#WritcoStoryChallenge
The footsteps following me sounded closer. I ran through the empty corridors of the hospital, my heart pounding with terror.
I turned a corner and stopped short. I had reached a dead end. I turned around slowly, daring to face my pursuer. But I saw nothing. No one. I took a deep breath, daring myself to believe it. Was it all in my head? Were the doctors right? Am I crazy? I took two short steps forward, before a shrill scream rang out into the dark, empty of halls of my prison. Shocked, I started running. If there was someone in this hospital that was chasing me, they may have found another victim. I ran into the room I heard the scream come from, and I saw a young woman strapped to a bed, thrashing. She kept screaming and screaming. I saw blood dripping on the floor before I realised it was coming from her wrists. I screamed for help, anyone. Did they not hear her screaming??
I dashed into the hall, yelling. I saw a nurse run over to me
"What in the blazes is going on? Get back to bed!" she grabbed the sleeve of my shirt. I was hysterical.
"No, no you don't understand. She's dying!" I cried.
Frantically I pulled her towards the room, hearing the womans low moan.
"What are you talking about? Miranda, stop this nonsense!" the nurse demanded.
I got into the room, and the girl was gone. I froze.
"She was here. She was screaming. Did you not hear her screaming?" I ran to the bed, throwing the sheets asside. "She was right here!" I looked around the room, thinking I'd find something. I ran into the hall. Maybe I had walked into the wrong room. I checked every room in that hall, terrified for the girls' life. The nurse grabbed my arm, "Miranda, you are sick."
"No! She was dying! She hurt herself! She needs our help!" I gasped, collapsing onto the floor in agony.
"Miranda, are you trying to tell me something?" The nurse asked, concerned.
"What? No, you arent listening to me!"
The woman knelt by me, "come on, let's get you back to bed." She picked me up and helped me back to my small room of the mental facility, helping me lie down on my small cot.
"Get some sleep. you'll feel better in the morning." She said, walking out of the room and locking the door behind her.
I was too shaken to sleep.

A few hours later I heard shuffling on my floor.
My eyelids shot open, expecting to see a nurse to take to me shock therapy. After all, that's what they do every time I have an "episode"
But I wasn't crazy. I knew I wasn't. The girl was real.
And she was standing in front of me.
I sat up quickly, wiping my eyes.
"I didn't do it." she wispered.
I saw blood still dripping from her wrists.
"Do what?" I asked, slowly standing.
She held up her wrists.
"He did it." She started scratching at her skin with her nails.
"I didn't want to die. But he killed me. He said no one would know." her eyes began to overflow with tears.
I noticed she was wearing a night gown, but not the same one as me. Hers looked old, with lace around the collar. The ones they used to wear, before the facility got new ones.
I knew it, without a doubt, this girl was dead.
"Who killed you?" I asked, all of the peices slowly fitting together. I saw her die. Was it a vision? Aren't visions of the future?
"The man upstairs." she said, her voice cracking.
"You mean god?" I asked, puzzled. does she mean he made her life miserable? So she killed herself?
"No. In the attic. God's not real. Wouldn't I be in heaven if God was real?" She seemed confused, like she didn't understand anything that was happening. Like her mind couldn't stay on one subject long enough to form a coherent thought.
"A man in the attic? What do you mean?' I took a shaky step foward.
"What's your name?" She asked with glossy eyes.
"Miranda. What's yours?"
"I'm tired and I want to sleep." She seemed to have the mentality of a young child, but she looked to be well into her teens.
"Then go to sleep." I didn't kow what to do. How do you comfort the dead?
I saw the sun begin to rise outside of the small window.
"oh no." she whispered.
"what?"
"they're coming."
and then she opened my door, and walked out.
I stood, dumbfounded. before I heard a sharp turn of a key, and the nurse walked in.
"Miranda. you're awake." She said, sighing.
I said nothing. The door was locked. But the girl walked through it. But I saw it open.
"Miranda? I'm taking you for your morning counseling. Come with me."
"No. I don't want to." I mumbled.
"Miranda, please don't do this today."
"I'm tired." I said, even though I knew I couldn't sleep.
the nurse sighed, "I'll be back in half an hour. be ready by then."
The woman walked out. I sat on my bed and stared at the wall, trying to make sense of how I ended up in this place, and how I was going to get out.
I suddenly felt my body slammed onto the cot, a man strapping my hands down.
"Shhhh." he hushed menacingly. "She heard me following. She'll be here any second."
A small chuckle, and he pulled out a small switch blade, and drew it near my wrist.
"Who are you?" I choked in fear.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm the man upstairs." And I knew exactly what he meant. From the attic.
"And no one is ever going to know." He said right before slitting my wrists, and I screamed.
A girl ran in as I was screaming.
"Someone help!" She yelled, running to my bedside. I thrashed and I thrashed. The girl ran into the hallway, yelling. As she disappeared behind the threshold of the door, I saw her gown, and her face. She was me. But her gown had lace around the collar.