She was all alone in this tiny white room with just a curtain hiding her view from what ever what behind it - or who ever was behind it. Her fingers ran over the surface of the wall. It was cold and the feeling gave her chills. A chilled sigh fell from her lips. She took her fingers away from the dry wall and slowly placed them on to the curtain. The fabric was less of a dry feeling, more soft and not so hair raising as the wall was. She gingerly pulled the curtain back; only to see that there was another window with the same curtain. She heard screams and other noises come from that room at night and it drove her crazy... And when ever she asked someone at WICKED about it, they would just say ‘When you are ready you will meet.’ She didn’t have any idea what this meant. She’d been trapped in this room ever since she killed Rachel. Every night she’d have the same dream it never changed, she’d always end up killing her, no matter what situation it was. Every day she’d open the curtain in hopes of seeing what was behind it. She’d sit there for hours and just watch the curtain to see if it would move, even a little bit. But it never happened. She was getting so damn impatient. She knew there was someone behind there because of all the screams and the noises. She made a fist and banged on the glass until her hand was screaming in pain. “Who are you! Why are you here! Why do you scream!?”
She screamed out these questions as loud as her voice would allow. Her vocal cords felt like they were ripped from her throat, but it was all worth it when she saw a hand reach open the other curtain. Her green hues locked on to the tall figure before her. He looked messy, but then again so did she. Her hair was a rats nest. She couldn’t speak if she tried. No one would be able to understand her. So she breathed on the glass until she made a little patch of matte white. She wrote backwards with her index finger. Hopefully this would work and they would give her some sort of answers. She had no idea why WICKED had taken her. What value was she? Not much. She had already done the job they wanted her to do. “Who are you? Why are you here? Why do you scream?”
