Silvie

I led the way in, heart beating like the hooves of a galloping horse. 

Looking back, I saw that Sienna's face was clouded-she was battling an attack. 

"Sienna." 

She snapped out of it.

"This way," I said, in a whisper. I was moving toward a staircase. Of course we'd have to climb a flight of rickety stairs. 

The building looked to be an old apartment. Gingerly, I took the first stair. My shoe left a print in the dust of the step. Another. This one creaked. Another. Silence. Another. I realized that I couldn't hear Sienna behind me Quickly, I turned, and nearly bumped into her. She was right behind me. 

"Sorry," I mumbled. This place made me on edge-and for good reason, if my heart told me anything.

I turned around and began to climb the steps again. The flight seemed to be never-ending. 

Suddenly, the sickening sound of rotten boards splitting came from Sienna's position behind me. I heard my friend yelp.

I whirled around. The stair had fallen under Sienna's weight, and she was attempting to get her leg free from where it had fallen through where the step had been.

We both knew that if she moved too much, the step she was leaning on could break through too. 

Warily, I leaned forward, offering her my hand. She took it, gripping it with fingers strengthened by terror. 

I closed my eyes and began to heave her up. The stairs groaned painfully. I wondered whose would fall through first-hers or mine. Then she was through, and we took off up the stairs, no longer having the nerve to be tentative. 

Somehow, we arrived at the top safely. We stopped to catch our breath. Sienna was trembling all over, and her forehead glistened-as if she had exerted herself far more than just climbing a flight of stairs-no matter how perilous. 

"It's harder to resist the attacks here, isn't it?" I asked her, feeling sick.

She only nodded. 

"I'll be here." I took her shaking hand.

I knew that we had to go down the hall on our left, but it was dark as-as an old room in an abandoned apartment should be. And I knew that, somewhere, at the end of that hall, was the Thing. Whatever it was that we were searching for. 

I began to tremble now. I took a step forward, then paused.

"Sienna, whatever happens to us-I'm not angry at you anymore. I understand."

Sienna almost smiled. "I know. Thank you."

We turned to face the darkness.

-Silvie 

Sienna

There were no attacks in the night, and I slept well for the first time in too long. Silvie was here. My best friend was close by.
We set out again early the next morning, fast, hoping that our soaked-from-the-morning-dew clothes would dry soon.
I watched Silvie closely as she peddled furiously in front of me. I had asked Silvie (twice) how she knew where we were going. Her answers were always muddled. So far, I had figured out that the Man, the one who had visited her in the night before, had told her where to go...or something like that. I just knew that I was supposed to follow her.
We biked all day, eating some of the food we had brought during breaks.
During one such time, I asked Silvie "How much longer do you think we'll be traveling?"
She inspected her cracker. "I don't know exactly. Soon."
I grimaced as I bit into a pear. I hate pears. After forcing myself to swallow, I said, "Well, I hope it's soon. I'm sick of pears. And these ones are mushy."
Silvie smiled and started packing things again. I helped.
We rode all day.
I was beginning to think that I was going to wear holes in my tennis shoes just from peddling.
My back hurt from riding, and I was sick of sitting on the bike seat. I tried to remember what a bed felt like. And a pillow-all warm and soft and cozy, and a warm, fuzzy blanket, and sleeping in pajamas. I stopped trying to remember. It hurt too much.
It was the next morning that they increased. My writing attacks. (That is what we dubbed them.) After the forth one (which Silvie successfully stopped) Silvie said gravely. "We're getting close."
I was panting too much to reply, but I nodded my head. I hoped so. I was sick of these attacks.
We entered a city later in the day. I've never much liked cities, but biking through one was even worse than driving, or even walking.
Silvie seemed to know where she was going though, thank goodness, and by dusk we were slipping through alleyways.
I wonder who is causing this? What is causing it? What does Silvie have in mind? 
My front tire bumped something and startled me out of my thoughts. Silvie had stopped. I looked up.
We had stopped in front of a  ramshackle building that looked to be made just for storing dirt.
"Don't you think you could have picked out a better place for a rest stop, Silvie?" I asked uneasily.
She didn't turn back, but said solemnly, "This isn't a rest spot. We're here."

Silvie's point of view

I don't know how long we rode. I didn't know where I was going. I just knew that we were supposed to go there. At every turn I was more sure of the correct path, and that I was on it. Somehow. To this day I don't know how.
Finally though, I realized that Sienna was growing weary. I was tired too, though not quite so tired as I would usually have been.
We had long ago passed the buildings of the city. Now we rode on a dirt road in between seemingly endless fields of grass. I stopped and waited for Sienna to catch up.
When she did, we let the bikes fall beside us and sat down. I drew my sweater closer about me and pulled the hood up. It was chilly, as morning was approaching.
"Let's eat something."
There was no reply.
I looked toward my friend. Panic shot up me at what I saw. That same blank, and yet frantic look filled her eyes. She sat completely motionless, except for her lips, which were forming words that I couldn't hear.
"Sienna," my voice sounded hollow.
She didn't flinch. No recognition showed on her face. What is she doing now? I thought frantically.
"Sienna!" I said, louder this time. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to calm down. Unwillingly, I placed shaky hands on her shoulders. "Sienna," I murmured, "Stop this, right now. This is Silvie."
I heard her gasp and I opened my eyes. It was clear that she saw me now.
"Sienna," I whispered, suddenly weary. "What happened?"
My friend's face was pale, and I knew that it wasn't only because of the morning light. Her voice rasped as she spoke, "I-I was writing in my mind."
My eyes widened in horror as I realized what she had just said. Not only can she write on paper...she can do it in her mind. I tried to sound calm, despite my fear. "So-you don't need paper? It can happen anyways?"
Sienna nodded, looking down.
I swallowed. "It's alright. I stopped you from it." I didn't ask her what she had been writing of. I didn't want to know. "As long as I can stop you, we'll be just fine. I'll just have to keep a better watch on you. Let's rest for a while-in the field. Morning will soon come, and we'll need to be on our way again."
I just hope our parents send the police out looking for us. 
"Thank you, Silvie."
I smiled, once again reminded that she was my best friend. She was still Sienna, no matter what. No writing attack could change that. I still loved her. She still loved me.
That bond would serve to assist us in our quest for writer's block.

Intermission

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Silvie/Sienna

Sienna's Point of View

"Wait, Silvie, let me get this straight-there was a man, in our room?!" She looked confused. "You didn't seem him?" I shook my head, equally confused. "What did you see?" I sighed. "I didn't see anything! I was asleep!" She pushed back the blanket. "Alright. It doesn't matter. Now you know what he said. We need to get out of here. Now. I don't exactly know where, or how, or why, but we just do." I stared hard at her for a moment. "Silvie-you are expecting me to follow you out to who knows where who knows how, following some figment which I have never seen?" "You expected me to trust you-that you weren't doing it on purpose-that this whole-writer's...problem...thing...wasn't your fault. I did. You need to decide if you are going to trust me, Sienna, and right now. If you aren't willing, then don't follow me. This is going to happen a lot from here on out." I took a breath and nodded. "Alright. Of course I'll follow you. Always." She nodded bluntly. "Alright. Let's get started then. Do you have an extra bike?" I didn't question her. "Yes. They're in the shed. If we sneak out this window we could get there without waking my parents up." Silvie already had the window half open and was crawling through. I ran up behind her. "Wait." she paused, half way through. "We need some food." I swallowed. "I'll get some. I know where everything is. You wait for me out there-get the bikes ready." A moment later, she had climbed through, and I was left to face the darkness. I made my way slowly down the stairs, avoiding the two bottom ones which creaked. Avoiding the refrigerator because of the light which would shine out, I went for the pantry. Grabbing whatever was closest, I took as much as I could carry.

We met up in the shed and I dumped all the food into the baskets hooked up to our bikes. Taking a breath, I glanced at Silvie, seeking to be reaffirmed. She nodded, and then stared straight ahead. "I don't know when we'll be back," she said, almost to herself. And then we slipped out the side door of the shed and started into the dim light of morning.
We peddled hard and quickly found a path leading to who knows where. Silvie lead. She had an expression of fierce concentration on her face, which was sometimes broken with that of conflicting thoughts.
Where on earth are we going? I paused. Well...wherever it is...I'm going there, no questions asked.