Disclaimer: I do not own Silent Hill 2 or its characters. The creatures I made up though are mine. Once again, credits to gamefaqs for the gaming script. For realism, however, the scene where she meets James will be changed slightly in that the items they carry (handgun, purse, like that) are visible, because its hard to make sense of anything a game throws at you anyway when it comes to disappearing items. Work with me here.

Author's note: Sorry for the wait. Had to adjust to life on summer vacation. Anyway, for those of you who are confused as to why I included Laura, well, I thought that she wasn't merely a creation of James but also like the conscience for Eddie and Angela as well. That's why she is here. Okay, less talk, more writing.

Silent Hill 2: Founded Fears Ch. 7

I Think I'm Broken

She seemed a little out of place, to say the least. What would a little girl be doing playing with little dolls in a place like this; in a town like this, for that matter. How was she still alive? Wasn't she aware of the monsters lurking out of everyone's nightmares? Why isn't she hurt? Angela should probably have been asking those questions, but something about that teddy bear turned her mind into a blank slate; all she could do was stare around in confusion at where she was and who this girl was. Why was she here again? To remember something? To forget? How old was she? Her body was 19, but who was to say she wasn't 4, like she was feeling at that moment. Whatever had happened to her, all that mattered was that the little girl stopped playing with the wooden dolls long enough to notice her. When she finally did, her face went from a look of innocence to a look of disgust.
"Who the heck are you?"
Angela just slowly turned her blank stare towards her.
"Fine, don't tell me. Its not like I would like you anyway," the little one said, "You don't look like the type who people would wanna be friends with anyway."
Something about that comment brought Angela back into reality. This little brat was speaking down to her, a full grown woman. She deserved more respect than what she was getting from this young child. Looking angry, Angela was about to scold the girl when she continued:
"You know, if you're gonna do bad things, you should really stop crying over the punishment you get. I'm betting you did a lot of bad things to make your mommy and daddy hate you so much. So don't whine over what you deserve."
Angela's ire was stopped instantly. Instead, she was dumbfounded at what the little one said. Did she really know what she was talking about? No. This little prick was just trying to mess with her mind.
"Shut up," Angela said in a cold, angry whisper. The little one obviously wasn't listening, and instead she got madder:
"Shut up or what? Are you gonna hurt me too? Grow up. You and that bad man deserve each other."
Something struck home then. Did she know…know what? She couldn't remember. What happened? Was it this morning, or yesterday, or even yesteryear that whatever happened happened? What was going on with her head?
"Look, I don't know what you did wrong, and I don't care, just stay away from me, okay?"
Angela, who was out of it at the moment, only nodded her head slightly in response.
"Good. Bye then."
Picking up her dolls and putting them in her pockets, the girl got up, walked to the door, and left.

Angela didn't know what to do at the moment. All thoughts of Mama were gone, replaced only by a deep confusion. Things seemed to be changing, yet the room stayed the same. She started to sway. The room was tilting. She staggered around for a bit before finding support on the dresser. With the picture. Angela took a look at it.

It was Mama in her more beautiful days, herself when she was still young…. and Daddy.

Daddy the provider.

Daddy the loving husband.

……

Daddy, tough but fair.

Daddy, strict love.

……

……

Daddy that monster.

Daddy that pig.

Daddy that…that BASTARD!

Angela lost it. Screaming, she took the picture and violently tore it in two, separating Thomas Orosco from his wife and daughter. She stomped the ground and kicked the walls, as well as slamming her fist into them, causing her hands to throb. She was too deep in rage to realize what she was doing. It was like Angela took on an entirely new personality. That bastard. How dare he how dare he how dare he how dare……

…….the age of 13. Angela was finally a teenager. Usually people were proud of that. Angela just felt that she was just one year closer to death. So what if she was finally old enough not to be considered a pre adolescent anymore, life was just as meaningless as always. No friends, a family's ruination on her shoulders, a brother who hated her for the hell of it….she just wanted to die. Just to rest. She obviously wouldn't be getting that. At the moment, she had to deal with that fat tub of shit in the corner drinking his beer and watching the tube. He had pornography playing, and he had turned it up all the way because it got to the part where the actors were making the most noise. Disgusting. Bringing his pretzels over, she had to wait like a maid while her "master" decided when to take notice of her and accept her "offering". Sexist pig.
Finally turning around in his chair, he faced her. He was a mess. His hair was unkempt, he hadn't shaved for weeks, and Thomas Orosco practically had an aura of alcohol around him. It was best not to make eye contact with him and just leave him his pretzels. Angela could never understand why Mama or David would want to leave her alone with him, but then she remembered they didn't care too much for her. Well, fuck them.
Giving his highness his pretzels (without a thank you to boot), she was about to make her way to her room when a rather gruff voice spoke up over the volume:
"Why couldn't you ever bend like dat," Thomas asked in slurred speech, "I mean, I gif you so much, and all I want iz a wittle lovin, ya know?"
"I'm not one of those whores you have on the sly father. Go fuck them if you're feeling lonely," Angela snapped back.
Immediately she regretted it, as Thomas sprang up for speed rather impressive for a drunkard and he caught her throat with one of his burly hands.
"Don't ever talk da fuk dat way again you wittle bitch," he snarled, his breath coming across as something toxic, "Dos are lady friends and you can't talk about my friends that way. First itsh da coffee and den da amusement park and now you wanna start something. Women only need to be screwed cuz then we all die if we don't, sho logikally it should be an honor for daddiesh to wanna do der wittle gurl, so get outta here you ungrateful shlut," he finished, dropping her.
Angela coughed violently, trying to stand up. Unfortunately, her problems weren't over. As she tried to stagger out of the room, her father kicked her in the rear, sending her sprawling headfirst into the ashtray kept beside the couch. As she gasped out of shock from the force she accidentally inhaled too much of the dust coming from it, and to make matters worse she also got a real bad amount in her eyes, blinding her. This was not the type of thing where one gets a speck of dust in their eye and it hurts, she got what was like a handful of sand in her eyes. Angela should have gotten medical attention, but instead she was punched in the side of her jaw, causing some cuts to appear on the inside of her mouth where tooth met flesh. She was dizzy for a few moments, then realized that her father had overextended himself in his fury and was catching his breath. Feeling unmitigated fury and hatred, she shouted, "FUCK YOU! I'LL PISS ON YOUR GRAVE AND EVERYTHING YOU DAMN FUCK! JUST TRY SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!" Her throat became instantly sore. Crying, she ran to her room, leaving her father still panting.

Da wittle prick had da nerve to challenge him after everything he did for her? Dat one wouldn't be makin da babies anytyme soon, so why does da big guy gotta take shit from some widdle sinna? He had to help show her da place she needed to be in, and besides, he was horny. Maybe this would be a good experience for her. Know da joy of da sex and she'll be populatin the world in no time.

Angela just cried over and over, about how fucked up life was. It wasn't fair. She didn't mean to drive father to drinking, so why did she still have to pay for it. All because of that horse, that stupid horse. She deserved everything that happened, her forgetfulness from the head injury she got from him on her 10th birthday, along with her rare hallucinations brought on by it, the abuse she endured everyday from him. She ruined his life, why shouldn't he be mad. But it didn't stop it from hurting. She would live with her sin for the rest of her life. At least she knew she could be mad a David. He had no right to punish her, seeing how he really wasn't involved with the horse incident anyway. He could kiss her ass for all sh-

Thomas stood at the door, clad only in his boxers. Angela looked at him stunned. If it weren't for the fact that she was just crying, or from the predatory look in his eyes, she would have laughed at him.

"Daddy, what do yo-,"

That's all she got out before he tackled her into the bed, pulling the brown sheet over them as he did unspeakable things to the struggling Angela. On that night, the neighbors heard screams of pain and rage like they never heard before from that house. Growing concerned, and having enough of that family disturbing the peace, the cops were called. Several police officers had to restrain a naked Thomas Orosco as they sent him into the car, where he would later be taken, in the long run, to Toluca Lake Prison, a prison reputed to hold the most notorious people. By then, though, it was too late. An Angela shrouded in a blanket was sitting on the porch, shaking and pale with bruises starting to show and little bite marks in her ears, just wanting her Mama. She was waiting, but she would find out later that Samantha Orosco was too stoned off of her ass to care (she had been into the heavy stuff recently, and she had been gaining more weight as well). Nothing seemed to matter anymore, however, for this was her biggest punishment yet; Angela lost her innocence to the only male figure she knew, and she just wanted to die ever since…

…..Present day Angela had already tired herself out thrashing everything, and was laying on the ground, studying her knife, and her reflection. Most people would see someone pretty decent, even fairly attractive when they looked at Angela; Angela only saw a Sightless staring back at her, mocking her. It who she really was, actually. She was a monster beyond saving, so why should she care about anything?
The knife. Yes, the knife. No matter how many times she stabbed something with it, she could wipe it clean every time, except for that one spot of dried blood that would come out no matter what. It taunted her as well as the Sightless. That final act, no matter how many holes she put into that Doorman (was it the Doorman? She thinks it was, but maybe she was getting it confused with something else. Weird) would never be washed clean.
Angela just stared a while into the mirror, a dead husk of herself taking the place of the Sightless that was there a second ago.
She heard noises.
From the hallway.
Someone was coming. It wasn't something, seeing how her radio wasn't emitting any static from her purse. She could hear something that sounded like giant bug spray going off, and a man cursing as gunshots rang just outside the room.
She heard the door open.
Someone was inside, looking around.
She didn't care. Let whoever it is find her. She might get lucky and get killed. Mama was nowhere…nowhere…
The man she met earlier in the graveyard just entered the door, quickly pocketing what looked like a handgun in his pocket. He looked beat. Maybe the Devils were giving him a hard time too. He had just seemed to notice her.
"Oh…it's you," she says in a rather monotonous voice.
"Yeah. I'm James."
"Angela," she mumbles.
"Angela…okay. I don't know what you're planning, but there's always another way."
The fool, talking like he knows her. Then, she remembered that comment that girl made earlier about a bad man.
"Really? But, you're the same as me. It's easier just to run. Besides, it's what we deserve."
"Chew on that, you stupid oaf," she thought.
"No," James protested, "I'm not like you."
She couldn't believe the lies.
"Are you afraid," she started. She was about to continue, but then she got a hold of herself. What was she doing? This guy didn't do anything to her, and that girl could've been lying for all she knew, "I, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Did you find your mother?"
Wow, such concern.
"Not yet. She's not anywhere."
"Did she live in this apartment building?"
Good question. What brought her to this place again?
"I don't know."
"So all you know is that she lived in this town?"
Wait, what did he just say?
"What did you say," she asked, "How did you know that?"
"Well….I just figured, cause this is where you're looking for her. How else would I know?"
Fair enough.
"Yeah."
"Am I right?"
"I'm so tired."
Its true. She had a long day.
"So, why did you come to this town anyway?"
Time to change the subject.
"Did you find the person you're looking for?"
"Not yet."
The man reached into his green jacket and pulled out a photo and bent down to show it to her. It had a shot from the chest up of a lovely woman with beautiful brown hair, dark eyes, high cheekbones, and the background was that of a lake on a foggy day. It looked like something out of a painting. So beautiful.
"Her name's Mary. She's my wife."
Angela shook her head. She had never seen her.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Anyway, she's dead. I don't know why I think she's here."
Wait a minute. What the hell?
"She's dead?"
"Don't worry. I'm not crazy. Least, I don't think so."
She needed to get away from him again.
"I've gotta go find my Mama."
She got up and started towards the door.
"Should I go with you? This town's dangerous. Now I know what you meant back there in the cemetery."
She couldn't trust him, not yet.
"I'll be okay. Besides, I'd just slow you down."
"What about that," James asked, pointing at the knife.
Yeah, for a crazy guy, he had a point. She didn't want to die before seeing Mama, especially not by her own hand.
"Will you hold it for me?"
"Sure, no problem."
"If I kept it, I'm not sure what I might do."
James approaches to take the knife, and that's when Angela saw it. He wasn't human. He was trying to trick her. What was standing in James' place wanting that knife was not him, but a human demon wearing a white cloth stained with black and red spots all over, and on its head…was a humongous red pyramid helmet. She saw that it wanted its weapon back, her knife. Screaming, she pointed it at him, about to strike when the illusion disappeared and she only saw James with his arms up in defense.
"No! I'm sorry. I've been bad," she pleaded. No telling what this man could do to her, "Please don't." With that, she left the room, closing the door on him.

Author's note: Okay, I know what I said last chapter about finishing the apartments, but two things came up: 1. This part took longer than I thought; 2. I'm just finished at 2:30 am right now and I am friggin' tired. Don't worry, the alternate apartments should be a breeze after this. Sorry to disappoint. To any readers who don't like Angela's rather angry temper, I have that because I believe that she might have some mental issues that are close to schizophrenia, and I believe mood swings are one of the biggest parts of her character, which would explain why she sometimes acted so strangely. This is just my interpretation of her, nothing more. Please read and review. One last thing though. That "painting" in the flaming hallway in the hotel. I believe that thing on the wall is actually some sort of mummified Doorman (that's just me). I need to know whether there was one or two of those things. If there were two, they would be opposite of each other. I tried to get a screenshot, but it only showed the left wall. I need to know if there was a Doorman on the right. Please tell me. It doesn't really affect the story that much, but it would be nice to know whether there were indeed two Doormen or not that she has to deal with.