Author's Note: Dear me… Here comes the love interest of the main character in this story. And yes, you all know who she is… Enjoy.

Ah, how do I begin to describe Blondie? Well, she was the first person I met, you know, aside from Doctor Gorski, of course, and became the love of my life in the long run… Her real name is Annabelle Aponi Honeve; a name of Native American descent, if I remember correctly, and it just sounds so beautiful to me, though she hates it. Her nickname when I met here had been "Belle", but it quickly changed to "Blondie" when I started calling her that. She was born in the evening of February fourteenth, and is currently twenty-one years old. By the way, that's right; she was born on Saint Valentine's Day. Another thing she hates about herself. With a height of five feet and five inches, just that bare inch difference, she possesses such beautifully tanned skin, no doubt from the fact that she is rooted from that same Native American descent and all, that made me jealous at some points, and has long black hair with whispers of waviness like my own that comes down just to the bottom of her shoulder blades, though is usually held in a perfectly messy updo unless she's going to bed. Ah, but her eyes… She has such adorable black pools for eyes that, not even once, came to my head as intimidating, as most dark eyes did to me… So, I met her almost as soon as I entered the mental institute, just minutes after arriving. At that time, she was only fifteen, but she still looked just as amazing then as she does to me now…

I was one of the first twenty patients to enter the halls of the Lennox House, which was created by an esteemed Polish therapist. There wasn't much staff at the time, only a few orderlies that doubled as nurses, a janitor coined "CJ" for whatever reason, a rather rotund cook who had been kicked out of the military, and one person to keep records of everyone. As soon as I entered, I felt in my gut that I wouldn't like being here, and I felt like I was a freak immediately. There were a bunch of hallways to the sides, but I was first brought out to what the orderlies had called the "theater". It was a socializing room filled with gray square tables and just-as-gray chairs out on a concrete floor. Even the few scattered patients here, all girls since this was a female-only institution, wore gray dresses with gray knee-high socks and little black slip-ons. Apparently, not much color was allowed in here… The only colorful thing was up front. Literally, it was a theater stage of sorts, but one that was meant for patients reenact their worst nightmares or their past before everyone in order to, I guessed, show that they weren't afraid of them anymore or something like that. The wood of the stage was a deep, dark brown, the curtains a musty crimson and the scenery was that of a bedroom, bed in the middle facing a shelf with assorted little decorations. The colors of the bed and wallpaper were a bit of a disgusting shade of yellow and white… A girl, probably a few years younger than me, was currently sitting on the bed, back facing away from me.

There was a lady sitting at a long rectangular table, a large and exotic-looking tape player meant for large reels to be played on. The woman herself was tall and thin, though did carry a lady-like air of elegance about her. She had deep, almost dyed, red hair held in a tight bun, poring black eyes sheltered by doctorial half-framed glasses for reading, and smooth, clean white skin decorated by a female black suit with white blouse under and a black matching pencil skirt. Walking up to me, she gave the most warming and charming of smiles as she introduced herself as "Doctor Vera Gorski" in such a thick European accent. I automatically knew it was she who ran the place... Compared to the surroundings, she seemed the liveliest, which was a bad thing in my eyes. She explained to me that the theater is where patients who surpass private sessions would come to attempt to relive their traumas in order to get past that point and, hopefully, succeed further on their path to recovery. I couldn't help but think that it must be something unique to this place; a strange technique to treatment around here. I was still interested in psychology at the time, but never heard of all of this… So weird… Doctor Gorski looked back and called out to the girl on stage, saying, "Come here, Belle! I want you to take this one on a tour, please." She furrowed her brow a bit to show she meant it.

With that, the female on the stage stood up and, running a hand through her hair to sweep it back, walked down the side and came up to us. She gave off a friendly smile as she said, "Hi. I'm Annabelle, but it's just 'Belle' for short~" She seemed naturally sociable in nature, even, if I say so myself, a bit flirtatious…

I looked at her and said, a bit of a frog caught in my throat, "I'm Blaire."

She nodded, repeating my name. Wow. I'd never heard it sound sweeter than that. She started walking away, then looked back, beamed, waving a hand as she said, "Come one, everything will be okay."

God, she was too lovely to pass up, even then. I nodded my head silently and followed along, my own new uniform feeling so weird and uncomfortable with its irritating fabric. But, hey, it was better than nothing at all, right? Meanwhile, it seemed it suited and complimented Belle's features.

As we walked away, she gestured towards the tables and chairs, starting on the tour: "Alright, so this is just where the patients; us, come whenever we feel like not being cooped in our rooms the whole time… So, trust me, there are more people here than it seems at the moment." She walked onto the stage, having to go back and lightly drag me up there with a giggle, and continued: "And this is the theater, where we express events in our past to the Doctor that got us here." She kept holding my hand as we walked backstage, where a large studio-like room lay. "This is where group therapy's held… Ooh, I hope you get put with me! You see, I'm all alone, so I have to join other dormitory groups for this part of the day. It's not fun, really…" She gestured to a wall leading to a small room. "And that's Gorski's office. You'll go there for private sessions. That's usually the worst… She likes being thorough on information." She still never let go of my hand. That's about the only thing I really noted… She had such small hands compared to mine. And they were soft, as well as nimble. Mine were a bit short for me as a female, and were calloused from my years of wandering and playing, which consisted of doing a great deal of exploring, especially in the park back then when I'd climb trees and dig around every now and then. I didn't dare say a word about it, for I liked the way our fingers entwined.

We were walking across the room towards a door when she suddenly tripped over practically nothing, causing the both of us to fall. When we came to our senses, my eyes were the first to widen. So I landed on top of her. That was to be assumed, since she was the one that took me down with her. But the position was a bit… Compromising. I was on my knees, my right hand holding me up, while my left hand, which was the one holding onto her right hand, was still curled about her fingers tightly, still jarred from the movement. The elbow of that arm was down, causing me to lean towards her… Meanwhile, Blondie was under me, her legs spread out a bit as one of my knees was between them, her left hand crooked a bit to go around my right hand, as her right arm was up a bit, touching my own arm from hand to elbow … A pink blush crossed her cheeks, and she gave off a weak smile as she squeaked, "Sorry."

I couldn't stifle my own embarrassed laughter, which was awkward considering we were face-to-face. I lightly commented, "If you happen to continue to trip, at this rate, I'll be calling you 'Blondie'…" I didn't know what I was doing, but, out of the spur of the moment, I gently stroked her cheek with my free right hand before using it to prop me up and away from her, sitting by her side as she sat up as well. We looked down at our entwined fingers at the same time and, with a shared giggle, we let go.

She turned to me, the blush still very apparent, and sighed, "You know, I would love that nickname so much better than my own name… I hate that name of mine."

"Annabelle? But it sounds so cute."

"I don't want to be cute," she said, a slight tone of irritation in it as she looked down at her lap, her hands meeting only to twiddle as she started to admit, "I mean, I just don't want to come off as being so… Girly. I don't like it… All my life, I've been used and judged by my gender. I'd rather have a name that says: 'I'm spunky and possibly dangerous. Fear me.'" She gave off a quiet chuckle, which I joined.

"Alright… I'll call you 'Blondie' for now on. I'll bet it'll start catching on."

She looked up at me. Those eyes were irresistible as she grinned, "Thanks…" Her blush began to reform again, but went away as she broke our gaze, standing up, a cough coming from her throat, though I knew it was fake. "Let's, um, finish the tour, shall we?"

After the tour, I was taken to Doctor Gorski for my first private session. Blondie was right; most uncomforting in the world. It was just us speaking and an annoying tempo-thing or whatever Gorski called it that just kept ticking slowly. It was too slow to be a second, but too quick to even be two. It felt like it was extremely off-beat with some hidden rhythm in my head, though it was probably my own heart beating as the Polish woman began to probe me off all my tragedies. Other than my parents' death and Blue's attempt to rape me, all I had left was when I lost Billy one day at the grocery store. That had given me a near-heart attack… Good thing was that it only lasted an hour, and then it was time for me to go. The doctor led me to one of the dormitories where, as Blondie had predicted, was with only her. There were ten beds, and the older woman explained that I'll be part of therapy group A-3. "O-okay, thanks." The woman smiled and said that dinner will be soon, then bedtime.

I walked over, claiming a bed to the right of Blondie as she stood up. She went over and, spontaneously, hugged me. "This is great. I finally have someone to talk to instead of a wall every night…"

I laughed, "Oh, really? And what if I fall asleep?"

"I'll kick you until you wake back up."

"Violent much?"

"Very." She let go of our embrace and a look of concern crossed her face. "So… It's been on the back of my mind, but- … How did you end up here? You don't seem like anybody crazy to me or anything. No offense." She sat down at the edge of her bed.

I followed and looked to her a bit hesitantly. "Well… First thing was that my parents died unexpectedly while I wandered away from them with my little brother. And then my big brother, Blue, tried to rape me while he was drunk… Yeah…" I looked down and away, feeling the shame growing in me as the last words left my lips.

I felt her presence sit beside me and place a hand on mine. Perhaps it was coincidence, but they were the same hands that had held onto each other so well just hours ago. She spoke softly, "That's nothing to be so ashamed about… At least you didn't kill your parents after being so angry at them… That's what I did."

I looked up and at her. Her eyes were so full of sorrow. Regret. Hurting like I haven't been able to feel, though I've felt hurting that is almost equally as bad. Now I just wanted to make her feel better. I didn't know how, though. I've never felt such close affection in the longest time. Sure, Grandpa hugged me, as well as Billy, but nothing much more. I remember faintly my parents holding me close for such long periods of time, and kissing me on the forehead. I remember Blue do that a few times-

"Dinner, you two." It was one of the orderlies who appeared at the door, his voice gruff, making us practically jump.

Dinner was, apparently fettuccine alfredo, though it absolutely did not look like it. In fact, it looked like a bunch of yellow flatworms were wiggling and burying themselves in wet, white sand of some sort. As I took my first bite of it, it was cold and slimy. Not the best thing to eat, but at least they took the thought of creating meals instead of feeding us slop like pigs or something.

Now it was bedtime. Nothing to glorify about it. We didn't even have clothes to change into pajamas or anything. We just slipped under the covers of our beds, talked for a while about the events of today with some quietly shared laughs until Blondie was the first to drift off into sleep. I closed my eyes and, soon after, followed. But I didn't know I would be opening them again…

The nightmares started up. At first, everything about it was good, and my family was out in town. Then, I wandered off, going through streets with Billy by my side… Bam. Everything turned sadistic and red, and Blue came towards us, his whole figure as red as the background, the splotches of blood on his shirt now black instead. I began to whimper, tossing and turning in my bed a bit violently. Then, it just got worse as Blue himself turned towards just me. We were older now, and his eyes were taking on that look of lust and want again. Billy was gone like he hadn't ever been there. I found myself crawling into a far corner as my big brother got closer and closer to me.

Suddenly, my eyes snapped open as I felt someone slip beside me in my bed. The warm body alone made me tense, though I relaxed as my vision adjusted to meet the person's gaze. It was Blondie, her dark pupils looking up at mine, her hair now down and tickling my arms slightly, though it wasn't the thing that made me nervous. Instead, they were the butterflies in my stomach. "I heard you mumble and begin to move around a lot like something bad was happening, so I thought I should comfort you…" Her voice was meek again, soaked now in concern and worry.

A tired grin crossed my face. "Thanks." That was all I could say, though I think she could feel how badly now that I wanted someone to be there for me right now. I didn't want to return to that dream at all, especially not while she was around. I felt my cheeks warm, and was thanking the heavens that it was dark. I felt her shift as she picked up the covers and wrapped it around herself as well, and we just laid there, looking at each other until her eyes grew heavy. Her head rolled a bit forward, meeting my collarbone. As I'd thought before, she was just absolutely adorable… I leaned my head down, letting my eyes close as well, and could feel her move a bit towards me, as if wanting to absorb and take away my pain.

To say the least, I didn't have another bad dream after that night upon the arrival of the institute. And, if it even started to occur, Blondie would tuck with me to ease it all away. I knew I deeply wanted to forget about my past, and she was there to make sure that, at least, I temporarily do until the next morning.

If there was one thing I lovingly took from my big brother, it's being protective.

Many days afterward were mostly spent talking to each other, though, when people were first assigned jobs to help keep the House clean, we were given kitchen duty. Needless to say, we had our share of laughs messing with the chef, though he knew we were just kidding at that, and, at the end of the shift, he'd always be found shaking his head bitterly. We definitely were bonding and all that. But, inside my gut, I knew both of us shared some kind of feeling. Something beyond this wild and crazy friendship between, of all people, lunatics stuck at a mental institute. As the days passed, I could see a certain glow in her eyes, like Blue once saw in me when I was just born. There was a fire within hers, but it was for a more compassionate reason. And I understood and shared it as she began to grow on me a bit too close to be just "sisters", like Doctor Gorski would call us. No… As I reflect on it, it was the early stages of us getting hit by Cupid's arrow. Getting bit by the love bug. All of that, and more.

Author's Note: Sorry to say, but that's it for this chapter. Yes, this is back when Blondie wasn't Blondie; she was just a little girl wanting to get to that bad-ass young woman that she constantly pictures in her mind. She's only fifteen, people, please remember that little factor. She'll change as she gets older, don't worry… Please review! Thanks.