Author's Note: This idea came to me after finishing my first fanfiction with Heather from SH3. This is another story involving Heather, told from another's point of view. I'm working hard to do a good job on Heather's character and describing the eerie environments of Silent Hill. Please comment and let me know how I can improve the story.
Thanks.
Disclaimer: Silent Hill is owned by Konami.
Chapter 1: The Lonely Girl
It was on the day of Monday, September 4th when Rayne-Marie Cramer entered Portland High School for her Junior year. The last two years at this school were filled with defeating jeers and taunts from her peers, why should this year be any different? Also, having ordinary brown hair and eyes didn't help her make a long lasting impression on anyone.
Being lost in her thoughts, she bumped into someone. This particular girl was someone she knew since childhood. Her classmate spun around, her long wavy blonde hair stuck together with the large amount of hairspray. With her cold blue eyes, she stared down at Rayne-Marie.
"Excuse you! Do you have a problem with walking straight?" she tossed out the insult.
Rayne-Marie kept her eyes down as she shook her head. Continuing quickly down the hall, the socially awkward girl made her way to her homeroom. Actually, she felt embarrassed. That girl she pumped into, Sherrie Cook was still at odds with her, and had been since fifth grade. The girls used to be good friend, in fact Rayne-Marie had many friend before attending middle school. What happened? Rayne-Marie barely remembered. Maybe it was best that way.
When the session for the day was over, the students forced their way out of the school. As Rayne-Marie pushed her way through the crowded hallways, there was a lot of commotion from the other side of assembling students. Swarms of teenagers flocked to the shouting of two female students. Rayne-Marie was able to peer through two boys standing side by side to see the same girl she bumped into earlier, Sherrie, taunting another girl she didn't recognize. Her short blonde hair lay lazily on her head. Her fashion sense was different, wearing a white vest with a green skirt touching a few inches above her knees, along with brown high boots.
"Get out of my face!" the new girl shouted.
"Oh, don't be that way," Sherrie innocently returned. "I'm just trying to understand how you can still come to this school, you know after being diagnosed as "crazy," and knowing your father sleeps with whores."
The new girl shoved Sherrie hard into the wall.
"How dare you talk about my father like that! You stupid bitch!" she screamed.
Rayne-Marie moved around the two boys to see the fight more clearly. Just as she did, Vice Principal Mc Lane broke in between the girls.
"Stop this right now!" she exerted her authority. The tall gray haired woman stared daggers at the girl in the vest.
"So, what is your problem this time?" she tore at the girl.
"You're seriously going to blame this on me? I feel insulted! I didn't start this!"
"You know what? I don't want to hear it! Let's go!" Mrs. Mc Lane herded the new girl into the office. There was a lull of any communication from the students. The woman turned around, "I don't know why you all are standing around. Go home!" As she moved into the office shutting the door, everyone dispersed from the hallway. Rayne-Marie gazed sadly at the door to the main office for a moment. That poor girl. Why was she only being punished? Maybe she shouldn't have pushed Sherrie, but she did say something really bad about the other girl and her father. After a moment, Rayne-Marie turned and exited the building.
One week passed and the teacher now eased out of beginning of the school year mode and stared pouring on the work. During second hour, Rayne-Marie received a pass to go see her counselor. It was pretty ambiguous for the reason for her visit. She walked into the counselor's office, seeing one of the secretaries at her desk.
"Um...I'm supposed to see my counselor," Rayne-Marie said giving the lady the pass.
"Okay, I'll let her know you're here. Just have a seat." The girl sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Looking across from her, she saw the same girl from earlier that week. Strange enough, she wore the exact same outfit she had on previously. But now, Rayne-Marie could see the orange wrist bands the girl wore. The urge came over Rayne-Marie to want to start of conversation with this girl. Just say hi. Her thoughts coaxed her. But she couldn't open her mouth to form the words. Maybe she could do something to get her attention and then start of conversation. She tossed her schedule towards where the other girl sat. The piece of paper slowly glided down to the floor. But the new girl didn't notice. She seemed preoccupied with her phone.
"Um...excuse me..." Rayne-Marie tried. "Can you get that for me?"
The girl looked up, "What?" she asked, then she looked down at the slip. Quickly, the girl picked up the paper and handed it back to Rayne-Marie before returning to her phone. That didn't go as planned. Maybe she needed to be more direct. However, she didn't get the chance as she was called by the secretary. The woman directed her to one of the back offices. Rayne-Marie cautiously walked into the small office and took a seat across from her counselor. The heavy set woman with a fifties style hair do busied herself typing on the computer. She didn't speak a word to Rayne-Marie for what seemed an uncomfortable amount of time to her. Finally, the woman gave attention to her. Taking Rayne-Marie's schedule, she aggressively scribbled something almost illegible on it.
"You're first and second hour are being switched," she spoke curtly. The words appeared to read, Transfer-Overflow.
"What does this mean?" she asked the woman. But no response was received. Instead, she returned to her computer.
"You can go now," the woman said.
Feeling an awkward confusion, Rayne-Marie headed for the exit. As she left the office, she noticed that the girl in the vest already left.
The next day, Rayne-Marie walked to her new first hour. Before, she had History first hour, now she started the day with English. The classroom already was full of students either standing or sitting on their desks gossiping. She took a seat in the third row. Looking around the room, there were a lot of people she didn't know by name. Her eyes turned to at least one familiar person, the blonde who wore the vest, only today, she wore a shirt with strange symbols on the back. The girl sat diagonally from her. She looked busy, writing in her notebook. As she watched, the big hair, crude mouth Sherrie danced over with two other girls Rayne-Marie also remembered, Eileen and Kylee.
"Hey freak! Are you writing more suicide poems? Just do it and get it over with!" Sherrie smeared. In response to the taunt, the girl twisted around abruptly, stabbing Sherrie's hand with her pencil. Crying out, she retorted, "The hell? You crazy skank!"
"You're lucky it wasn't my knife!" the other girl grumbled.
The teacher waked in oddly enough after the drama. Sherrie rushed over to the woman who seemed dumbfounded that something just happened.
"Ms. Summers, look at what she did!" Sherrie complained.
The short curly brunette inspected her student's wound, the punctured skin mark from a pencil stab.
"How did...?" she began to ask. Sherrie pointed to the short hair blonde still writing. Ms. Summers walked over to her desk. Kneeling down, she sweetly looked at the girl and tapped her desk. But she never looked up at the teacher.
"Heather...are you having a bad day again?" The girl didn't answer. "Would it help seeing Dr. Brandson?"
"No!" Heather shot back. "I don't need to see him..."
Ms. Summers whispered something to the girl. Her patience was admirable, especially since everyone else coming into contact with that girl had a raging fit. The teacher's coaxing seemed to work as the girl got up and collected her belongings. There was dead silence as the girl left.
After class, Rayne-Marie slowly approached Ms. Summer's desk where she sorted through a huge stack of papers.
"Ms...uh...Summers..." she stumbled trying to get over the shyness of addressing a teacher. The woman looked up. Rayne-Marie handed her the changed schedule. She was supposed to do this at the beginning of class, but...
"Oh, okay, you just transferred into my class. Rayne-Marie," she read the name. "Yep, English 11, first hour. Did you have any questions?"
"I...wondered about the girl you talked to...the one that left at the beginning of class..." Ms. Summers more expected a question relating to class material, not of another student. She glanced oddly at Rayne-Marie with a half open mouth as if searching for the words to say.
"Uh...are you talking about Heather Morris?" she asked.
"Is she...really crazy?" Rayne-Marie risked asking. The woman stood up carefully formulating what she should say. "Um...Heather is really a unique girl...she's a wonderful writer. I don't think she's crazy. She just needs a friend. Maybe if you see her in the hall, you can say 'hi' to her." Rayne-Marie nodded, but to tell the truth, Heather kind of scared her a little.
"Okay," she shyly answered.
Later that day, as Rayne-Marie walked to her fifth hour, she saw Heather waking quickly down the hallway towards the main office. After passing the office door, she burst into a half run towards the double doors leading out of the school. Why is she leaving now? School is still in session. Maybe she's sick? Rayne-Marie tried to catch up with her. She was ten feet away from the exit doors as Heather already pushed open the door on the far left side. She rushed outside to where a four door sedan waited for her. The car drove off as she closed the door. As Rayne-Marie stood watching the car disappear into traffic, she really hoped for a chance to talk to Heather. But she had to be braver next time. Just say hi to her! Is that so hard? She chastised herself with thoughts. But it was hard. The biggest reason it was so hard plagued Rayne-Marie. There was something very disturbing about Heather. It wasn't just her over the top actions of shoving Sherrie or stabbing her with the pencil. It was the fact that Rayne-Marie realized that Heather did exactly what she wanted to do to Sherrie for years.