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"

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author's thoughts:

- Wha wha? I'm updating this story? Yes, I neglected my evil brainchild, I feel bad. Well, if anyone reads these bits at the top, I really do appreciate the reviews. :) ( especially Hello Captain and wrath! ) So thanks again people! And I mean, just to keep me on track, what do you think about the characters? Am I even keeping them in character? Is it flowing alright? Does the fact that you can see my bra through this shirt make me a whore? Does anything need more description and or am I leaving important info out?

- I never noticed my lack of commentary on my own characters. I guess I thought it would give something away. Well, you're 12 chapters in now, oh wait, I write very small chapters.. so that doesn't mean much. Oh well!

- I do feel sort of bad for Matt. But man, isn't he a total douche?

- Cassie is a peach. I like that (for the most part) she gets to be a little bit more calm than Matt or Ally. Part of my wanting to write this has to do with, 'yes I understand the fictional people that go to "Silent Hill" are for one reason or another, totally whacked. But what if someone reasonably normal got crapped into going?'

- I like that Ally is gets more balls-y with each chapter. She sort of does a 180 after chapter 8, or at least from thinking bad things to saying them. And then I sort of realized she is sort of me. And apparently I'm sort of a bitch. Ooooooh well. :)

Enjoy!

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= MATT =

There's nothing here. Nothing.

Well, there was a see-saw, a slide, some monkey bars.....

But before, I saw something, ...else....

"Oh God."

I must have been a sight to the mothers in the park. They were clustered around the benches , protective hawks eyeing their brood. That was until their attention got directed towards me, running past like a madman. It idly crossed my mind that I needed to get more exercise, since running a block sort of made me want to cough up a lung. But god, after seeing Allyson... like that. "Oh God.."

My legs decided to give out at that point, without telling the rest of me of course. My hands hit the pavement first, and hard. Dropping my head, I just stared at the ground. Nothing was making sense. Was I losing it? Oh Jesus, what if I was? Did what I see back there, with her.. How much of it was real?

Slowly I worked up the courage to take another look at my shirt. It was, sticky. There were, sprinkles on it? Her ice cream, it had, she threw it.....And red, there was red. Little spatters of red that didn't come from the ice cream.

My legs soon found the energy to move again. I shot up quick enough to make myself dizzy, but I didn't wait for it to pass. I just ran. The sane place in the back of my mind warned my I looked drunk, but that was the least of my concerns right then.

" oh... God...."

= CASSIE =

KEYS.

I need some freaking keys. Where does she keep the keys? Oh man I need keys. I need to find keys, and I need to find her.

My eye's were fogging up. Oh boy, don't start to cry.

My Mommy is gone and I want to cry.

All I seemed able to do was spin in a helpless circle around the kitchen. Oh man, oh man, oh man.....

I shouldn't be this freaked.

Yes, you should. You have every right to be.

" She can't take off her prosthetics.... prostheses ... freaking fake leg!..... Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Fuck!"

So what was it, and her cane doing in the basement?

Where is my mom?

Fuck.

I didn't really see what I tripped on, but suddenly my butt was one with the kitchen floor. Sure, fine. The floor. I didn't want to stand anyway.

"Ok, really," I whispered. "enough of this. Time to calm down." Time to be rational.

It was just, she was always so embarrassed of it. She never took the fake leg off. And she gets to tired to walk without it... and especially the dang cane...

Ok. Rationality time. For real. Dad has his keys on him. Mom can't drive.. Without HER FREAKING LEG... Where would the keys be? There was a mantle in the kitchen, but I already checked there.

Mom's purse? Maybe that's still here too? Jumping up at the only coherent thought I had in several minutes, I ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Her room. Well, it was my parents room, but the decorations were all Mom. Therefore it was lilac colored. Wispy patterns of flowers in the wind adorned the tops of the walls, and actual flowers were on each table.

Dresser? No.

T. V. Stand? No. New T.V. guide though. ...

Table? Notepad.... lamp.... and- .. Yes! Her tiny, yes, purple, purse was resting half open on the table. Fingers crossed I climbed over the flowered covers, messing them up of corse, to the table on the far corner. Hellllloo purse.

Lets see. We have lipstick, eyeliner, blush, paper, and.. crap, no keys. But, just to be sure. .. Shaky- shaky.

- jingle -

What? I pried the small thing open like a baby's mouth at the dentist. What do we have here? A zipper pocket in the lining? Score. A quick unzip and I had procured a key to my Mom's 1997 blue "Saturn". The classiest plastic car ever designed. JUST LIKE HER LEG. Ok, I'm stopping now. For real.

Ok, I have a key, and my driving permit, and ... lots of hope I don't get pulled over.

Oh wait, where did I put the permit? Here-? No wait, that's scrap from Mom's purse... uh, er... is it?

It was crumpled, and written in like, red "Sharpie" pen, which would have been fine if it hadn't gone through the washer or something. It looked like a piece of paper of Mom's notepad on the dresser.. And .. My dad's handwriting?

" .... ...... Why do you keep hiding what happened to you there? What's important about Silent Hill that you can't tell me after 17 years? ..... ........ I'm going to find out Mallory. .... ...... ..."

What now? Happened?

And where the crap is Silent hill?

=ALLY =

Pain is a fickle thing. If I didn't move, it shot through me in waves. Unexpected little waves, with little surfers of ... uh.... more pain. But when I was brave enough to open my eyes, it hurt just as bad. The action of being able to move calmed my nerves a bit though. All I could see was dark. Oh ,... oh wait, that's a bad sign. Open eyes and no sight. And my head felt wet. Why was I wet?? I don't want to be on the street anymore. I was in the street? .. Oh yes, that's gravel under my face.

Oh crap, I was talking to myself. And.. oh... double crap, I wasn't making any sense either. Very, very cautiously I worked up the nerve to make a fist.

Oh! Ah! Needles! Apparently my arms just fell asleep. Man, how long have I been here? Using every once of strength left, I pushed up. There was even some sort of success. And by success, I mean I pushed up a little and rolled onto my back. Back, yes, bits of gravel pinching my back. Oh boy, time to use remaining strength not to vomit maybe? Well at least I could see sky, and had a working idea of where all my parts were. Speaking of, hands?? Hands?

My arm slowly came into view above my head. Hello old friend, why are you naked? Wasn't I wearing a sweatshirt? Oh crap! I wriggled around furiously trying to sit up, my fear of nakedness outweighing my fear of pain by a longshot. After and eternity of head-panging horror I could sit up. And sitting up meant actually assessing what happened. Which is weird, to assess what happened to yourself. It's like " CSI", except less fun.

To my relief I had a tank top on, and to my anti-relief, I had totally bled all over it. Actually it looked like a little river to... my head? Hazily I realized the worst of the pain was in my nose. Taking my time, I cautiously touched it.

"SHIT." Ok, more caution needed apparently. It was either broken, or just bleeding real bad. Either way a fresh stream started down my tank.

"Ohhhh... man, my nose exploded."

What the fuck? 'My nose exploded?' How dumb am I? Oh man, that's a funny sentance though.

"Ehe.. Ehehehehehe... ehehehehheheheh" My voice sounded garbled, and very not right. A smile was trying to form, but one side of my mouth was to fucked to make it work.

"Are you ok? You look really bad. "

Uh. Whaaa? There was a little girl in front of me. Dark hair, dark eyes, had that little overall- dress thing going on. Older than 5, less than 10. I had no idea. I don't like kids. Speaking of said dislike, damn she sounded snotty.

"Uhhh..Ugh. Never felt better." Oh wow! My throat is a river of fire! That's neat.

"No. I mean your hair. Your hair is ugly. Are you ok in the head?"

I wasn't sure if the " I wish abortion could take place through the ages of 1 to 10" face was getting across, but I was sure trying. "Haha little girl. Where is your Mom? Where is your mom so I can explain the use of a contraceptive?"

She just giggled and ran around the corner. Story of my life. Hey, corner! Here we go, I'm in the alley behind the ice cream place.

Good lord, looking back on this, I was bound to laugh.

Hell, it was pretty funny right then.

Nose explosion.

Heh.

Hey, where did my ice cream go?

Uhhhh.. Oh. I just made myself sad.