"What's the deal with that guy?" Matt asked as they made their way over to the line for the ticket booth.

"I have no idea," she replied, trying not to shiver as the crisp night air wafted over her bare arms, reminding her that she'd left the house wearing nothing but a tee shirt.

"Its kind of gross that he seems to have a thing for you. He's a little old to be looking at a girl your age," Matt stated, worry darkening his eyes.

"He...he does not have a thing for me," she denied that absurd allegation.

"Sure he does. Why do you think he's creeping on you?" asked Matt knowingly.

Julian Donovan...had a thing for her? She considered that for a moment. She couldn't say whether she agreed or disagreed, but certainly, something was going on there. Of course, whatever it was, it couldn't get too far if it was all one sided.

They stepped into line at the ticket booth and Clydie deftly pushed her way ahead of Matt so that she could pay for the both of them. It was only eight bucks a ticket, but since Matt was admittedly working two jobs to live and her parents weren't hurting for money, she sprang for both.

"Clydie, you don't have to do that," Matt argued, trying to push his own money through the window of the booth, but she swiped it aside. "I didn't ask you to come so you could pay for me."

"I know," she told him, taking the tickets from the elderly lady and handing Matt one. "So, let's make a trade. I'll buy the tickets and you can give me a ride back home."

It wasn't exactly a fair barter, but she figured it might spare his manhood.

Matt considered that for a beat. "Alright. But, I'm springing for the hot cocoa."

She gave him a nod, but didn't voice her agreement. If he could beat her to the food stands, he could pay for things. If not...well, that was his own fault.

"Here. You're shivering," he pointed out as they headed through the now open rope entrance and out into The Square, slipping his dark brown Carhart jacket onto her shoulders.

"That's okay. I don't want you to be cold," she denied, trying to get out from underneath the heavy thing.

What was with the males in Cedar Cove trying to force their outerwear onto her? It was getting weird.

"I'll be fine. I'm used to the weather here. You're not acclimated yet," Matt smiled down at her, his blue eyes twinkling as they reflected the thousands of twinkling lights overhead.

She had to stubbornly agree. She was not acclimated to the sea air just yet. And she was freezing. So, without further argument, she slid his heavy, warm jacket on, letting out a sigh as the biting wind was blocked out. She almost instantly noted that it didn't smell as wonderfully heady as Julian Donovan's sweater had, but it served its purpose.

Once they were out in The Square, beneath all those countless lights, Matt began to lead her through the throngs of festival goers and over to the first of the scarecrows, which were covered in sheets and tarps, but were all being unveiled at once.

Matt's enthusiasm for the Scarecrow on the Square Festival wasn't exactly contagious, but Clydie gave it a good shot. He was having fun leading her from display to display, showing her all the different types of scarecrows, but she really couldn't tell one from another. Mostly they looked like...well, scarecrows. They had burlap faces and straw hair and plaid shirts, just like every standard scarecrow should. The only one that stood out to her belonged to the 4H display and that thing was, in her opinion, atrocious.

That scarecrow had some sort of leather material for a face, painted or stained to look like tanned human flesh, holes for eyes which were filled with shiny black glass, and a gaping mouth that was held up by a few uneven, jagged stitches of twine. It had a beat up old fedora on its head and a few clumps of what she could have sworn was human hair sticking out from underneath. Thing thing was wearing a long leather trench coat, "blood stained" jeans and button down shirt, and high work boots that someone might wear to clean out horse stalls. Hanging there on its wooden cross, that scarecrow gave her the flat out heebies. It was just so...macabre. And those voided, black eyes....well, they were a little too familiar to her...

And the most disturbing thing about it was the fact that children had come up with it.

After she and Matt made the rounds, they went back to the ticket booth for their voting ballots, marking their choices for funniest scarecrow or best dressed or most frightening. She didn't put much thought into most of the categories, but she knew exactly who should get the most frightening award. Also, she thought maybe some of the parents of the 4H kids should consider scheduling their children a few visits with a therapist.

At some point, the band that was set up right next to the bronze statue of the town founder started up, filling the air with the loud strains of country music. People quickly began to congregate around that area and that freed up some of the food vendors, so Matt led Clydie toward the nearest stand, which was serving up the promised hot cocoa, and ordered them each a cup. She couldn't say how she managed it, but she thwarted his attempts to pay for the drinks and then pulled him away from the stand before he had a chance to make too much of a fuss. She couldn't swat away his attempts to pay for the corn dogs, but she did best him at the funnel cake stand. Thankfully, after eating all that, their bellies were full so their competition was pretty much over.

As the crowds mingled about, talking and dancing and getting their faces painted to look like butterflies or clowns, the mayor's voice came over the loud speaker to announce the winners of the night's festivities. Clydie didn't pay much attention to the winners, except when it came to the most frightening category, which the 4H group won, not surprisingly. What was surprising was the wild, raucous celebration those kids had after their name was announced.

They seriously seemed a little too thrilled with having created something so ominous and unappealing. It was a bit unnerving.

After the winners had been given their medals, the mayor began yammering on about how much money the ticket sales had made for the local charities and Matt took her by the hand, pulling her through the crowd and toward the entrance.

"Let's get going before the rush starts," he said in her ear and she nodded, picking up her pace to keep up with him.

As they booked it across The Square, she happened to glance to her left, toward a group of people gathered by the band...and felt a hard jolt zip through her. Just on the outskirts of the crowd stood Julian Donovan. And he wasn't watching the musicians. His gaze was locked on her, those large grey eyes almost pulsating in the glow of all the twinkling white lights.

Seeing the man standing there, intently watching her, was disquieting and she had no idea how to react to it, so she chose to turn her gaze back toward the exit and not react at all. Whatever issue Mr. Julian Donovan had going on, he could keep it well away from her. She had plenty issues of her own to deal with.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Matt's mode of transportation was an old pickup truck that had at least been around since the seventies. It was a massive beast of a thing and even through the darkness, she could tell that it had seen better days. Allowing Matt to help her up into the cab, the small back seat of which was filled with all sorts of tools and masculine sundries, she was shut in and thusly ferried away through the night, leaving Julian Donovan far behind.

However, the image of him standing beneath all those glimmering lights, his hair all tousled and his eyes fairly pulsating, seemed to follow along right behind her.

She didn't have a lot of time to dwell on the man, though, because the drive back to her house only took about ten minutes. She was kind of glad she didn't have a chance to think too much about him because...thinking about him made her feel rather tawdry. After all, Julian Donovan was well past grown and it hardly seemed appropriate.

There was also the fact that, despite the measure of foreboding that he seemed to ooze, she did find him undeniably...appealing, come down to it. And that worried her. She did not want to make the same decisions her sister had made, because clearly, those decisions could lead to incredibly bad outcomes.

Matt whipped the truck into the circular driveway of her house, entering through the open wrought iron gates, his headlights cutting a sharp swath through the blackness of the night. The house was completely dark but for the front porch light and she suddenly felt a measure of relief knowing that her parents were probably asleep. There was no reason for it, but she really didn't want to have to talk to them just then.

"Well, here you are, safe and sound," Matt said, turning to give her a wide smile.

She couldn't help but smile back at him. "I had fun. Thank you for inviting me."

"You really had fun?" Matt wondered dubiously.

"I really did," she confessed. "I haven't been out in...in a long time. It was nice."

"Well, I'm glad you had a good time, even though it was at one of the lamest events ever."

Clydie unbuckled her seat belt and began shrugging out of his jacket. "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early!" came the response as she pushed open the creaky door and slid to the ground. "I'll wait for you to get inside."

Giving him a wave, she slammed the door closed and turned toward the darkened house. Even above the grumble of the idling truck engine, she could hear the sound of the sea moaning and the evergreen boughs rustling and creaking as the night breezes gusted about, making for a very eerie atmosphere that sent a shiver running along her spine.

She hurried toward the front porch, taking the wide steps as fast as she could and digging in her old leather crossbody bag, searching for her keys as she went. Cedar Cove sounded so much different than Summerville. She knew those night sounds as well as she knew the sound of her own voice. But, in this new town, all the new sounds seemed to be throwing her off a bit.

As she reached the door, pausing to hunt up the right key on her keyring, she pulled in a deep breath of the damp, sea scented air and prepared to enter the house, knowing the musty, bitter scent of nicotine was waiting for her. She actually dreaded being inside with that sickening scent.

Pushing the key into the lock, she opened the door a piece and glanced back toward Matt, meaning to give him a wave...but they were right there, blocking her view. They... 

 The sudden surge of fear streaking through her veins raced her heart and clenched her stomach and swept her body with an almost painful numbness.  

Its not real. Its not real. They're not real.

But, knowing they weren't real didn't make it better. How could anything make it better when that faded version of her dead sister was right there, staring at her with those enormous, blacked out eyes? How could anything make it better when the girl from the back garden was standing there next to Sam. And how in the name of hell could anything make it better when there was yet another person standing with them!

She couldn't quite believe that her damaged mind was truly multiplying her torment by adding people...  And yet...it was.

The third person...was a frail looking young girl with light hair cut in a short, boyish way. She was dressed in a short skirt, a black sweater that was short in the front and long in the back, and a pair of combat boots. She had an eyebrow piercing and a nose ring...both clearly visible. And just like the other two girls, she looked faded...like an old time worn photograph...her glittering, coal black eyes standing out in stark contrast...

Its not real. They're not real. They're not real.

She had done this before. This wasn't a new experience. She knew how this would play out. Those faded images with the voided eyes would go away soon. They would go away. She just had to hold out...just had to keep her mind about her...and they would go away. At least for a while.

She had done this before...so many times before... 

 But, this time...this time... It very quickly dawned on her that something was...different. Sam seemed...different.

There was a new sort of energy surrounding Sam now. She could feel it invading her, spiraling through her, making her go cold. It was an urgent, almost desperate feeling that instantly made her want to...run. Only, her body refused to move.

And the two young girls beside her sister...their energy felt exactly the same. Manic, desperate... She could see it there on their pale, faded faces....

Just as she acknowledged that desperation, the three images suddenly began moving, their mouths opening and closing, forming silent words or...silent screams? And then they were surging toward her, their hands grasping at her, causing her frozen body to lurch backward in an effort to get away from them.

Sam had touched her before...once or twice...briefly. She couldn't forget that cold, horrible sensation...like being doused with icy water that had somehow been thickened, leaving behind a repulsive sensation that clung to her like a film.

But, this time, Sam wasn't trying to merely touch her. Sam...was clawing at her. They were all three of them...clawing at her. Their hands were swiping through the air...reaching for her...desperately trying to...grab hold of her...even as their mouths kept opening and closing in those silent screams...

And then she realized...they were actually managing to get their hands on her. She could suddenly feel it...like being dashed with thickened, icy water. She could...feel it...painfully cold, dripping down her arms.

And then...it was too much. Seeing those three faded...things...with those enormous black eyes...right there in her face, grabbing at her, their mouths working as they desperately and manically screamed at her... It was too much.

Again, her body lurched backward, away from those things, and her back struck something...the front door...forcing it open and allowing her to stumble through. But, her heel caught on the threshold and the next second, she felt her body hit the floor, the impact jarring through her, startling her.

She thought it would be over then. She thought they'd go away. But, no. They were still there, coming after her, surrounding her...bending low over her, their mouths moving...their hands clawing... And she thought...she thought...they were trying to take hold of her because they wanted to drag her off into whatever hell they were all trapped in.

Of their own accord, her hands went up to cover her ears and her eyes squeezed shut, wanting...needing...to block those images out. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't watch them...watch her own sister...clawing at her like a frenzied, wild animal...

Its not real. They're not real. Sam wasn't real! Sam was dead!

She could hear the scream that began pouring out of her and she didn't try to stop it. Those faded things with the unseeing eyes might not be real...but having them trying to tear at her seemed worth screaming about.

"Clydie! Clydie, what's happening!" a deep voice sounded in her ear just as hands gripped her shoulders.

Those hands...they were real...they were flesh and blood hands, and feeling them on her jarred her, bringing her eyes flying open and cutting her off her scream as surely as a hand clamping down onto her mouth.

"Clydie! Tell me what's going on!" Matt demanded, his face contorted with confusion...and a measure of fear.

She looked up at Matt, her heart pounding and her blood surging...but she couldn't speak. And even if she could have dredged up her voice, what on earth could she possibly have said to him? How could she possibly have explained that her sister, who was dead by two years, was not only tormenting her...but, that she'd managed to find a couple of friends who wanted to join in.

When she didn't answer him, Matt let go of her shoulders and reached up, carefully pulling her hands away from her ears. "Clydie? What in hell—"

"Clydie!" a deep voice suddenly called and then heavy footsteps sounded out, hurrying toward them.

A brief moment later, Frank appeared, his hair mussed from sleep and his face haggard with worry. After surveying the scene for a single heartbeat, he dropped to his knees beside her, scooped her up into his arms, and cradled her against his chest. And the sobs began to pour out of her almost instantly.

It was getting worse. It was getting...so much worse. After everything...after giving up everything...her parents lives were going to be ruined anyway. And all because of her...

"Mr. Weston, I don't know what happened!" Matt began in a hoarse voice. "She was fine and then she..she just—"

"Its okay, Matt. You can go on home. I'll take care of her," Frank said in an uneven tone.

Clydie couldn't even look at Matt. Whatever friendship they might have had was, of course, over now. He would run away from her screaming in terror, as he should because...she was sick. Her mind was broken...and she was sick.

"Mr. Weston, she's bleeding!" Matt suddenly urged and his words brought Clydie's head up off her father's shoulder.

Glancing down at herself, her gaze quickly landed on the long, deep gash running down the length of her left forearm, from her elbow to her wrist. Seeing that gash, and the blood that was oozing from it, pushed a sharp gasp out of Frank and he was quickly moving to help her up onto her feet.

"Thank you for getting her home, Matt. We'll see you in the morning," he stated.

"Mr. Weston I-I can help. Really, I—"

"Its okay. I can handle things from here." That said, Frank moved Clydie a few steps backward, deftly removed her key that was still dangling in the lock, and firmly closed the door in Matt Tanner's face. "Come on, Pumpkin. Let's get you cleaned up before your mom wakes up and sees."

Clydie nodded, trying to stifle the sobs still pouring out of her. "She d-didn't wake up?"

"I don't think so," Frank answered as he moved them across the cluttered foyer and toward the hallway leading back to the kitchen. "And what she doesn't know won't bother her, okay? She...she really hoped that moving here would make things better. So, why don't we let her have that for as long as we can?"

Again, she nodded. She wanted that for her mom and dad. She wanted that more than she wanted breath in her lungs. Yet, she wasn't allowed to give her parents the peace and happiness they deserved.

Her broken and damaged mind simply...wouldn't allow it.

So, what on earth was the point of going on? Her sister was suddenly trying to drag her down into hell, so why not just let it happen? Surely, hell couldn't be any worse than her actual life...