The usual disclaimer. As you might of guessed, I did not create "Silent Hill". Other, smarter people did - don't sue me. All you will get is my debt.

-----author's notes:

This story is told from 2 or 3 different perspectives. sooo whoever's name is at the top, you are seeing the story from their point of view. :)

This takes place 17 years after the events in silent hill 3

- I really enjoy this chapter, because it's based on the time the creepiest me coming home from school time ever. Cha- what? I thought the smell might be my cat stuck somewhere, but don't you worry ! It wasn't. Sure would teach her to play by the furnace though...

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= CASSIE =

-creeeeeek-

Ouch, Mom defiantly heard that. Love-a-ly.

Maybe I'd get off easy for coming home if I said I had a headache or something.... but forging a note wouldn't go over so easy. I mean I know I could just omit that part of the story, but she'd ask why the school didn't call... and I'd come up with some excuse like, "Um, all the school phones were... busy. Busy with .... being on fire." Somehow she always managed to see through my iron crafted ruses.

Our living room, just like most of the house was this cream color. I always thought it was s sickly kind of white, sterile looking. I mean, there were some pictures on the walls, and we always had some fresh flowers in each room.

"Momma?" I yelled, putting my bag down on the couch. Figured it was better to confront a bad situation head on rather than wait for it, ya' know?

She didn't answer, but I knew she was home. Her car was in the driveway. Not to mention, bless her heart, apparently she was cooking. I came to that conclusion via the slight burning smell wafting through the house. Ugh. I mean, good intentions and all, but my dad did the cooking in the house for good reason.

I skipped through the hallway, hoping whatever mess she created wasn't to, ...unsalvageable. (Just last week she completely burned through my favorite soup pot.)

"Mom?" the kitchen door was already a little open, and oddly enough, the smell seemed to get fainter in the kitchen.

I found some freshly made jell-o in the fridge, but other than that, looks like she wasn't cooking. Which is good, I guess. Still, weird. What was that smell?

"Mom?" I tried again. Her room was empty as well. The bed was made. Down the hall, mine was too. She must have started her morning rounds, my laundry hamper was outside the door, like it was about to be taken to the basement. God knows I didn't do my own laundry. Do you know how many settings that washer has? Like, 6! I need a button that says "Wash, " and that needs to be it.

Well whatever, if she's doing laundry it might be better to leave her alone. The musty smell in the basement puts no one in a good mood. Plus I've been avoiding cleaning up down there for about.. a year now I think. Well at least I knew what I'd be doing on my day off.

Sighing I sifted through the contents of the basket, looking for something reasonably warm to wear. The only thing not noticeably ketchup or otherwise food stained was my green turtle neck sweater. It was quite possibly one of the softest things I owned, plus it had this cute little turtle on the sleeve. Hehe... turtleneck.

The burning smell seemed, stronger now. Dang that was disconcerting. That in mind I trotted back downstairs, and gave the kitchen another once over. God, what is that smell?

"Momma?" Why did I have the feeling I was calling her name in vain? My eyes followed the cold blueish light from the only window in the kitchen. It was right next to the basement. Walking over, I only tapped my fingers on the doorknob.

I don't want to be yelled at.

Was that why I was hesitating? My hand was all the way around the knob.

No, you're scared.

That's ridiculous, why would I be scared?

Mom's always home. Her car is still here. And you know she doesn't leave without the damn thing.

I don't want to know, if something's, happened.... I'm scared.

-click-

"Momma?"