Hello everyone, thank you if you're still reading this, I'm sorry I've taken so Long to update this story, I absolutely love writing for NOES but i don't know, it's just been busy lately. I'm trying to squeeze the last chapters out of my brain, but i just seem to be so tied up lately, that i'm not sure what to write, and i never have time. If you'll forgive me, than i present to you another Chapter. Enjoy.

To describe the next morning, it was a cross between difficult and impossible. Of the five senses used to describe something, only one maybe two were useful. Try all you want, but describing the smell of her own blood was a challenge, how the wafting scent was like bricks rusty nails and mud. Of the sound of her screams, were earsplitting, as they pierced anyone within a mile of her home. The taste of her dry mouth, because she just couldn't generate saliva, and her tongue felt thick and tasted like stale bread and flour. Or the squishy feel of his heart in one hand, and the slippery feel of blood running down her arms, and abdomen.

What she could describe was the morning sun peaking in her window, and how disturbed she looked all covered in her own blood, and another mans. How scared she looked as she saw her reflection in the mirror. Or how broken and disturbed his heart looked as she held it in her hand, content on never letting go. However, what she couldn't describe and envision still existed.

Her excruciating pain from the blood pour of her wounds as she walked still remained. The feel of her red liquid shoes on the floor as she forced herself up and out of bed burned into her. The sound of a police siren on her front lawn rang and echoed, with or without her acknowledgement. The smell of warm coffee and the sound of a shattering coffee mug, which came from downstairs, were obvious and present.

She could hear stomping up the stairs, and knew it was her parents and police. Here she stood covered in blood and holding someone else's heart. She didn't have time to hesitate, she had to act quickly, and at most she had 10 seconds to dispose of this thing before her mother slammed in and screamed. Before the police saw her and figured out her entire ruse.

-It had been 3 years since that day, Anne Fillish was never figured out. She hid the heart in a jewelry box, and didn't say anything after that. The police drew conclusions that the murderer climbed in through the window and attempted to kill her while she slept, but wasn't able to finish the job. Anne was taken to the hospital and treated, and the only person she would speak to was Angela, who was released 3 days after Anne's arrival.

The police couldn't get anything from her, and Angela refused to say repeat anything of the conversations she had with Anne. Due to her silence and depression the Fillish parents suggested she go to counseling. She didn't argue, and a week later she was introduced to Dr. Abigail Seward. At first she was silent, and never said anything, but her parents didn't stop the counseling.

Dr. Abigail was actually able to get something out of Anne by rendering her actions when she said certain words. Anne was lost, and confused, scared for what was to come later in life. Other than that she really couldn't help her in any way, she could talk and reassure and comfort, but no words came from Anne Fillish.

Until exactly 3 years later from the day of his death, she looked at Abigail with these fearful eyes, and a trembling lip, and in a small and scared voice, asked, "Is love a weakness?" the whisper startled Abigail, but none the less she answered the best of her knowledge. "It depends on who you love." Her voice was confident, and her words were true, which seemed to worry Anne.

She didn't say anything about the subject after that, but from there she spoke. She told Abigail everything about almost anything, but never mentioned those nights in Springwood. She spoke of how lost and alone she felt, but never why, she spoke of her friends and her childhood. Anything that came to mind, they were like friends in a way, Anne brought her Christmas gifts and birthday gifts everyday for the next 4 years, and Abigail did the same.

They talked about her job as a photographer for Lacey Charms, and how rich the job made her, and how much she loved it. For hours they talked about Anne's first apartment and her first house, and pets she had. How she never dated, and she didn't really talk to anyone unless completely needed, and when Abigail asked why, the young brunette responded, "I haven't much to say to anyone, a few years ago everyone thought I was a murderer." That was the only time she mentioned the murders in Springwood, and they only interested Abigail more.

By the time Anne was 24, 6 years into her counseling, Abigail got her to speak more of the murders. How she was a suspect, and how she met her best friend because she was a victim. How she lost her other best friend because she didn't trust Anne. From there the conversations escalated about those nights, how she felt about the murders, how scared she felt, how dangerous the world was.

One day, a week before the end of her counseling, Abigail had grown wary of being around Anne, and one day she pointed to the little piece of glass around the younger's neck, and asked "Be honest with me Anne, What does the F on your necklace stand for." The little piece of glass Anne had carried with her for all those years, the only thing that could give her away, and it was finally noticed.

"It's for the only man I will ever love." She showed a slight confidence in her words and a bit of a shine in her eyes. Abigail became frightened and ended the session early, trying to piece together all that she'd learned from Anne. Trying to solve the big mystery behind this girl, how she hadn't spoken to almost everyone in three years, and when she finally spoke to an outsider, it was about Love.

And the glass necklace, how she said it stood for the man she loved. She didn't speak to anyone, because they accused her of murder, and when she did speak, it was of love. Silence, the murders, this man she loved, it was all connected in some way. Could it be that the man she loved was the murderer, but where would the silence come in. Everything was in her mind, but nothing pieced together.

7 days later, the morning of Anne's last day of counseling, she heard a thump as she awoke. It came again several seconds later, and another, in a rhythm, evenly spaced. She jolted up, toward the desk in her bedroom, and toward the sleek wood box, that she kept on the far edge. Slowly she peaked open the lid, and peered deep into the mostly hollow box, her heart nearly stopped.

- Abigail tried to remain calm when Anne walked into her office, but something about her expression left her breathless. Anne neither seemed happy nor scared, but she had a glitter in her eye, and a crinkle in her forehead and brow. It was as if she couldn't make up her mind about if she was happy for frightened. And something in the way she walked, and perched herself on the edge of her chair.

"Good morning, Doctor." Anne's voice was happy, but masked, as If she didn't want anyone to know.

"Hello Anne," She tried not to sound suspicious or scared.

"I fear this may be our last session." The brunette spoke in a low tone, in an attempt to sound unhappy to be leaving her. However, it was obvious to see through. "Your parents are stopping the counseling?" this cause a smirk from Anne, oh no, this wasn't her parents hand; she had to finish something she started 7 years ago.

She removed herself from the chair, and repositioned, regaining comfort, and pretending not to notice as her doctor flinched. "No, there is a promise I made to someone I must keep, some I love very much."

Abigail hesitated to respond, but looked Anne straight in the eye. "Anne, I can help you." She had no clue what she was talking about, but it was the best thing she could say. In return the younger laughed, but only for a few seconds, and she wore this grin, that was both happy and malicious, like she was waiting for something bad to happen and knowing when it was going to come.

"No you can't." Anne interjected before her shrink had a chance to go any further, "Even if you could I don't want the help. I made a promise, something I have to honor. I love him." She whispered out in a bit of a wary tone. "I had a dream doctor." She only partly lied,

"About the man I love, he's upset with me. He wants to kill me, and I intend to let him."

"You can fight him Anne." Abigail said.

"I don't want to, I promised him that when he came back I wouldn't fight him, I promised him on the night that I killed him." From here Abigail didn't know if they were still talking about a dream, but she was confused, and scared, and felt unsafe. She pressed on however. "You can forget him, and live in society, with everyone else, pretend this man never came into your life."

Anne jumped from her chair in an angry manner. "Live in society with them? I don't want to be around them. They all deserve the same, death! Every single one of them." She tried to calm herself when she saw how much she had worried Dr. Abigail. "Beside," Anne hugged herself comfortingly, "I can never pretend this man came into my life, all the horrible things he did to me, made me do."

"So why do you love him?" the doctor whispered, not wanting to upset Anne, "You wouldn't understand, there is something about him, he captivated me." She sat back down, facing the doctor, fear creeping up in the elder. All was quiet for a few moments, neither sure what to say next, until Anne started pouring out her story, in very limited detail.

She didn't want her to know anything; Abigail still listened as if her life depended on it. "He came to me one day, demanding my help, with these awful tasks, he forced me to do them, he was stronger, and threatened people I loved. Before long, I knew he was my friend, he protected me, and listened when I spoke, he taught me lessons my parents could never teach. I fell in love with him, and he used it against me, people started calling me a murderer, and they didn't even know of him. He was on my side; he cared about me, even if he didn't love me. He was still a terrible man, no matter how I felt about him, and I needed to stop him."

She hesitated as she felt the tears well up in her eyes, but continued on regardless. "I got rid of him, and promised him, that when he came back I wouldn't fight." By the time she finished she was in tears, and Abigail was frozen in terror and thought. All this time, this is who Anne was; this has been the harmless seeming girl in her office once a week for seven years?

She begged Anne not to go, told her she could help, and told her how scared she was for her. Nevertheless Anne walked out of the office that day, with no intensions of coming back. She persuading Abigail that when someone came to question her, she may tell them anything and everything Anne had released in that office, that she didn't need confidentiality anymore.

That day, since it would be her last, Anne lived like no other. She visited Lewis, and laid a flower on his grave. She visited Angela, and told her she'd be leaving, and couldn't tell her much, but she'd miss her. She took out her last roll of film, and took a picture of everything around her, taking in every bit of scenery, and long breaths of air. She felt like this was suicide, allowing for someone to kill her, but when she closed her eyes, and laid her head on the pillow, she knew exactly what it was. Love, a beautiful and unrequited love.

Sorry again for taking like 6 or 7 months to update, if anyone is still reading this, I have one maybe two more chapters, but with everything that's going on, i have no clue how long it's going to take.