Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth but I really like the movie, so don't sue
me. I have no money.
The Labyrinth's Chosen
Chapter 1
It wouldn't be much longer now; the police station was about two blocks away. Not much time to brace yourself for the impact of identifying pictures your mother. Or so Angel thought.
She was angry.
Not so much at her mother, but at the people who had contributed to this end. Among those people she also blamed herself.
If she had bothered to really try to take care of her mother instead of relenting to her grandparents and having her institutionalized this might not have happened.
Damn her mother for trying for running away and damn the Saint Mitchell's Home for the mentally insane for not keeping an eye on her.
These angry thoughts did not last much longer as she arrived in the parking lot.
'These things, they happen.' She thought miserably as she gathered her purse and keys and got out of her car.
As she began to walk towards the main entrance to the police station, a terrible sense of dread entered into, starting in her stomach with the cold sinking feeling you get when you anticipate something bad that you know is going to happen.
Angel stepped to the door and watched the people going in and out when suddenly she realized that her hands were shaking.
Taking a deep breath she put her right hand on the door handle and pulled.
She walked to the front desk and found herself looking down at a short blond lady with a police uniform on. She didn't think to introduce herself.
"Are you Angelina?" the lady asked in a low voice.
"Yes, I am."
No more words were passed between the two women.
The lady took her into a small room with a man who seemed like he was in his late fifties. Graying hair and heavily creased eyes were a good indication of this. He pulled out a folder and looked her in the eyes sadly.
Angel began panicking inside, 'I don't want to see this! How did things end up like this?! Why isn't my father here to do this? Why did she run away? Who did this to her?' a million things ran through her head.
The man did not introduce himself but instead asked, "You Angelina Avery?"
"Yes, I am."
He handed the folder to her.
"Is this your mother?"
She looked at the pictures of the dead woman.
"Yes, she is."
AN: I realize that I have made a few drastic changes but some things were brought to my attention that needed to be fixed. Thank you for your input and I appreciate the time and effort you put into giving me your opinion. I wouldn't even think of these things otherwise. ~C
The Labyrinth's Chosen
Chapter 1
It wouldn't be much longer now; the police station was about two blocks away. Not much time to brace yourself for the impact of identifying pictures your mother. Or so Angel thought.
She was angry.
Not so much at her mother, but at the people who had contributed to this end. Among those people she also blamed herself.
If she had bothered to really try to take care of her mother instead of relenting to her grandparents and having her institutionalized this might not have happened.
Damn her mother for trying for running away and damn the Saint Mitchell's Home for the mentally insane for not keeping an eye on her.
These angry thoughts did not last much longer as she arrived in the parking lot.
'These things, they happen.' She thought miserably as she gathered her purse and keys and got out of her car.
As she began to walk towards the main entrance to the police station, a terrible sense of dread entered into, starting in her stomach with the cold sinking feeling you get when you anticipate something bad that you know is going to happen.
Angel stepped to the door and watched the people going in and out when suddenly she realized that her hands were shaking.
Taking a deep breath she put her right hand on the door handle and pulled.
She walked to the front desk and found herself looking down at a short blond lady with a police uniform on. She didn't think to introduce herself.
"Are you Angelina?" the lady asked in a low voice.
"Yes, I am."
No more words were passed between the two women.
The lady took her into a small room with a man who seemed like he was in his late fifties. Graying hair and heavily creased eyes were a good indication of this. He pulled out a folder and looked her in the eyes sadly.
Angel began panicking inside, 'I don't want to see this! How did things end up like this?! Why isn't my father here to do this? Why did she run away? Who did this to her?' a million things ran through her head.
The man did not introduce himself but instead asked, "You Angelina Avery?"
"Yes, I am."
He handed the folder to her.
"Is this your mother?"
She looked at the pictures of the dead woman.
"Yes, she is."
AN: I realize that I have made a few drastic changes but some things were brought to my attention that needed to be fixed. Thank you for your input and I appreciate the time and effort you put into giving me your opinion. I wouldn't even think of these things otherwise. ~C