#1
This is the 2nd part to my story "dispose of your ugly children here"

The tall man brought her through a dark hall. The hall had cement walls that seemed to be closing in on her and the flickering lights did no justice to the eerie feeling this hall had.
She followed the man to a room with a steel door, and watched as he opened it; he signaled her to come in.
“What kind of school is this?” Emily began to ponder fearfully. Emily! You know good, and well this is not a school. This isn’t where you belong, Emily.
“Are you coming to class dear?” the man joyfully smiled to Emily; his white teeth seemed to greet with complete honestly.
She slowly walked into the room, and began to look around. It was dark, and she could not see a thing. Emily felt a chill crawling up her spine. Emily what are you doing! Get out! You know where you are!
Emily all of a sudden heard the door slam, and lock behind her. The sound of the door been slammed shut echoed through the dark room. It sounded like the cries of thunder, and then vanished like a storm. Emily’s eyes widened and her stomach fell sick. “What whaa?” Emily was depressed with confusion. “What?” she quietly questioned to herself. Emily, you know where you are don’t you?
She fell too her knees with painful tears. Her eyes cupping her face as tears began to bleed. This isn’t real, this didn’t happen! I-I’m dreaming!
Calm down; stop crying Emily. You don’t want to appear weak. Emily wiped her eyes, and sucked up her tears. “This isn’t real” she repeated “Mommy love’s me, she used to bake cookies for me every Sunday, and she—“her inner voice rose again.
Did she?
“Yes, mother would never send me too this place she loves me”
Think about it Emily, you know the truth, you always have.
“Mommy loves me!” she screamed with tears in her eyes “She loves me!”
Emily broke into furies tears again, still knelt down against the cold cement floor.
Emily stop this! Think Emily, think!
However, Emily refused to think, because deep down she knew what she would discover.
Emily’s voice was quiet and weak “but Mommy loves me”. Her profuse crying was now leveled to a stuttering voice, and sparkling tears dripping down her cheek.
Emily, think. The voice whispered to her. Think Emily.
Emily pushed her self against the locked door, and sat there, thinking.
Alexis Divine

If my heart is stone then you're Medusa