<strong>Emily Fitzgerald (mid 2008, age 16)</strong><br/><strong>Location</strong>: The apartment<br/><strong>Tag</strong>: Sully<br/><hr/>Emily nods against his shoulder.  "We have a chance," she says simply, a soft sigh over his last words.  She is familiar with the taking of tolls... she's been paying with her youth for long enough.  The flashlight in her hands twists on and off idly, creating a little pool on the carpet.<br/><br/>"I saw someone," she admits quietly, as if afraid of bringing it to the light, but allowing it out in the dark.  "Please, don't tell the others... because I don't understand it all yet."  She wipes her eyes with one hand-- not tearful, just... afraid to say it.  "I saw a woman, that night at the barrens.  A woman I used to know.  She was really nice, but her life was, just, awful.  You know."<br/><br/>She shrugs at that, breaking the contact for a moment as she draws her feet under her to cross her ankles, resting her elbows on her spread knees.  "She was helping me.  She showed us which way to go... like she'd been there, all along, waiting for that chance."  She shrugs.  "She's dead, I know it.  Maybe I just-- the stress, you know.  But maybe there really is something<i>good</i>out there too."  Sighing softly, she fidgets with the light more. "I know that... other one, the dark lady.  She's real," a faint shiver, perceptible even as they don't quite touch, "she's definitely real, and she's evil, I think.  But don't you think, maybe, there's some good out there too?"