up, the door opened. Please, don't see this the wrong way, I begged silently, thinking the person that came into room would start hollering at me.
I waited and receive no yelling. So I looked up to see Rosy with a smile. "Morning," she greeted, then let out a giggle. "Was your boyfriend keeping you company?" she asked.
"Huh?" I rubbed my eyes. "No... No." I shook my head. "He just let me lay on the bed with him because...my bed has tear stains all over it, along with my pillow," I told her. "I was crying last night from a dream which happened a third time," I explained to her.
"Oh," she said with a slight nod.
"Yeah..." I looked away from her. "I...hope you don't see this the wrong way..."
"No, not at all." She smiled. "Besides, Jackson is one of the nicest people in this building." She winked. "And I think he likes you, too." She then frown. "He did had a girlfriend, but it turns out she was a complete fraud towards him. But...it seems like he found a new one."
"Um...we're not in a relationship," I replied. "In fact, no boy ever dated me. Ever." I looked over at Jackson who is still sound asleep. "If you don't mind, can you wake him up for me. He looks like he's a heavy sleeper."
"He is, actually," Rosy chuckled. She then put his hand on him, shaking him gently. "Jackson, it's time to get up," she started waking him up. Of course, all she got was a snore. So she tried a different approach. "Jackson, your mom is here."
"Mom?" Well, that woke him up that he quickly released me and sat up, his hair a complete mess. "My mom is here to visit me?" he asked with a smile, then frowned. "Wait a minute..." He squinted his eyes at Rosy. "You just said that to wake me up, didn't you?" he figured out.
"Yes, I did," she admitted. "Only I had to, because it seems like Hazel couldn't move at all," she pointed.
I looked at Jackson, my face still red. "I really can't move," I insisted. "Before you released me," I added.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know." He brushed his fingers through his hair, looking at Rosy. "If you don't mind, can I give Hazel a tour around the building?"
Rosy thought about it. "Her first therapy session starts at eight, so you only have an hour. So yes," she grinned. She walked towards the bed, taking the pillow case and the blankets and the sheet off my bed. "I'll put these cleaned for you, darling, before you go to bed tonight. Oh." She stopped. "And breakfast is waiting for you at the cafe, so you better get a move on," she stated.
"There's...a cafe?" I questioned with a confused look. I looked at Jackson with a raised brow. "Is that true?" I said.
"Yes, there is. Come on, that's where we'll go first," he confirmed. "Just let me get dressed, and after I take my pills, we'll go there and eat. And then I'll give you a nice tour of this place. It's not like any other mental hospitals that you see on TV or in the movies," he declared, jumping out of bed, going over to his dresser, and pulled out his clothes. "I swear, Hazel, it's better than any other place I went to," he swore. He ran into the bathroom to get ready.
A few minutes later, he came out of the bathroom. "Ready?"
"Um..." I let out, looking at the clothes I wore. "Let me get ready, too..." I got out of bed and went to my dresser, pulling out fresh clothes, heading to the bathroom, shutting the door.
After I got dressed, I grabbed a hairbrush that was on the sink. I was kinda grossed out when I saw tangled up hair in the bristles, so I took them out, throwing it in the small trash can to clean it off. Then I brushed my hair, getting the tangles out.
While I was doing that, I had a strange feeling back at Stine's house. Either that, or maybe I'm just...crazy. I don't know why, but... I feel like Stine released that evil dummy. Again, I could be crazy, even though I'm not.
By the time I was done, I walked out of the bathroom all dressed. "I'm ready," I announced softly, not looking at Jackson to avoid any redness that would appear on my face. "Let's...go to the café..." I spoke.
"Awesome!" Grabbing my hand, he led me out of the room, leading me to the cafe.
The cafe was noisy by the time we got there. I saw people of my age and older eating and talking. It was pretty packed, too. "Jackson..." I began to feel a bit anxious. "Where are we going to sit? This place is... filled with people," I confirmed uneasily.
"Don't worry, I know a place we can sit," he reassured me, going up to the trays, and grabbed one. I also grabbed a tray, as well. "What do you eat for breakfast?" He gave me the same cute smile from yesterday.
"I like...pancakes?" I answered, which sounded like a question when I replied back. Of course, my face burned red.
He laughed. "Gee, your face is red again." His silver eyes beamed into mine. "You know... I do like you. Really," Jackson insisted, leading to where the pancakes are. "Here are the pancakes," he directed proudly, like he knows the place at the back of his hand. "Take how many you want, Hazel. They make the best food here, ever," he promised me, sounding very trustworthy.
"Alright..." I took a couple of pancakes, setting them on the plate that is on my tray. I noticed him raise a brow. "...what?" I said.
"Are you sure you want two pancakes? You might be still hungry, and lunch doesn't start until twelve."
My mood switch all of a sudden. "Are you controlling me on how much I eat!?" I yelled, getting angry. "Do you have a problem with that?!" He backed away from me with a stunned look in his eyes. "Answer me!" I commanded. "Why did you ask me that stupid question?!" I can feel people stare at us, only I was too focused to even noticed.
"Hazel, calm down," he settled. "I just wanted to know if you want more, that's all," he responded, walking up to me. "You don't need to get angry at me. It's my fault, I should've never asked you that."
My anger vanished and I was left with guilt. "No..." Tears came to my eyes. "It's my fault. I shouldn't reacted like that." I stared at the floor, not wanting him to see me like a complete fool. "I'm...going back to our room," I mumbled, setting my tray down. "I'm not hungry anymore..." I turned to walk away when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I looked at him, and saw sorrow in his eyes.
"Please eat, Hazel," he begged. "If you don't eat, your mood swings would get worse. I've been through with people with the same problems that you have, and they're moods change a lot quicker without food in your stomach. Believe me, it happens."
"You're right. People do get mood swings without anything to eat," I agreed. "Okay, just to make sure you don't worry about me...I'll eat as much as I can," I decided.
"Great choice." He grabbed some pancakes, and took me to the other food stands. Not only that, we got our drinks which is orange juice. "Here, let me take you to the table I always sit at," he gestured. He led to a table over by a window. He set his tray down, and right before he sat down, he pulled my chair out.
Not wanting to be rude, I sat down. "Thanks..."
"You're welcome." He then sat down at his chair. "So..." he started. "Tell me about yourself."
"Uhh..." I tensed my muscles, looking at him. "Sure," I relaxed as he gave me that encouraging smile. "I'll just give you background of my childhood. Long story short, I was beaten..."
"Oh my gosh." He put his hand on over his mouth. "By who? Your parents?" he said, not liking what I started to say.
"God parents," I shortly answered in a bitter tone of voice. "You see, my real parents died in a car crash back when I was five, and I ended up living with my god parents. My first thought was 'cool, I can live with these people' and that's when I used to smile. But then," I frowned, "I found out that they...hated me. They never liked me." I looked down at my plate, picking up my fork. "Even my god brother," I included, ripping a piece of pancake, shoving into my mouth. I chewed and swallowed to continue my story. "I get beaten everyday by my god father, Jeff, get screamed in my face by my god mother, Kelly, and Travis, my cruel god brother, would tell frauds to them so I can get...hurt. In fact, speaking of him, I think I saw him my dreams three times. And the third one was last night," I informed.
"Wow." I lifted my head up and went to say something, and he explained what he meant. "I mean wow, I can't believe how...cruel they sounded. They should go to jail."
"Oh please," I snorted. "They'll just make up stories, and those stupid cops in Madison would end up believing them and not me. Besides, I don't need to worry about them anymore," I brushed off. "And I hope I don't get face to face with Travis. Just because I dreamt about him doesn't mean it gonna come true, right?" I looked back at him.
Jackson shrugged his shoulders. "You could be right," he concluded. He took a drink of his juice. "Anything else you want to tell me?"
"I...ran away from home," I added. "It started after I got fed up with my classmates back in kindergarten who always make fun of me. They always judge me for the things I do and the books that I like to read."
"Goosebumps?" he guessed.
"That is correct..." I finished up my breakfast, pushing the plate to the side. "You know... I thought Zach, Hannah, Champ, and Stine were only pretending to be my friends. Only I was wrong about them." I got up from the table. "So...that tour you were talking about?" I reminded.
He quickly finished up. "Yeah, yeah let's go."
"Shouldn't we take our trays up?"
"No, the people that work at the cafe area always clean up our mess. Although, I did tried to insist that I should clean up my own mess, only for them to refuse to let me." He smiled. "Let's go so I can give a grand tour," he led.
I gave him a nod in return, and followed him out of the cafe with one question in my head.
Do I really like him? It's up to me to find out.
Note: Wow, I believe that this is my most longest chapter ever. And yes, Slappy is released from the new manuscript. I thought about writing that scene later in the story, and decided to do it now since months had been passed by. I can't believe this chapter is so long, longer then my other chapters. Plus, how would Hannah and Hazel react when they see Slappy? Especially Hazel since she doesn't know when she's coming back home to Stine's house. You just have to find out, readers!
Also, just to clarify, a tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable. Alright? So for those who say a tomato is a vegetable, it is not. It's a fruit, okay? A fruit.
Plus, I'm still trying to think of a rewrite of my Goosebumps The Game from my 3Ds, and it's not easy coming up with a title, along with the stories that I want to rely on Goosebumps. So keep checking everyday for relied stories and chapters on this story, too. I love writing this story.