I screamed either way, but the sound came out muffled. It was more like a loud groan, and I doubt the old man downstairs even heard me.
Then I heard that strong but velvety voice. "Keep quiet if you don't want to wake up the entire school. No one knows I'm here."
"Ms. Duval?" I mumbled, a deep sigh of relief falling from my lips.
She retracted her hand. "Shut it or I'm leaving."
Excitement and relief mixed together to leave me a trembling mess. I've never been this happy to see someone before.
"You came back for me," I whispered, unable to keep the joy from my voice. "Who told you I was here?"
She frowned. "Everyone knows you're here."
"Are you going to break me out?" I looked back at the window. "Something was just outside my window. And I heard the voices, the crying of the damned. I can't stay here, I'll lose my mind. What if what's outside comes in and kills me?"
"I think you watched too many movies as a kid. This is not some badass action movie where I break you out and save the day." There was the sound of ruffling papers.
"How were you able to get past the guard? Did you bribe him?"
Ms. Duval sighed, "I'm going to leave if you keep pestering me."
"As long as I get to leave with you," I replied, watching the moonlight cut into the room with a slice of light. "I feel like a criminal locked up in here. I can't even take a piss if I wanted to, and the mattress looks like it has some disease that's going to crawl into my skin if I lie down on it."
"Will you stop complaining? Dammit! I knew coming here was a bad idea."
I panicked when I heard the anger in her voice. "I'm sorry. Please don't leave me."
We settled into an uncomfortable silence, with me chewing the inside of my lip. It was a nervous habit. I should be grateful that she was even here at all.
"If it was back in my world, nobody would've come back for me," I muttered, tears beginning to sting my eyes. "So, thank you." I sniffed. "Will you be staying the entire night?"
There was no answer, only the sound of something ruffling. She seemed to be searching for something.
It was a whole minute before she raised a paper bag. "Are you hungry?"
"Uh…I mean, I don't think I can feel normal things like hunger since this is a fictional world and I don't really belong here."
My stomach chose that time to growl, it had my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "I swear that wasn't me," I mumbled.
"It's just a burger, there's two of it," she replied. "And I've told you to stop talking crazy unless you want to remain in this room."
I could barely see out of the little opening in the door so I thrust my hand out blindly, my eyes widening when I felt Ms. Duval's hand circle around my wrist.
It reminded me of her first intimate scene with my female lead, right there on the table in her office. Ms. Duval had held down both of her wrists like this before bending down to give me the most ravishing kiss of the century.
"Mary? Why is your heart beating unusually fast?"
That snapped me out of my reverie and had me pulling my hand away so fast I almost dropped the burger. "I'm just scared of this place. That's all."
I cleared my throat and bit into the burger. It wasn't as good as the one I usually ate, but it could satisfy my hunger and that was all that mattered.
"Thank you," I whispered in-between bites. "For not forgetting about me."
"I'll leave after you're done eating." I could hear her shuffle again before she sat on the floor outside the door.
"Can you tell me about the girl that was here before me? The one with an uncanny resemblance to be, according to Charlotte," I asked after I was done eating. "I think it might have something to do with me coming here."
"There's no need for you to know about her," Ms. Duval replied, her voice low and strangely unstable. "And be careful who you listen to. In an isolated school like this, people find entertainment in making up stories. Anything to keep their imagination going."
I thought about my own imagination and why it kept drifting back to that intimate scene. Would I have to relive that? Was I the main character now?
I shook my head to get rid of that thought. "The headmistress said you were the reason she killed herself. Is that true?"
"Yes."
Her answer was short and final, but I didn't believe it. I half turned to the door like I could see her. "I don't believe that. You don't seem like the type to hurt other people, at least not intentionally. In my book, you're kind and loving, the human expression of an angel."
"Don't be so sure. Even the devil was once an angel."
"True," I muttered. "But you came here tonight because you knew I'd be alone, and scared, and hungry."
"Don't flatter yourself. I only came here because I felt responsible for your tantrum earlier and your attempt to…" she trailed off. "It's just a teacher taking care of their student. That's all you should see this as."
For some reason that hurt, so I leaned against the door instead of answering. I blinked severally, playing with my fingers. "Do you think my parents would still be searching for me?"
"Your parents are dead."
"They're really not." I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "I know you don't believe that I'm not from here but can you at least listen to me? I feel like I'll explode if I don't talk about the current mess in my head."
For a moment I thought she'd stand up and leave, or say I was disturbing her like my mother always did. But instead she said, "I'm listening."
I wanted to jump up in glee. "Thank you…for choosing to listen to me. You know, this is the reason I started writing. Everyone considered me a nuisance, never listened to what I said. I mean I don't really blame them, I was their least favorite child for a reason."
"Parents should love their children equally," she replied, moving slightly before putting her back on the door.
Call me crazy but I could feel the warmth of her body through it. I felt safe, cared for. "Unfortunately, that's never the case. Even when I was an only child, before my sister came along–no one ever paid attention to me. The strangers that attended the church held more importance than their own daughter did."
"Mmhm," she urged me to go on.
"For some reason they decided to become good parents after my sister was born. I mean…I'm happy she doesn't have to go through what I did. Still, I can't help but be jealous. That she knows what it feels like to have parents that actually take care of you. Do you know the worst part?"
"No."
"She takes it all for granted. They'd buy her lots of toys and she'd throw a tantrum because she wanted it all to be pink." I laughed, wiping my tears furiously. "If someone ever showed me even half of that love, I'd never let them go."
"Your first book, what was it about?" Ms. Duval asked in a small voice, like she was afraid of upsetting me.
"A baby that was given up for adoption by her biological parents. She was adopted by a loving old couple that had lost their own child years prior, and they raised her with all the love and care in the world."
I spoke again when she didn't respond. "You must think I'm pathetic."
"Wanting to be loved is not pathetic. If anything, it takes audacity to admit that you need someone else."
"I don't think it's audacious. More like a childish dream from having unavailable parents. What about you? Do you have any family you left behind to come teach here?"
"I thought you said I'm just a character in your book. You must know my backstory then, after all you're the author." Her tone was light, almost playful.
I laughed, "Right." I stretched my legs out on the floor. "In my book you have no family, you're a woman who wants to be loved. You and my main character find love in yourselves, and it ends happily ever after. At least, that's the plan. I've not finished the story."
"Why?"
"Writer's block. I couldn't write. I think a part of me wasn't ready for the story to end, because then I'll go back to my boring world."
My eyes started to grow heavy, but I didn't want to sleep. "Will you be here when I wake up?" I asked, afraid that I'd be left all alone again.
"Only if you want me to."
I imagined she was sitting beside me. "I do. Please… stay."
The room was freezing cold when I drifted into consciousness. I could hear an animal cry in the distance and the sound of wind blowing on the leaves.
"Ms. Duval," I called. "I'm cold."
There was no response.
"Ms. Duval?" I stood up, wincing when a sudden rush of sensation shot up my legs. "Ms. Duval!"
Her name echoed around me but there was no sign of her. I looked down at my feet where the paperbag she'd given me earlier should be lying but there was nothing.
It was like she hadn't even been here. Had I imagined it all?
I fell to the floor, the feeling of dread crawling up my arms.
I curled into myself as the sound of cackling rose outside the window. It was shrill, almost inhuman, like a thousand voices laughing at my descent into insanity.
I covered my ears. "Stop. Please stop!"
It didn't. And the sudden realization that nobody was coming to save me almost buried me alive.