A/N: Hallo, everybody.

Erm .. yeas it's been awhile ... hehe.

*Hides in a corner*

Yeah, and again, you probably don't want to hear my lame excuses for not updating sooner, but whatever.

So, here it is. It's a little short, but I plan to update soon, so ... yeah.

:)

Yours truly, a slacker BasketballChamp

Chapter 9

Gone

I don't know how long I sat there. I felt like I couldn't move, because of all the loss, grief, and hopelessness pressing in on me from all sides. It was crushing me, crumpling me into the irresolute pile in the floor where I was now. What did Bobby every do to deserve this? I thought. What did I do to deserve this?

But it was something I couldn't change. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I railed to the heavens, Bobby was gone. Forever.

Gone.

That one word had the power to make me cry out in agony. I would never see him again. He had vanished.

What was he doing right now? Was he walking through some hazy, unreal world, calling my name? Looking for his Sylvie? Or was that just …it? Or had he been just been called to a dark, black void of nothingness?

How could life be so fragile, and meaningless? It was cruel and truthful to know that the world would not mourn the passing of Bobby Daniels. He was just another little boy who was taken before his time.

Whatever, or if ever, he wasn't here with me. He would never be here with me ever again.

There would be no more hot biscuits early in the morning, no smiles, no washing tiny hands and face, no lullabies and stories at bedtime, no belly pokes …

My life here was over. A ship had sailed, a chapter ended.

Now I had an important decision to make: Would I stay here, and work something out in a foster home, or with my father? Or would I leave on my own terms?

You probably don't need my help to know which one I picked on instinct.

I was running away.

The idea sent a thrill of rebellion and loss and grief coursing through my veins. But it was time to suck it up. It was time to leave from this haunted hospital.

I dragged myself to my feet.

I saw myself in the mirror across the room. I saw a tall, skinny girl wearing baggy sweats, and an ugly, old sweatshirt. Her eyes were souless, full of torture and grief. She had tears still unconsciously streaming down her hollow face. Her hair …

"I think your hair is beautiful." Whispered a hauntingly familiar voice in my ear.

I turned franticly.

I was alone in the room.

I grabbed handfuls of my curly, knotted, flaxen hair. It had to go. It was too much.

I tore across the room, and dug through my tattered backpack that I had insisted on taking into the hospital, only after it had been checked over and over and over again by officials.

My hand struck a familiar object.

Bingo. I had found what I was looking for.

I slowly pulled out the gleaming, razor sharp silver scissors.

I walked swiftly towards the mirror, grabbed my whole head of hair in one, angry handful, and before I could change my mind, I began hacking.

I chopped and snipped through the fat, caramel ponytail, not watching the toffee waves float to the ground.

Then, all too soon, it was over. A short, ragged, slap-dash haircut framed my face, and the pile of golden-brown hair lay in unceremonious heaps on the ground.

After a moment's hesitation, I carefully scooped up the tawny locks. I stepped over to the bed, where my father had left me, sobbing uncontrollably. I flung the hated hair as if it was poison onto the small, white bed.

I stalked over to my back pack, and shoved the scissors inside. I had done what I needed to do.

In a familiar movement, I slung the backpack haphazardly across my shoulder. I tucked my ravaged hair behind my ears, and took a deep breath.

Now I had done it. No turning back.

I adopted what I thought looked like a normal expression, composed myself, and turned my hand on the doorknob.

It was a short, but seemingly dazed walk down that scrubbed, white hallways. Nobody looked at me twice.

In fact, I almost didn't hear her calling my name.

"Miss Daniels!"

I turned slowly. It was the nurse.

The nurse with the forget-me-not eyes.

Her voice was urgent, and her expression earnest. For a moment she stared me in the eyes, and I stared at her. I don't know why those cerulean eyes stood out to me so much.

"You must come back." She said her voice fervent.

"What?" I said, instantly on guard. "What are you talking about?"

"Come back!" she said again in that desperate tone. "I'm not going to stop you, but you must come back!"

I stared at her. How could she possibly know I was running away?

"Some day." She said in a whisper.

Then she was gone.

I didn't see her leave, but she wasn't there.

Deeply disturbed, I began a little faster on my way to the doors.

She must have been thinking I was someone else, or been someway referring to a treatment of Bobby's. Or maybe she'd had too much caffeine.

Whatever it was, I wasn't going to stick around to find out.

A/N: So? ... Was it bad? Good? Did you throw up a little? Did you enjoy it? Reviews are always welcome! :)

Yours truly, a still-a-slacker BasketballChamp