Wow I actually didn't expect anyone to read this story, for some reason! I am pleased! Please continue reading and I shall continue updating!

I don't like thunder and lightening. It's really loud and scary.

Right now it's storming outside. I've been awake since it began, and have been clinging to Brad. He's always told me not to worry about it- that as long as I'm inside, the lightening won't hurt me. That still doesn't prevent me from being petrified of it.

A clap of thunder so loud that it shakes the apartment happens.I let out a few whimpers and cling even tighter to him. I feel his arms tighten around me in response- I woke him up.

"It's alright, Rocky." he tells me softly. I bury my face in his bare chest and he stokes my hair, knowing how that calms me down.

"Make it stop…" I mumble.

"You know I would if I could, but I can't."

I look up at his face. The minute I do, lightening illuminates the whole room as if it were daytime. Thunder sounds a moment later. I bury my face again.

He sighs. "I don't like it either…it reminds me too much of…of…"

He trails off, but I know what he's trying not to talk about. It was thunder storming the night he brought me home. Like a movie, the memories began to play in my mind…

I don't remember much from the night Brad first brought me home. Well, at least before I blacked out.I know that i was created in a lab by some weirdo in women's clothing. He created me and immediately used me for his own pleasures. The night got progressively crazier as it continued…long story short we all ended up performing in a floor show for an invisible crowd. Then my creator's two lackeys turned on him.

That's as far as my memory of that place goes. The next thing I recall is waking up in the darkness of night in the back of a taxi, still in my floor show outfit and makeup. I had woken up, and started panicking. I didn't know where I was, how I'd gotten there, or what was happening. I was gasping, almost screaming, until I felt gentle hands on me from behind and heard a comforting voice say, "Rocky, it's okay…you're safe now…"

In the little light from passing street lamps, I could make out Brad's makeup smudged face, genuine concern sparkling in his eyes. Without thinking I scooted closer to him and all but climbed into his lap. He held me in his protective embrace, stroking my hair and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I was unsure of what was to happen, but I hoped it would be way better than the hellhole I was born in.

After awhile, we pulled up in front of a small house and he helped me out of the taxi before he paid the driver, (he later told me, he had stolen the money from the guy in the wheelchair) and the driver drove away into the night. I watched him drive away before Brad tugged on my arm and pulled me to the door. With shaking hands, he lifted the welcome mat to reveal a key. He unlocked the door and we walked into the house. When the lights came on, and I took a look around, for the first time since I had been born, I felt safe.

He sat me down in the kitchen. I continued to take in my surroundings as he wet some paper towels and began to scrub the makeup from his face. When his face was mostly clean, he began to clean my face up as well.

"You doing okay, Rocky?" he asked. I nodded after a moment of hesitation. "Well don't you worry- you'll never have to be touched by that awful Frank 'N Furter ever again! We're going to leave and go some place where they'll never find us!" He continued to clean me up while griping to himself about how his fiancee, Janet Weiss, had betrayed him. (I still feel a little guilty for sleeping with her, but Brad has always told me not to worry about that.) Once I was cleaned up, he took my hand and we walked upstairs to the bedroom. On the dresser was a photo of Janet. Mindlessly, Brad put it face down and made his way to the closet, where he pulled out some fresh clothing. After he got dressed, he glanced at me. "Hmm….I guess we're gonna be more or less the same size…I mean, the clothes might be tight because of your muscles, but we'll find you some clothes once we're far away from here!"

He handed me a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from the closet and I shed the floor show outfit. I was used to being naked in front of people, so I didn't immediately notice how Brad was staring as I changed. When i did notice and looked at him, he looked away, clearly embarrassed. I let out a laugh and that got him to smile.

An hour or so later, we were dressed, the necessities were packed and Brad again hailed a cab.

"To the airport!" he said to the driver. The driver nodded and began to drive in that direction. The sun was just beginning to rise. I absentmindedly held onto Brad's hand tightly. I was still shaken terribly from everything. I was only about ten hours old, but it had been a hell of a ten hours. I looked at Brad as he stared out the window at the sunrise. He looked very apprehensive.

I'm pulled from my memories of that night by another loud clap of thunder. This one, though not as powerful, was enough to bring me back to the present. I look at him once more, taking my chances of seeing a lightening flash.

"…h-h-hot chocolate?" I stammer. He smiles.

"I guess the occasion calls for it, huh?" He reaches onto the nightstand for his glasses.

There have been nights where at least one of us has woken from nightmares of… that night. Usually, we'll go to our kitchen and get some hot chocolate to calm ourselves. It's been awhile since we've had to do this. It's still a comforting pastime.

We get out of our bed and, hand in hand, walk to our small kitchen. I take a seat at the table, and he grabs two mugs from the cabinet. I watch him prepare the hot chocolate.

"Marshmallows?" I ask.

"As long as you promise to not try to eat the whole bag separately again." He reaches onto a different shelf for the bag.

Soon the two steaming mugs are prepared. Brad hands one to me and sits down next to me. Outside, the storm has calmed reasonably.

I blow on my hot chocolate to cool it a little before taking a sip. Brad does the same.

Each time we sit down for hot chocolate, it's different. Sometimes, we talk about what we're feeling. Sometimes, we talk about other things.

And sometimes, like tonight, we're completely silent, lost in our own thoughts.

I honestly don't like things being silent. It allows me to think too much. My thoughts used to go to the events of that night, and barely anywhere else. But in the past year, things have gotten better, little by little.

After we finish our drinks, we go sit on the couch and turn on the TV. As I rest against Brad's shoulder, I try to pay attention to whatever show is on, but my attention is more on the past.

I know I want to forget. I know he wants to forget. But I think we need to face the bitter reality: the past wasn't a bad dream- it really happened. We will never forget that terrifying night. But we really need to find a way to move on.

The alarm clock blares from the bedroom and my eyes shoot open with a start. I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep on his chest. Brad gently pushes me to a sitting position and goes to shut the alarm off.

After we quickly make our own breakfasts, Brad goes to put the eggs back in the fridge.

"Hmm. Looks like we're running low."

"On what?"

"Pretty much everything. Rocky, if you could just make a list of what we need and run to the farmer's market while I'm at work, that'd be great."

I nod, going back to my bowl of cereal, and he goes to get changed for work. I feel bad sometimes that Brad has to work two jobs to keep us afloat. I can't exactly look for work anywhere; the fact that I pretty much have no past, no education, and no records makes things difficult. Brad has been trying to find ways to work around the system (mostly through bribery and favors) to try to fabricate a life for me, but that has been unsuccessful so far. He always tells me to give it time and not to worry, but with each passing day, I grow more and more nervous about the future.

Soon he's all ready to head out for the day. He gathers his things and heads for the door. I follow him.

"Have a good day!" I say. He kisses me, very slowly breaking away afterwards.

"You too, love!" And he walks out the door.

As I turn the lock, my own words echo in my mind…

Have a good day!

I don't know why I said those words. Not after what had happened when Brad first said them to me…

"Have a good day, Rocky!" he kissed me before heading to the door and leaving for his first day at work.

The minute the door closed, a knot of worry tightened in my stomach. I stood at the window, watching him get on a city bus, eight floors below. The bus drove away. I was now officially alone.

On the kitchen counter was some cash for food. Brad had been drilling me into being able to say what I wanted to the people in restaurants, and we had several of those nearby that I could easily walk to. But I just didn't feel like I was hungry.

As the reality set in that I was completely alone, I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. I got up from where I sat at the table and on wobbly legs, made it to the couch. I scrambled for the remote and turned on the TV, hoping for a distraction.

As whatever show was on droned in the background, I was overcome by a horrible feeling- a feeling I can't even explain! I just felt…like something bad was going to happen. It was around that time that I started hearing things. I kept hearing a loud clack-clack from just outside the apartment…it sounded like…like high healed shoes! It would come down the hall in one direction, getting louder and louder, and stop in front of the door. I'd mute the TV and just wait. Time would tick by very slowly and it seemed like forever until the heals clacked away from the door. I'd breathe a sigh of relief, and then go back to the TV- until I'd hear it again.

After the fourth time hearing it, I couldn't take it! I grabbed a steak knife from the kitchen, and rushed to the door. I threw it open, brandishing the knife- there was no one there.

I shut the door and dropped the knife, my body trembling. Voices began to echo in my head. They were all very familiar, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Suddenly, I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched.

The next thing I remember is scouring the apartment, trying to find the cameras…I knew they had to be somewhere! I knew…they…had to be watching me! After I checked obvious places, I moved a chair to try to look in the top corner of the room, hoping to find the camera hiding in plain sight. I moved too fast, and ended up missing my step. I toppled over backwards.

That's how Brad found me, hours later when he came home. I was curled up on the floor, shaking and crying. As I had been laying there for several hours, it seemed like time had slowed to a stop, and the voices kept going. The minute he came home, it's like things instantly returned to normal.

"Rocky!" he had cried, running to me. "What happened?" He gathered me up in his arms and held me tightly. "It's alright…it's alright…I'm here now…"

I shake my head to get rid of the memory, and realize I'm still standing at the door. I sigh, and decide I need to get out of the apartment for awhile.

Maybe I'll go get the groceries now.

In a little while, I've made a list of what's needed. I leave the apartment and start down the hall.

That's when I hear it. Heals.

I freeze in place. After taking a deep breath, I turn my head and look over my shoulder.

The sound stops and I see no one's there.

I laugh quietly to myself; thinking about a year ago must've messed up my mind a little.

As I get to the elevators I hear another apartment door open. I don't really know the neighbors very well; I've always been a little shy around new people.

I don't even turn to look at whomever it is, but they stop just behind me and wait for the elevator. I get into the elevator and they walk in beside me. I still don't look at them. Instead I study the list, making sure I have everything I need.

However, I can't shake this uneasy feeling I have.

The elevator stops at the second floor. The other person gets off. Something in the corner of my eye catches my attention and I look up just as the door is closing.

I only get a slight glance at them from the back, and I can be mistaken at what I see, but the few tufts of fiery red hair sticking out from under their hat make my stomach churn.

Please review, or I shall attack you with a pickax!

Frank 'N Furter: Now, now. That's no way to 'pick' your friends...

Me:...when did I decide I was going to have conversations with fictional characters in my author's notes?

Frank: Since you sold your soul.

Me: ...that happened just before puberty. But I've been writing fan fictions since long before that. I never did this silly thing.

Frank: Welp.

Me: I thought I'd never do this. I need sleep. College has officially broken my mind. Read and review!