Next chapter! I never realized how hard it was to write two thousand word chapters… they're so long:D If anyone doesn't know, this chapter starts out at about the time when Artemis II has translated the book. Does it explain anything? I might just change up the story a bit, for the sake of making things more interesting. What do you think? Original? Badly written? Somewhere in between?

I was going to update yesterday, but I went to see Star Wars. That movie had almost no comic relief at all…so depressing! Great movie, though. I think I'm going to cry…

There was also a food fight in school yesterday! It only lasted about thirty seconds, though, and our principal got so mad.

Refloc: Thanks. I suppose since Angeline and Artemis I were married at a cathedral, Angeline is Catholic. That's what I'm going to use in this chapter, anyway.

Cybergurl: Thanks… that's always how I incorporated the conversation anyway. I remember wondering for hours what the little things that she hears at night were- then it hit me with the idea that she thought they were her consciences.

Absolute power: Thanks. Holly will be in the fourth chapter, which I have written out. Your answer will come on Wednesday, when I update every five days. A little long, perhaps, but I take a long time to write things out and check my work over.

Passing through Insane Lane

Chapter three: Visitors

Lately, I had been pondering suicide. Perhaps he wasn't coming back. It would be easy, and I could make it painless. Then, I would have no more worries. It would be a permanent escape… but to what? An escape to whatever I am hiding from right now, which as my conscience pointed out I have no idea what it is? Besides, isn't there a rule that all those who die by their own hand go to hell? Doesn't it say that in the Bible somewhere?

But then again, who am I kidding… I can't doubt him. I would only cause him pain if he comes home and I am dead. I would be helping nobody but myself, and this is most definitely is not a situation to be selfish.

I haven't seen my son, Artemis II, I mean, in a while. And every time I do, he's pale. He looks nervous, and stressed, too. What has he been doing?

Luckily Juliet has been working without a hitch, and I am always lifted up by her very frequent meetings. I wish to perhaps talk to her, lift some weight off my shoulders, but I fear that I would only successfully scare her off. If only I could – it would most likely help me get away from this dungeon of insanity.

So here I was in my bed, unsuccessfully wishing away my fears, and these two psychiatrists come to see me.

I saw Juliet backing into the room, followed by the two men, trying to dissuade them from 'checking up' on me.

"But you mustn't see her! You don't know her habits and such, why don't you at least let me stay? I—"She was cut short by tripping over a large pile of clothes… my 'hamper'. Oops.

The first man ushered her out of the room and closed the door, while the second turned on the lights. I could imagine there would be cobwebs on the switch.

At first, the pain was inconceivable. There was a sharp pain in my eyes as my pupils shrank drastically, and I screamed as loud as I could. I heard Juliet pounding on the door (quite hard), and the first man was trying to keep her out while the second was looking at me curiously.

The second man had blond hair that was gelled back, grey eyes, and features that made him look all too serious. 'He's going to die young,' I thought. Suddenly I had an urge to laugh. He was dressed in a very formal suit, with a tie to match, but that wasn't what made me giggle. In his hands was a flipbook, looking normal… except for the fact that it was hot pink. Why would a man, especially one as proper and official-looking as this one, take a liking to that color, of all colors?

He started taking notes on the said flipbook. After what I assumed was a couple of lines, he placed it on my bed and left to help his partner in keeping Juliet out of the room. I couldn't see too well because my eyes were still stinging, and I silently cursed them for turning the lights on. I closed my eyes to block out the lights and hopefully refrain myself from seeing any of my conscience's friends. But soon my I gave in to my curiosity.

I raised my head up slightly to read what he was writing. Before I could read anything more than 'shyness to light' and 'overprotective maid' he snatched up his notes and glared at me. I gave him the strangest look I could, and hoped to scare him away with some crazy-lady antics. It didn't work. He only looked at me, and even with my limited sight I could recognize the I-don't-believe-you look.

"Make sure we have no visitors. I want the utmost privacy for this meeting." He commanded the other man. I noticed he had a British accent. Then his attention was focused back on me, and I felt the strange sensation that I was being analyzed.

"Salutations, Angeline Fowl. I am a self-employed psychologist." He said the syllables slow and clear, as if he expected me to not be able to understand him. I felt highly offended. I am insane, but that doesn't mean I am deaf! Salutations? When was the last time someone had said that?

I wondered vaguely when my conscience was going to come. I knew it wouldn't miss a chance to taunt me about what I was going through because of my… condition.

The man continued. "I have recently noticed certain… clues… about your status and, after some research and clearing up of issues, have had a sudden desire to assist you to speed up your path to recovery. I sent in a request to hold a meeting with you earlier, and an Artemis Fowl II sent in an acceptance for this date and time. When we rang the doorbell, the only people in this house were that maid, and you. Even though the person who sent the acceptance was not present, luckily we decided to come in and still hold the conference."

That took about a full five minutes. Then he made what I thought was an effort of a smile, and I had to stifle a yawn. Another man who thought he would get rich if he helps a lady who was insane for a year. 'Sudden desire to assist you to speed up your path to recovery'… Yeah right!

I didn't say anything, just looked up at him, with a bored face on. He looked surprised.

Then he started the interview. During the torturous time, I answered his questions with 'yes' and 'no', not caring if the answers made sense or not. Instead, I looked around my room, with one question bouncing through my mind—I live here?

Dirty clothes were all in one pile, and some furniture was knocked over. Some broken glass shards were on the floor from when I threw that vase (another reason why everyone wore shoes into my room) but through all the rubbish and wreckage, there was a clear path leading to my restroom. I had the way there memorized.

How did my room get like this? I almost screamed when I saw a little insect scurry across my chest-of-drawers… probably a cockroach. I shuddered instinctively, and the man paused in his question to look intently at me. I pretended not to notice, and waited him to finish his question… whatever it was.

What seemed like hours later, they finally came. My conscience—and his friends. They appeared in random places all over the room, and I wrung my hands in despair.

They were just like I imagined them. Every time I thought I grasped something that resembled them, a feature that they had, it disappeared, leaving me with no clue what they really looked like, though they were right there.

One came close to me, and stared at me through its colorless eyes. I shrieked, and looked at the man, expecting him to 'assist' me in some way. No, he just gaped at me, leaving me to deal with them alone.

In 'dealing' with them, I sank far under my covers and sobbed. Juliet finally kicked open my door, sending the man flying into my sack of dirty pillows and blankets. Then she rushed over to me, and glared furiously at the interviewer. He ignored her and leaned in nearer to me, and I felt like punching him, even though I knew I was in too weak physical condition to do any damage.

He looked awed by the tears cascading down my pale cheeks, and whispered, more to himself then to me, "You really are insane…"

Through my cries and my anger, I managed to croak out a reply. "What are you going to do, hit me over the head with your hot pink flipbook?" I giggled slightly, and then started hacking. When I was done, I looked up to see both men and Juliet staring at me.

"What?" I whispered, afraid of what they could say.

"Ma'am," Juliet said, "The notebook isn't hot pink…"

"Yes," the man who interviewed me said. "My flipbook is black. Why on earth would I carry around a pink flipbook, while wearing a black outfit?"

I sunk further into my bed. The men looked awkward. The interviewer said something that for some reason I could not hear, and they both left, followed by Juliet. She gave me one last sorrowful look, and then turned off the lights. The dark made me feel much calmer, though my heart hadn't gone back to its original pace.

This was terrific. Now I was seeing things—another reminder that I was in fact, insane. The others were the annoying consciences that haunted me.

Speak of the devil. I could tell the little buggers were back, sliding up my bed and to my ears.

I covered my face with the blankets and my heart started beating faster and faster.

How was it that I knew these creatures for over a year, but they still scared me every time?

I drifted off to a restless sleep, tossing and turning, sweating under my heavy comforter.

When I woke up, I saw my breakfast waiting for me—skim milk, peaches, and a French bun. Artemis had done heavy research to make sure I got all my vitamins so I could make up for my lack of exercise.

In the morning, I was once again tired. I basked in the darkness around me, and was rewarded for my silence with another visitor. But this time, I did not complain. For the visitor was in fact my very husband, surrounded in his familiar incandescence. I felt safe for the first time in forever.

He came around the bed and sat next to me. I glowed in his presence.

"You look stressed…" he said, firmly. "Explain."

I felt relieved to have someone to talk to; someone to answer all my questions, and tell me that nothing was my fault, someone to protect me.

And so, I talked. I told him more; I told him all my worries and laid upon him all my dreams and fears. I didn't care if he was real or not, he was there, he was safe, and if he wasn't real, he would come back to me and be real someday. And that was all that mattered.

All day I talked, and Juliet came in several times, probably rethinking her respect for me. After all, I was talking to what Juliet believed was thin air. But I didn't really care—I was still happy, I was still talking to someone who understands. Even if that someone was myself or my mind.

And when I was so tired of talking, I drifted off to sleep again, taking my midday nap. The last thing I saw as I wavered among consciousness was Artemis I, smiling at me fondly and softly saying "I love you…"

My last words before I was napping like a log: "I love you too…"

END OF CHAPTER THREE

I guess that chapter was a little short, but Chapter Two was pretty long so I don't mind. That was a heck of a lot of fun to write! I never knew I could have this much fun writing! I am writing these chapters so quickly! The hot pink thing was actually kind of random, but I felt like doing something random and it all worked out in the end. :D