Rain had always been her favourite weather; the melodic pitter patter a soothing sound which was always welcome to hear.

Perhaps, the girl would have gone on thinking this until she eventually bumped into a bad experience with the damp, cold and forceful weather; a small schoolgirl shivering outside her house’s front door, inwardly cursing at herself for forgetting the pair of keys that suddenly held so much value.

But unfortunately, such an unpleasant experience never came to pass.

Loosely staring towards the deep navy sky, a torrent of clear drops clashed against her skin, blurred vision ensuring that all they saw was but a mishmash of dark colours detailed by an uneven covering of crimson.

The freezing intent of the storm never reached its target, for all they could feel was the blazing heat that enveloped their body, spreading from their forehead down to their hands and feet.

She had never felt such a sensation.

The rain did nothing to soothe the avalanche of pain assaulting the girl.

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“..... .... .... Child? Are you listening?”

A scratchy voice erupted from beside the girl, who up until this point had been locked in a fierce staring battle against something in the corner of the room.

“This must be all quite confusing and scary for you right now; however I’m going to need your undivided attention, ok?”

The doctor, covered in a white gown, took a quick look at the clock before grimacing: ten minutes had passed without any sign of even a response to their words.

Soon he’d have to leave her. Making no progress bugged him somewhat.

Listlessly sitting upon a small white hospital bed, vermillion locks cascaded down Chloe’s figure, hiding her injures from his line of sight.

Two hands quivered under the gaze of another, some red still covering her frail fingers, signs of an accident of some sort still present.

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Bandages covered the small figure, mostly concentrated upon her forehead, obscuring the young girl’s left eye.

Her remaining eye had been steadfast throughout the doctor’s rumblings, never leaving the corner of the room for even the smallest millisecond, her dry lips firmly pressed into a thin, seemingly petrified, line.

The doctor followed her gaze, looking towards an empty corner in the room, revealing a puzzled expression.

Something silently sat, crouched down, in the corner of the white room. Its fuzzy black body looking starkly out of place.

“A bad feeling... Something came out of the body... It’s looking at me.” She trembled, her body staring to shake more erratically each and every second longer that her gaze fell upon it’s expression.

The figure had no mouth, but she could see its contorted expression.

A venomous grin spanned from each of its obsidian eyes that seemed to dig into the girl and make her vision spin.

Its body seemed to be appearing in some places, and disappearing in others, looking almost like a static tv screen, fading in and out of reality at whim.

Sensing that the figure was about to talk, the girl pre-emptively but both hands upon her ears, beads of tears threatening to spill from her orange orbs.

“Wh..y are y..ou ta.lk..ing to... hi..m?” The figure screeched, a loud bellow erupting from the figure as it slowly crawled over to the small girl, followed by a few timely giggles.

By this time, the words of the doctor that had been sitting before the girl were once again no longer audible.

Only her whispers, which were gradually increasing in volume, were left alongside the grainy voice that slowly approached.

“Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!” she repeatedly pleaded, tears leaking down her face as she scrambled to the edge of the bed, her fists gripping the white sheets below her as she felt the dreaded wall behind her.

Actions becoming more desperate, she attempted to throw her bed cover towards the fuzzy black figure, before stopping at the last moment.

A new figure had appeared where the other had just been.

“Ch..lo?” the screeching voice spat out; its tone filled with mock concern.

The figure’s voice had changed.

It was the figure of her father. One she’d thought she would never see again.

Grip loosening on the sheets within her grasp, a small little voice croaked out, tears beginning to well from within two small orange orbs.

“Dad?”

The figure halted, examining its new body, before once again hobbling into action.

Quickly getting within arm’s reach of the small figure, a black hand tightly grasped her wrist.

The tip grip felt as if thousands of tiny metal needles were piercing into the small girl’s hand, tears now freely flooding from her orbs as both figures locked eyes.

A black abyss greeted her as she searched in its eyes.

Another second passed before the small child fell back onto the bedsheets in front of her, consciousness lost and in a deep sleep.

The doctor who had watched the series of events unfold, was unable to see the figure approaching Chloe and was furiously scribbling on his device.

Mentally unstable after accident-Requires emotional therapy.