Lorraine had never felt anything like it before. "Oh, Lord," she sighed, as if uttering a prayer.

   Something bad was in that house. Lorraine could tell by the way her skin tingled that something in the house was evil. It made her shiver visibly; even Ed seemed to be alerted to this change and was keeping a close eye on his girlfriend.

   Lorraine and her mother had visited their cousin Clarice before. She was a stout, red-headed woman with a no-nonsense attitude and a loud voice that invaded Lorraine's thoughts.

   She knocked on her aunt's door, hoping to the Lord above that older woman wouldn't question the situation.

   When she received no answer, she turned to Ed, steading herself against him. "We should check the barn."

   Ed watched as Lorraine took the lead, peering around the corner of the open barn. Inside were five stalls. In one was Clarice. She had given the horses water and now patted one of them, observing how the animal drank.

   "Would you like to come see the horses, Lorraine?"

   The couple paused.

   "No use hiding. I know you're there. I had a silly hunch I was going to get some visitors soon." She turned around, facing the two teenagers. "I don't know why you're here, but you know you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," when neither of them moved, she switched to, "C'mon, come see the horses. I'm sure they've missed you."

   "They've been quite a mess lately," she admitted, "I haven't had much time to care for them entirely, given the current circumstances," she held a hand to her swollen womb.

   One of the horses whinnied. Lorraine shivered, glancing up at the dark-haired Clydesdale. "Hello, Midnight," she said, reaching up to stroke his nose. He swung his head back and forth in annoyance.

   "He's been acting rather odd in the past week," she muttered, shaking her head. "Course, you know Rain," she said, gesturing towards the smaller paint. Her gaze drifted to Ed, and she began to introduce herself, seeing as though Lorraine "didn't have the proper manners to do so herself".

   Lorraine had distracted herself, examining the mare closely and looking for the scars that marked her legs. They had faded to light pink, and some of the hair had grown back over the wounds. Clarice must've noticed this; she promptly informed her cousin of the still-broken fence.

   "I've had to keep them in here most of the time, or else she'll get all banged up on the wire again."

   "You haven't fixed it?"

   "We had no time. Jonathan left...too quickly."

   "I could fix it for you," he placed a hand on Lorraine's shoulder. "I mean, we're here because we need a place to stay, and we may as well help while we're at it."

    "I might have to take you up on that one. I hate leaving these three in the barn all the time-- it makes cleaning up around here that much harder. Since you're here, though, why don't we go in and get a cup of tea?" Clarice asked, taking her cousin's hand.

   "I like tea," Lorraine replied rather enthusiastically, glancing back at Ed. When she started towards the house, however, her stomach began to churn. She gulped, feeling vomit at the back of her throat, knowing that if she closed her eyes, she would see something she really didn't want to see. The world was swirling for a moment, and she swore that she would pass out, before she did exactly that.

   She was splashed with water once more, but instead of meeting Ed's reassuring gaze, she met Clarice's fretful expression.

   "Are you alright?" Clarice questioned, knowing little of Lorraine's current state. Mrs. Moran had only told Clarice of Lorraine's persistent bouts of "insomnia", and not of the visions that kept her awake at night.

   "I'm fine," she lied. The house was making her crazy. Even as she spoke the kindly woman, she could spot another figure standing at the door, waving at her like a child.

   She had to tell someone before this place killed her. It was already apparent that whatever apparition was present was messing with her, and would probably continue to do so until she either went mad or spilled the beans.

   "I think...I think I need to go freshen up," she admitted, directing herself to the restroom. Clarice looked unconvinced, but said nothing.

   Lorraine busted into the bathroom and began studying herself in the mirror. She flinched. Her skin was yellowing...there were dark bags under her eyes...and behind her, holding a knife, was a wrinkled, old man.

   Her mouth fell open. Her hands raised to her face, trying to block out the image, but it was still there, as if it was trying to burn a hole through her head. Tears flowed from tired eyes, and she sobbed violently.

   She couldn't do this alone. Lorraine needed someone to believe her, but she hardly knew how to explain herself...what would she say, anyways? Hey, cuz, I don't want to alarm you, but I think your house might possibly be haunted...Ed and Clarice would deem her as a lunatic.

   What little food had been in her stomach came up, much to her dismay, and she rushed to scrub the floor before anyone noticed.

   Unfortunately for her, Clarice walked in on a flushed, muttering teenage girl who was scrubbing linoleum until her fingers bled. "Oh, Lorraine, don't worry about that. Perhaps you should change and go lay down," she chided gently, beckoning her to follow.

   "I'm sorry," she muttered, wiping her eyes. "I'm really, really tired."

   "You go on. I can take care of this," she said, taking the dirty rag from Lorraine's hand.

   Lorraine stumbled down the hallway, feeling an overwelming need for rest. The constant whispering was making her dizzy, and she didn't want to pass out again.

   She plopped down on the couch, letting the soft fabric of blankets take her into imaginary arms. Lorraine sighed. Clarice walked behind her, massaging her shoulders. "I really am sorry," she managed, taking her cousin's hand in her own.

   However, the hand was not Clarice's. If it hadn't been for the distant echo of the woman's voice, she never would've realized that it was Ed  who held her hand.