"A few years ago, my mother was admitted to the hospital...she'd broken her leg after a car crash that her and my father had been in. I was worried sick for her. They told me she'd be okay, and that I could come to see her, so my father brought me that evening after I had finished my homework."

   "It was standing next to a little boy's bed. An angel. At first, when I saw it, I thought I was going crazy. That maybe the stress had gone to my head and was making me see things. In the room next to mother's, there was a little boy who had fallen from Lord knows what...his head was bandaged up pretty well, and his leg was in a splint. This angelic being was stroking his cheek gently, as if to give him some reassurance that he would be okay...and then it stopped."

   "It stopped, and looked right at me."

   "I tried to tell my Mom, and I think she wanted to believe me, but-- she just didn't understand that I wasn't joking this time, that I really meant what I said..." Lorraine's voice started to break.

   "The nurses said nothing, but I could tell by the looks on their faces that they didn't want to have anything to do with me. They were scared, Ed," she looked up at him with tears speckling her eyes. "They looked at me like I had some sort of disease."

   "I eventually found out that the boy had fallen out of a tree, and wasn't supposed to be on that floor for much longer. They had taken him there to fix his leg. The blow to his head was the greater risk. I heard them say that he wouldn't survive, but I almost wonder if that's true...I keep  thinking that he could've gone to Heaven, and that's why the angel was there, but something in my gut tells me that he survived."

   "I quickly learned that no one could ever understand what I saw, not even the Priest. I kept my mouth shut after being chided for trying to warn a woman I highly considered to be the kindest person I ever met," her gaze darkened. "Her child died that year."

   "I saw something else--something beautiful...when I met you. You-- you make me feel like I should be telling you this even though I hardly know a thing about you and you probably think I'm crazy, or looking for attention..."

   "I believe you," he said.

   "What?" she replied, her voice edged with disbelief.

   "When I was a boy, I saw something...a spirit of some sort, hiding under my bed. It's hair was gray and stained with blood--" he stuttered, letting the words spill out of his mouth. "I tried to tell my father...he only pushed me back into my room and told me to face my fears," his breath hitched in his throat, as if this statement was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. "In the end, it was driven away, I assume by my prayers."

   She glared at him, judging his expressions carefully. Her gaze was hurt. She whimpered, "Are you making fun of me?"

   "I swear, I'm not," he rebutted swiftly. "If you trust anyone, then please, let it be me," he begged, taking her hand in his. Her face was flushed with color.

   "Ed, there's something evil in this house."

   "What?"

   "Something is stalking me. I saw a woman at the doorway when I first got here. Then, there was a man in the restroom holding a bloodied knife," she explained, gripping his hand fearfully. "When I went to breakfast this morning, a boy was there, staring at me and asking for food. I didn't know what to do."

   "Are they speaking to you?"

   "Hardly. When we came in after I got kicked, I heard a woman's voice in my ear. She was talking to a man called Norman."

   He froze. "Do you know anyone called Norman?"

   She shook her head. "I don't, but Clare might," she remarked thoughfully. "How are we going to tell her?" he asked. "She doesn't know about my visions. She'll think I'm badly injured or insane."

   "We don't have to tell her," he said. "In fact, it would probably be safer if she didn't know. We can just act like we're curious about the history of the place. If we find out anything unusual about it, we can go from there and decide if we need the Priest."

   Lorraine shrugged. "How are we going to get Father Gordon out here without alarming Clare?"

   "We'll figure out a way, I promise. In the meantime, it's really late. Maybe we should get some rest."

   Lorraine glanced at the clock on the wall. It read eleven o'clock. She yawned, feeling suddenly tired.

   They came out of the room like nothing was wrong. Clarice seemed a bit irritated at the fact that they had been together so long, and insisted on knowing what kind of conversation had taken place between the two.

   "Nothing serious, Ed just had a bad dream, and I'm still kinda getting over whatever the doctor gave me."

   Clare didn't seem convinced, yet was too tired to argue.

   They waited until she had left the room to say goodnight to each other.

   "Goodnight Ed," she said, staring down at her bare feet.

   "Sleep well, Lorraine," he said, calling her by her first name only. She smiled.

   They started to walk away from each other and go to separate rooms. Lorraine carried a suffocating feeling in her chest; it seemed as though the words forced themselves out of her mouth.

   "Ed, please stay with me," she muttered.

   He looked surprised.

   "I--I just want someone in the same room with me right now. My head is spinning after our talk, and I'm afraid something's going to crush me in my sleep."

   "I'll stay with you," he replied, in a somewhat awkward manner. "Where do you want me?"

   "I'll pull a matress in here. One of us can sleep on it. You-- you can pick first."

   "I- I think you should take the matress." He said, thinking that it might be the more comfortable option.

   Fifteen minutes later, Ed was laying on the matress in the floor. Lorraine took the couch after a slightly heated arguement over who should be more comfortable than the other. "You're the guest," she grumbled. "You should get the matress."

   Ed would do anything to please her. He could care less about who got the matress; he had a perfect view of the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on.