AN- Well, here we have it, the last chapter. I hope that you have enjoyed this story, I'm sorry if it has ended a little too soon for your liking, I just didn't want to loose my interest in it, as that's what usually happens, and I hate it when stories go on hiatus and I also hate hypocrites. So I feel that ending the story here would be the best thing to do.

HTFan- Well, I seriously doubt that there will be a sequel, as one of my pet peeves is sequels that aren't as good as the originals. And I really don't want that to happen. This also gives you a big hint towards Flaky's safety, especially as I like a happy ending. And before I stop this reply, i just want to say, thanks so much, you have constantly given me reviews and that's something that I really appreciate, so to say thanks, I will start to think about writing another mystery/horror story, just give me some time...

StariChanx- Well, I think I better answer these questions, (Takes a deep breath) Lammy is very sneaky, and the cops were caught up in the confusion, as they also had to locate Flaky's father, and work out how the hospital got Flaky's records so wrong, this gave Lammy enough time to come too and get away. Lammy is now on the run from the law, and is the main antagonist here, and no there isn't anyone else after Flaky. And we are extremely close to the end of our tale. I haven't put in Flaky's friends, as I think that after all she has been through, some space and time to think would be needed. I'm glad you like Splendid as I was pretty nervous about his character.


Flaky looked out the window of the art studio at her school. A month had passed since what she had come to refer to as the incident. Spring was in full bloom. Outside she could see the blossoms on the trees.

Flaky wiped her brush on a cloth. Several days each week, she had stayed late, to work on a series of pieces in the art studio. The painting she was currently working on was called, 'Amnesia'. It was the fourth painting she had done called 'Amnesia'.

"You'll work it out, and then you'll feel all right again. You've been through a lot, but you'll put it behind you." Her father had said. Flaky hoped he was right. She just couldn't imagine a time when she'd feel as she did before it all happened.

It's so quiet here, she thought. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed so late. She listened for the sound of activity. There wasn't any.

It was nearly the time when they would start locking the school doors. The caretaker usually came twenty minutes before to remind her that they'd be closing. But this evening... he didn't.

Flaky felt a chill in the room. She raised her eyes, and shrieked.

Lammy's eyes were blazing at her from the other side of the canvas.

"Look at this place! It's a mess!" She hissed. "Is this the way your sister taught you to keep your room?" Then she lunged at Flaky, knocking the painting to the floor.

"Oopsie daisy!"

Flaky shrieked again. Lammy was holding the carving knife in her right hand.

"Don't be scared, Flaky," she said, mockingly. "I was just going to fix you a sandwich."

Lammed slashed the painting and the canvas tore with a sick, ripping sound. Then she charged at Flaky.

Too late, Flaky tried to run. Lammy swung her left hand in a wide arc and landed a blow on the side of Flaky's face. Pain exploded in Flaky's head as Lammy struck her cheek-bone. She saw an explosion of lights in front of her eyes as she hit the ground.

She saw Lammy's thick ankles as Lammy stood over her body. Looking down at her, Lammy's face twisted into a menacing grimace. Flaky saw the thin sheen of her teeth as Lammy pulled her lips into a frightening grin.

Then, wordlessly, she drew the knife down Flaky's arm, slashing the fabric of her shirt. Horrified, Flaky saw Lammy prepare to slash again. Then she passed out.

"Flaky, wake up! Flaky!" It was her father's voice, she realised through a haze.

"Flaky!" He said again. Flaky blinked and stared at his face. She was lying on the floor of the studio, and he was cradling her head in his arms. Handy, the caretaker was with him.

Flaky jerked into a sitting position. "Where has Lammy gone? She was here! She slashed the painting! Look, she cut my shirt with a knife!"

Her dad and Handy didn't move. They just looked at each other.

"Well do something!" Flaky urged. "She'll come after me again!"

They still hadn't moved. Flaky turned her head to point out her ruined painting.

It was sitting on the easel, unharmed.

"When I came in, you were unconscious, and your painting was on the floor. I picked it up. It doesn't looked damaged."

Then Flaky looked at her arm. The sleeve of her shirt wasn't ripped. She hadn't been cut at all.

Her father pulled her close for a moment. Then he looked at her solemnly. "Lammy couldn't have been here, Flaky. They found her a few days ago, remember? She's in a mental hospital miles and miles from here."

It was true.

"I think I'm going crazy myself," Flaky murmured. "I keep thinking i see her, and it's so real!"

"I think I spooked you," said Handy. "I was so busy I forgot to remind you that we were closing, and then when I came in I kept talking to you, but you acted like you couldn't hear me. Then I came around the canvas and looked at you, and you started screaming."

"I thought I saw Lammy," Flaky said. "I imagined the whole thing! Oh, dad, I'm losing my mind!"

"Shh! Shh! That's not true," her father said gently. "You went through a terrifying experience. Your still scared that's all. You'll get through this thing, I know you will. I believe in you."

"I'm sorry I scared you," said Handy, sounding embarrassed. "Uh, your paintings okay, though, so you can finish it."

Flaky got to her feet and looked at the murky swirls of colour. "No, I don't think I will," she said after a moment. "I think I'll start something new, and different. Maybe that's a good way to start putting the whole experience behind me."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," her father said, his eyes shining as he smiled at her. "In face, I think that we should go somewhere and celebrate."

"Great idea." Flaky smiled back at him. They left the studio and walked down the empty corridor.

Alone in the studio, Handy stared at Flaky's painting for a moment. "Abstract art," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Weird." Then he shrugged and turned off the light.

And there you go, the end. Awww, this counts as happy right...