Side note: This story is NOT EDITED so please refrain from comments saying that I need to work on my grammar and punctuational mistakes, I already know that. Thank you kindly :)

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"How are you feeling, Ms. Jones?" I always felt utterly agitated when referred to by my last name - call me Syd or Sydney, I screamed on the inside.

"I'm always fine," I smiled, justly anyway.

Dr. Kathryn snickered before placing her clipboard onto the desk beside her.

"Ms. Jones, this isn't going to work unless you corporate with me, I need to know what you're feeling. I need honesty."

There was a pause between us - no one moved, only noise coming from the tick of the clock, the lone one that hung hanging, securely, at the top of the door so now I'd actually know the time- 7:12 p.m. July 1st, 2015 - as of now these are facts.

"Does anyone know what happened to Emerson?"

The name sparked a twinkle in her eyes that made her relax into the back of the chair, taking the clipboard in hand, once again noting everything that would come after her name - and I knew in that moment, with that action, that I was on the right track. But, even so, she looked uneasy by the question probably wishing that the quietness would've stayed.

The wicked calmness in the darkness, might be scary but sometimes it's okay, as is.

"Nothing's inconclusive," she admitted, immediately guiding the conversation to something a little more personal-"You two were friends, Emerson and you?"

"No," I felt the small tug at the corners of my lips.

"We kind got into a light - hearted, altercation at group therapy, once."

Dr. Kathryn nodded in acceptance, her face curling into a goofy frown like she had already known but was surprised I admitted it, face never leaving the lined paper before she made her way to her, still, paper piled desk viciously searching for a crumbled up piece of paper that I immediately recognized as Roy's yellow stained drawing paper she always seemed to use.

But I cooed on about how Emerson was the closet thing to a friend I had in this hell hole, that is until Roy came along, friends ,that weren't Reese.

"Her and I were definitely on the track of becoming good friends...maybe even life long friends," I grinned , staring at the blank floorboards.

"If she'd ever made it out of this place, "I whispered to myself.

"Is there going to be a memorial service? Maybe we can have one here...."

"I'm not sure her mother would approve of that."
"Why not?" Stunned.

"Mrs. Porter has her own beliefs about what happened to her daughter." She sighed deeply, inspecting my every move before now revealing the crumbled paper to me.

It showed the picture that was confiscated from me during lock up time - nothing is allowed into rooms, the big nurse reminded everyone on account of my 'sneaky behavior'. These big hairy nurses, were a bit condescending, I imagined they plotted to embarrass us odd teens in blue scrubs, no makeup and pale skin, even while they were on break, standing behind the one sided glass that closed in the cafeteria, searching for a sudden move, like wood rats.

Roy was long gone for before this happened, kiddies facility is in the north wing, so she had a bit of a walk - and kiddies lockup time was an hour before mine. Keep it, she insisted, I continued to stare in disbelief, utterly shocked by what I was looking at.

"Wh...where'd you get the idea?" I choked out.

Roy looked a bit scared by my reaction, she pointed to the bunny and said, "He was at my 8th birthday party! It was really fun!"

"How old are you now?"

"8 and an half"

"Don't you find it peculiar, though, the drawing of the bunny?" I spoke before she had a chance to reveal the paper to me.

She shifted, her polished knees moving from right to left, "I don't."

No.

"When I came into this place, Dr. Kathryn, I thought I was the only one seeing this bunny," I leaned forward as a way to emphasize the following - "I'm not the only one, meaning I am not crazy. So, I can go home, you can call my mom to tell her just that and I can return to normalcy."

Dr. Kathryn stared at me with a weird eye, a you-gotta-be - kidding face , "Sydney, that's not an option."

That is certainly not what I expected to hear, obviously the bunny is real - you don't draw something like this in great detail, unwavering, preciseness. Markings, unexpectedly clear. Imaginations are strong, but this type of accuracy just doesn't happen.

"But, I'm perfectly fine. I'm perfect!"

"Sydney, plea-"

"I just want to get the hell out of here, you selfish bitch because I'm fine! Perfect!"

"Fun?" I spoke, wide eyed.

"Yeah it brought this little pink basket, filled with tiny chocolates. Mommy would let Winter and I eat them all day. I had so much fun!"

"I've seen this bunny too," I swallowed the lump in my throat, wanting not to destroy how she felt about this bunny ,but to let her know my encounter was nothing like hers.

She stood wide eyed against the circled tables in the group room.

"This is why I'm here." I spoke, softly.

"The bunny is your dad?!" She gushed, "because I've never seen him out of costume!"

I shook my head, viciously, "no!"

"I've been seeing this bunny around since my seventeenth birthday." I confessed. "My mom came home and found me curled up in our driveway, crying, about this bunny." My finger almost tearing through the paper, as I reminisced on the first time my eyes met the dark circles in the pink bunny's head.

"The bunny told me, I was its best friend," she smiled a pretty smile, a kid smile - one that hasn't been destroyed by our world.

And that's the damnedest thing about seeing in the light, too many people are standing in it, so what exactly do you focus on.