-- "...Kris, can we talk about something? Alone? I'll be in my room." --

Chapter 1 - Let Me Know

'These last two years. Oh, how do I put them into words. I've been trying so desperately to figure that out, jotting down vague webs of words that resemble an ounce of how I feel... But it isn't enough. The pain, the stress, the uneasiness of it all? How can I describe it, when it's something I've never imagined was possible. It began when Dess disappeared, of course. But that's the only part that *has* successfully been put into words, all over the news, the papers, my mother's mayoral conferences... Everyone in this town knows of her now, and she's gone. And all I can do is just, hope she comes back? That's what the school therapist says, and I don't understand how that's reassuring.

Speaking of my mother, she has grown cold-- colder than usual, at least. Especially now that my dad is receiving constant medical treatment, which is yet ANOTHER thing on my plate... She seems to get angry so easily. If I'm not doing school, I'm to stay in my room. I don't get to hang out with people anymore. Not unless it's my dad, since she's too paranoid I'll disappear like Dess... So now I can only see my friends at school, we can't hang out or play anymore like we used to...

My... My friends... My only two friends... And I don't even know if that's a real, proper term for either of them... Berdly, is, well... Berdly. We hang out, we do projects together-- So, he is, someone I hang out with-- but, now? He's been-- sleeping. Ever since-- yesterday. Yesterday, when I invited Kris... to...

Kris... I've, I've been, neighbours with Kris for, my entire life. We are the same age, we grew up together, for a long time I've thought of them like another sibling, almost... But, in their own words, we aren't friends. We're something else... That's what they said that day, after all. That... we aren't friends...

That...

That dreadful, day... That day of which they tried to tell me, it was all, fake. They arrived at my house in a hurry several hours ago. I would say it was last night, but it's still, within tonight? It's hard to tell... I was unable to sleep that night... hell, I still am. Every time I try to, I dream of... the snow. The cold, empty, endless snow. So I was standing outside, on the balcony. Stupid thoughts were rushing through my head, a part of me even wanted to jump. Then I felt their hand... their reassuring voice telling me, it was all a dream, that Berdly will get better, that the dark world wasn't real, that I didn't... kill... all of those... people... All of those innocent people...

And, maybe they are right, nightmares can be, weird. And, if, they say it wasn't real, if they say it was all one bad dream... well, I-- I have to trust them, right? Again, we've known each other, all of our lives... But I can't, ponder this forever. I need to have a real talk about what happened. A more in depth discussion of my nightmare. About how, genuinely traumatic it felt... They're the only one who will listen and understand. After I sing at church today, I'll ask them to, hang out and study... It'll be good news. It'll be... Okay.'

Noelle took a long, deep breath, as she finished her newest entry in her diary. Her eyes red from unrest, tears forming as she wrote through her emotions... Her heartbeat irregular, since the encounter at the hospital. But as she looked at the clock, it was thirteen past 4am, a new day, and today, is a good day, it's Sunday, it's a holy day. A day to go to church. A day to repent. And yet... a powerful, choking shackle of dread, sat atop her heart, almost crushing it. Leaving her diary, she slowly crept towards her bed, kneeling larboard, closing her eyes... "O, Angel... Please guide me... I feel I have committed, a horrible deed. I am told it was all a dream, but the guilt feels too real. Please forgive me. I didn't, want, to hurt, anyone... Please tell me it wasn't real... Show me it was all a dream... Assure me I didn't, kill anyone... please, O angel, show me mercy..." she prayed, trembling afterwards, almost shivering, like a cold front had entered the room. She swallowed her fears, opened her eyes, and proceeded to get ready for the day. She put on her choir dress, her winter spice perfume, and her best necklace... She would put her watch on, but-- Kris. Had it. 'Maybe it's for the best', she thought, 'maybe I look more modest, without it', she hoped. In the mirror, her eyes looked beyond tired, they looked dead, a dismal gloom circling her overall expression. 'Yeah... That won't fly' she thought, as she forced her usual, empty, people-pleasing smile, while hiding the vivid tiredness in her eyes with a touch of makeup.

And so, she walked... before the sun even rose. A little too early, no doubt, but she needed the solace, the solace of a holy place. Somewhere she knew, no matter what, would be safe. The cold of the autumn night was biting, the wind blowing at just enough velocity to only make the chill worsen. She was tired, so, so very tired... but, whenever her eyes drifted shut, the tundra returned, empty, haunting. And not the "scary" type of haunting, for she liked scary things, no, this was the looming type of haunt, the dreadful, painful, sense of doom. Her heart's arrhythmia only worsened each time she saw the arctic hellscape, making her chest spike with sharp pain. Was this, a heart attack? No... not quite. She could still breathe steadily, still move, still focus. The stress was just taking its toll, her heart struggling to stop her from breaking into a state of mania. The church was only a few blocks away, but this walk felt eternal, with the sharp bitter cold only making the visions of her own personal hell more vibrant. She stared at the hospital as she walked by. Her father said he'd be at service today, and she's excited to see him there... Her last interaction with him was cut a little short, due to... due to...

She held her head, her fingers digging into her hair, gripping onto strands tight, almost as if to cling onto them for dear life. How the hell would she be able to talk to Kris today if just thinking about them made her feel uncomfortable. 'Maybe I should go back... wait for mom to wake up and drive me there on her way to work...' she thought to herself, and so she turned back around--

"...Proceed..."

She stopped. Like a deer in headlights. Her heart jumping, almost completely stopping, as her body, her entire body, trembled, wrought with anxiety. "W-Who... Who" she whispered out, her throat tight.

"WHO, said that?" she choked, wanting to scream but unable to from the crippling fear. There was no response. Nothing. Nothing at all. The wind grew stronger and the trees swayed, tears fell like raindrops as she clenched her fists tight enough to hurt from strain. "S-Show yourself!" she growled, the words coming out broken and splintered as if they were shards of glass being devoured by a garbage disposal. But nobody came. No one answered. Nothing responded. Her body, instinctively, began to run, faster than she had ever ran before. She ran to the church, to her safe place, as if the earth itself was falling apart behind her. Her thoughts were rushing, her breath was scattered, her heart was soaring. "Church opens all day on a Sunday... All day... It'll be open. It'll be open... You just need to, make it-- It'll be open..." she muttered frantically to herself, her lungs starting to become exhausted from the sheer amount of stress. Usually she could jog or run for a while, but this was all too much, she could barely breathe now, inhaled exasperated, exhales ragged, her head throbbed, her vision narrowed-- And with every blink, the snowfall arrived. "PLEASE BE OPEN PLEASE BE OPEN PLEASE BE OPEN" she begins to cry out, coughing, sobbing. She saw the back of the church, adjacent to the City Hall. Frenzied, she picked up the pace, forcing her legs to move even faster. Steps on the ground felt like slipping on ice, but she was too focused to fall-- She turned sharp, and-- the doors were closed.

"No! NO! NO NO NO NO!" she yelled, banging on the knocker as hard as she could. "PLEASE, PLEASE! FATHER ALVIN! SOMEONE! OPEN THE DOOR! PLEASE!" she screamed with all her power, hyperventilating, sweating, coughing, shivering. The door swung open all-of-a-sudden, causing Noelle to fall face first onto the church floor. "Heavens! Noelle? What is the matter?" Alvin exclaimed. Thinking first she was in danger, he peered outside, but no one else was around. "You sounded as if you were in danger-- As if..." he stopped as he focused on her, she hadn't moved, she was, frozen, on the floor, all of her energy spent from the blitz to the door. Not asleep, just staring, blankly, as she took hollow breaths as if they were her last. Stopping with words, Alvin picked her up, walking into the altar and sitting her down on a pew, with a blanket and some juice to follow shortly after. Noelle was conscious, watching him all the while, but alunable to really do, anything. "I-I" she forced out, "I-I'm sorry--" was all she could say. The pastor placed his hand on her head, "Whatever it is that has made you feel this way cannot harm you in here. I don't know whatever it was, but I can tell you are afraid, and I can tell you haven't slept. Do not feel like you need to sing today, Noelle." he said, attempting to be as calm as he can, given the severity of her frenzy. "I-I want... sing..." she said, tears falling. "Please...". Alvin sighed and nodded, "If you feel better when proper service starts, then feel free to sing. But right now, it is important that you rest." he replied. "C-Can't rest. T-Terrors... Hor-horrible." she mumbled, before the pastor guided her to lay, making sure her blanket was comfortably applied. He held the juice-cup in one hand. "Sip." he asked, and Noelle slowly complied, drinking from the straw a few times, followed by deep breaths. "This church is sacred. Protected. The terrors of the night and demons of the mind cannot enter here. Close your eyes, and sleep, my child. Trust me. You are in the Angel's home now." Alvin said, as soft and reassuring as he could, before walking over to the pipe organ, playing the slow early morning chorales. Noelle's gaze shifted to the ceiling, counting the grain-lines to keep her mind occupied as the music swelled. Her breathing, over a few minutes, became steady once more... then deep, long, peaceful. Her eyes fluttered shut and, for once, the endless white was gone, replaced with normal, familiar black. "Thank you..." she spoke, unsure if it was even loud enough to be heard. As she rested, her body warmed, as if the Angel itself was holding her, and she was finally, finally... able to sleep.

* Wake

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