Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Maybe I shouldn't
Ray needs Hugs.
"Willow, hey. I've got to ask you some questions. A technicality, you know?"
He was trying too hard to act her age, she decided. When he was probably mid twenties. Sorta cute, in a 'the guy no-one notices in a movie kind of way. What was she thinking? He wasn't cute at all!
"Yeah fine," she mumbled. "But I'm not mad you know. Honest I'm not. That's what this is, isn't it? A psycho test."
The doctor laughed nervously. "Well no. It's just something we have to do."
"Then get it over with already," she told him bluntly.
"Okay...First question, what's your name?"
"My name?" She asked. "Like, my full name, or my full full name."
"Er..." The doctor was stumped. "Either, no, both."
Willow smiled sardonically. "Full name is Willow Smith. My full full name is Willow Marie Smith. Have you ever worked with teenagers before?"
"Uh...well not really," the doctor stammered.
She smiled faintly, slightly like a shark before it kills the dolphin. "You can tell."
Amazingly the doctor bravely battled on. "How old are you?"
"Fourteen. Is this going to take long?" she asked, itching to be on her own once more.
"Just a few more questions," he said patiently. "Who's the president?"
"Of what?" she enquired. "Maccy D's? My school? Oh sorry," she beamed. "You mean of the U.S.A don't you. Uh...she paused, thinking about it. "George Bush."
"Which one?" the doctor asked immediately.
"What do you mean which one? George H. W. bush, the ONLY President Bush ever." Willow rolled her eyes. The doctor scribbled something down on the clipboard that he held in his hand.
"Last question. Are you pregnant?"
"What!?!" Willow all but screamed. "What kind of a question is that? No, I'm not. And I don't plan to be." She was very offended. How could he even ask something like that? She was only fourteen. She hadn't even had a proper boyfriend. Heck, her second date ever was supposed to have been that day. If it hadn't have been for the accident she'd have been getting ready now.
He nodded gravely. "That's all. Thank you Miss Smith." She watched him go dumbfounded. Just what was going on here?
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"I know I don't know you, but for some reason you know me," Willow began. "Please, please, please get me out of here."
Ray shook his head. "No."
"Please," Willow begged. "If I could I'd go down on my knees but I can't. Please just get me out of here."
"Can't. Anyway where would you go? You can't walk," he reasoned. It was breaking his heart that she didn't recognise him, espeically as it was only last week when she'd agreed to marry him.
"I don't care. Anywhere. Just not here," she pleaded. "They think I'm mad, and they keep asking me who the freaking president is."
Despite himself Ray smiled. "Sorry, no can do."
Willow groaned. "Fine then. Can I ask you questions then? Make a change? Please?" She batted her eyelashes.
Ray sighed. "I guess."
"Yes!" she yelped. "Who are you?"
"Ray."
"Full name?"
"Ray Toro."
"Okay. How do you know me?"
"I met you at a concert."
"Wrong!" she told him. "I've never been to a concert. How old are you?"
"Older than you."
She nodded. "Fair enough. How much older?"
"Several years."
She smiled. "You're not going to tell me are you?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
"Okay...who's your favourite band?
"I like loads. Uh...Misfits, Black Flag."
She grinned. "No way."
"Yes way."
"Me too!"
Ray smiled sadly. She was talking to him, yeah, but this wasn't the Willow he knew and loved. "I'm going to have to go."
She sighed. "Kay. But if my head explodes from the questions I'm blaming you."
He just nodded and strode out of the room. Willow turned her head as a conversation started out side of the room. Interested she began to listen in.
"They said she's got amnesia," said a women's voice from behind the door.
"Well if she think she's fourteen, telling me that I'm old and that she likes the Misfits then I'm guessing she has got amnesia," a man snapped back.
"Ray, come on, calm down. Its no-one's fault," the woman soothed.
"My fiancée thinks she's fourteen when she's in her thirties and the doctor's said it could be permanent and you're telling me to calm down!"
"It's not helping anyone, Ray. Has anyone told Will?" the woman asked.
"No Al," Ray answered. "At the moment I'm still freaking out and the doctor thinks that it's better if one of us tells her, cause we can try and help her remember stuff. But Al." The anger had gone out of his voice and now he sounded broken. "She's asking about her parents. Her parents died in a car crash years ago. When she was fourteen."
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An: I just wanted to point out that this chapter is dedicated to SafeFromRobotsDAMN because she helped with the design of my textiles bag. coughithasM4PMonitcough
"Willow, hey. I've got to ask you some questions. A technicality, you know?"
He was trying too hard to act her age, she decided. When he was probably mid twenties. Sorta cute, in a 'the guy no-one notices in a movie kind of way. What was she thinking? He wasn't cute at all!
"Yeah fine," she mumbled. "But I'm not mad you know. Honest I'm not. That's what this is, isn't it? A psycho test."
The doctor laughed nervously. "Well no. It's just something we have to do."
"Then get it over with already," she told him bluntly.
"Okay...First question, what's your name?"
"My name?" She asked. "Like, my full name, or my full full name."
"Er..." The doctor was stumped. "Either, no, both."
Willow smiled sardonically. "Full name is Willow Smith. My full full name is Willow Marie Smith. Have you ever worked with teenagers before?"
"Uh...well not really," the doctor stammered.
She smiled faintly, slightly like a shark before it kills the dolphin. "You can tell."
Amazingly the doctor bravely battled on. "How old are you?"
"Fourteen. Is this going to take long?" she asked, itching to be on her own once more.
"Just a few more questions," he said patiently. "Who's the president?"
"Of what?" she enquired. "Maccy D's? My school? Oh sorry," she beamed. "You mean of the U.S.A don't you. Uh...she paused, thinking about it. "George Bush."
"Which one?" the doctor asked immediately.
"What do you mean which one? George H. W. bush, the ONLY President Bush ever." Willow rolled her eyes. The doctor scribbled something down on the clipboard that he held in his hand.
"Last question. Are you pregnant?"
"What!?!" Willow all but screamed. "What kind of a question is that? No, I'm not. And I don't plan to be." She was very offended. How could he even ask something like that? She was only fourteen. She hadn't even had a proper boyfriend. Heck, her second date ever was supposed to have been that day. If it hadn't have been for the accident she'd have been getting ready now.
He nodded gravely. "That's all. Thank you Miss Smith." She watched him go dumbfounded. Just what was going on here?
_______________________
"I know I don't know you, but for some reason you know me," Willow began. "Please, please, please get me out of here."
Ray shook his head. "No."
"Please," Willow begged. "If I could I'd go down on my knees but I can't. Please just get me out of here."
"Can't. Anyway where would you go? You can't walk," he reasoned. It was breaking his heart that she didn't recognise him, espeically as it was only last week when she'd agreed to marry him.
"I don't care. Anywhere. Just not here," she pleaded. "They think I'm mad, and they keep asking me who the freaking president is."
Despite himself Ray smiled. "Sorry, no can do."
Willow groaned. "Fine then. Can I ask you questions then? Make a change? Please?" She batted her eyelashes.
Ray sighed. "I guess."
"Yes!" she yelped. "Who are you?"
"Ray."
"Full name?"
"Ray Toro."
"Okay. How do you know me?"
"I met you at a concert."
"Wrong!" she told him. "I've never been to a concert. How old are you?"
"Older than you."
She nodded. "Fair enough. How much older?"
"Several years."
She smiled. "You're not going to tell me are you?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
"Okay...who's your favourite band?
"I like loads. Uh...Misfits, Black Flag."
She grinned. "No way."
"Yes way."
"Me too!"
Ray smiled sadly. She was talking to him, yeah, but this wasn't the Willow he knew and loved. "I'm going to have to go."
She sighed. "Kay. But if my head explodes from the questions I'm blaming you."
He just nodded and strode out of the room. Willow turned her head as a conversation started out side of the room. Interested she began to listen in.
"They said she's got amnesia," said a women's voice from behind the door.
"Well if she think she's fourteen, telling me that I'm old and that she likes the Misfits then I'm guessing she has got amnesia," a man snapped back.
"Ray, come on, calm down. Its no-one's fault," the woman soothed.
"My fiancée thinks she's fourteen when she's in her thirties and the doctor's said it could be permanent and you're telling me to calm down!"
"It's not helping anyone, Ray. Has anyone told Will?" the woman asked.
"No Al," Ray answered. "At the moment I'm still freaking out and the doctor thinks that it's better if one of us tells her, cause we can try and help her remember stuff. But Al." The anger had gone out of his voice and now he sounded broken. "She's asking about her parents. Her parents died in a car crash years ago. When she was fourteen."
__________________
An: I just wanted to point out that this chapter is dedicated to SafeFromRobotsDAMN because she helped with the design of my textiles bag. coughithasM4PMonitcough
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