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. 

Silvie's Point of View

We stood there for a few seconds before I finally spoke up, "Sienna, we have to find out who is doing this and what we are up against."
Sienna nodded slowly. "What do you propose we do then?"
I thought for a moment. "I don't know. I just... don't know. But we'll find a way."
The rest of the day was spent in quiet conversation-neither of us left the room except for supper, which we ate very little of-we had hardly any appetite.

That night, I slept close to Sienna, for I was overcome and overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts. Where do we go? How do we get there? What do I have to do to help Sienna?
Suddenly, a light broke through my pondering. I recognized it with a leap of joy as being the man's-it struck me that I didn't know his name.
Light and beauty cloaked him like a garment and I once again felt the fear and peace that, mixed together, felt...right.
"My child, you have questions?"
I nodded, rising from the bed to fall to my knees before him. "But first-what is your name?"
The man smiled benevolently down at me. "You need not know my name, child. I say this for your own good. The knowledge would be too much for you-not yet. Know me as the Helper, the Comforter, the Strength. Now, what are your questions, dear child?"
I knew that this man knew-he knew my questions which I would voice, and the ones which I was too ashamed to admit even to myself-he knew me completely. A queer thought struck me then. He knows all of my faults-and yet-he still cares for me? I couldn't understand it, but I didn't need to. "Who are we fighting? how do we defeat it? What do we do?"
"You fight something which shall have no other name than Evil. Only Sienna can defeat it, for it is her battle. You are permitted to assist her, but in the end, she must make the choice. I will show you where to go-you shall know the correct path."
And then he was gone, and I realized with a shock that I hadn't even left the bed, and was still lying beside Sienna. Twisting in the bed, I shook her shoulder gently. "Sienna, I need to tell you something."

From Both Points of View

The next morning, I woke and quickly ate breakfast. Silvie was silent, and I knew wondered what she was pondering on. She picked at her food and ate hardly a bite.

After breakfast we went to my bedroom. I felt the urge again, and before I knew it, my pencil was moving in my hand. My fingers seemed to flow with energy. It started in my brain, like a horrible itchy rash. I knew it was to come on paper. I knew it was to be on Silvie. I saw the pain in it. My eyes started to water as this rash appear on the paper.
The man jabbed with his sword, injuring the girl. For a moment the thought struck me that the writing wasn't even that good, but then common sense caught up with me and I realized what I was writing. This is Silvie!
I was dimly aware of her crying my name, screaming at me to stop. But I couldn't. I couldn't stop.

{from Silvie's point of view}
"Sienna, stop! Stop writing! Please, Sienna, stop!" I felt chills trace up and down my spine as I saw my fate being written out before me. And then I felt it; a sharp pain in my leg. I was afraid to look down. I had taken my eyes off of Sienna's pencil for a moment, and I didn't know how serious the injury was. Blood stained my jeans, and I felt my legs give way. Falling to the ground with a sharp cry, I grabbed Sienna's shirt and wrapped it around the injury tightly. After a time, I dared pull it away. It wasn't too bad-only about a thumb's width deep, and as long as the length of a thumb. I could probably get away with a tight bandage and not a word said about it. I had long decided that no one could learn about this, for fear that Sienna would be sent to one of the insane asylum that I had read about in my fantasy books. Now, I was having second guesses. Why does she want to hurt me? I am her best friend! I thought she loved me!

It was then that I realized that she was staring at me in horror. The pencil had fallen from her hand, and she was gaping at me. She mouthed, tears coming to her eyes, "I am so sorry, Silvie. I-I can't-" She trailed off, letting her head fall hard on the desk, perhaps has penance.

Ignoring her, I stood, and limped painfully to the far corner. There I sat, fighting the anger which screamed in my mind. How could Sienna do this to me? I don't want to even know her anymore. I wish we had never met!

I felt a sob rising in me. Trying to fight it, I opened my eyes and turned my gaze toward the window. But they stopped as a flash of white caught them. Before me stood an aged man, clad all in white, as beautiful as the morning and as wise as the dawn. I knew that the instant that I saw him. I began to tremble, and lowered my eyes to the ground. I couldn't look at him. I just couldn't. But then a voice, soft and gentle, full of unimaginable love, broke into my fears. "My child. Do not be afraid."
I looked up then, for I wanted to see this glorious figure which was like a solace and a hiding place.
"Why are you crying?"
I knew that this man knew why I was crying. But he wanted me to tell him. So I did. "It's Sienna! She's trying to kill me or-or-do something terrible to me!"
His face softened. "She is battling a grave evil, dear one, one that she is too weak to hold fast against."
I felt my heart sink. I had hoped for help from this man. "Then what can I do? I'm afraid of her!"
"My child, she is still your Sienna. She loves you and you could not understand the pain that this causes her. Do not hold back your understanding-I know that you long to give it. Do not let your anger get in the way. She loves you, Silvie. You hold much sway on her mind. If you hold strong, you can help her."
"But how-" But suddenly I realized that he was gone. The light had gone, the beauty shattered. I was alone. With Sienna. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to do this? I need to know how!

{Sienna again}

I felt heartbroken. My heart cried, Silvie, if only you knew! If only you felt what I feel! I don't want to hurt you! I would sooner hurt myself than you, but I can't help it!
But I couldn't. She wouldn't know that I was speaking from my utter heart. I wouldn't blame Silvie for hating me. I hated myself right then.
She was curled up in the corner, an odd expression on her face, gazing at the wall as if seeing beauty itself. I didn't even want to wonder about it. I didn't care.
Suddenly the feeling came again, sharper this time. My mind screamed in protest, but my hand obeyed.
My misery intensified as the words turned to sentences. I was hurting Silvie again, but this time, it was ten times worse.
I realized that she was at my side, but only dimly.


{Silvie}
I sat up slowly, taking a shaky breath, and limped toward Sienna. I had to talk this over with her. But then her eyes glazed over-an all too recognizable look now, and she began to write furiously.
I quickened my pace, and soon was at her side. My eyes widened as I saw what she was saying. I began to grow frantic as I read the beginning of the terrible sickness which I would soon have.
Willing my voice not to shake, I said, "Sienna, stop right now. I will not let you do this to me. Stop this. Win this battle, Sienna! Be strong! Listen to me! Don't you remember me? I am Silvie!"

{Sienna}
The voice broke into my thoughts like thunder on a still day. "I will not let you do this to me. Stop this. Win this battle, Sienna! Listen to me! Don't you remember me? I am Silvie!"
The urge only intensified, but the picture of my friends distressed, pale face was engraved in my mind. I wanted to stop, more than anything I wanted to stop. It took all of my strength, but with a jerk my hand was free. The pencil dropped. I tore the page into a million pieces.
I turned my eyes to Silvie. She was crying. I hugged her-since this terrible ordeal had started I had wanted to do it, but hadn't dared. Now I did. And Silvie hugged back.