Things had always been a little off since you have been home. Just the little things, a misplaced object in your room, doors open in areas where they should be closed. But you just wrote them off as some sort of paranoia.....

But you being a 16 y/o you have had a lot of things to deal with, especially in your life. Your parents divorce when you were 13, your older brother leaving, your little sister having a mental illness, and a close friend who had passed before.

No your life was not happy, you had very few friends, who were all close. Very violent siblings who have tried to kill you in the past and still threaten to do so. A mother who gets drunk off her ass every time she gets, and no father who left you stranded.

No you did not ask for this. In fact you have grown tired over everything, physically and emotionally. You were now very depressed and uncaring. You hardly slept or ate anything, making your body weak and malnourished. But you didn't care, you were tired just so very tired of everything.

Almost every night you would go on long walk through a dark neighborhood with crimes happening almost every hour in the day. You could care less, you walked down the trashed street at 12 o'clock at night, going to the school in your home town. It was the only place to get some space, the school was shut down years ago and time was left to ravage on the building, wearing away the exterior walls.

You go to the overgrown fields, where the night sky shined brightly with the stars. You sat down in the damp cool grass and pulled out your earbuds and iPod from the pocket of your jacket, you put the earbuds in and it played a song that brought back the few little happy memories you had.

You lay back in the grass as the music played softly in your ears. The song was 'Crimson and Clover' by Joan Jett and The Blackhearts. The music soothed you with the older beat and the singing of Joan Jett. You looked at the stars, seeing the big dipper as you started to lose feeling in your relaxed body. You closed your weary eyes, hoping that you would always stay asleep.

??????'s POV

This rundown town had few to little reasons to have some fun. Chaos reigned everywhere, no matter what murder he did he wouldn't feel satisfied like he normally would. He would walk the streets, hiding in the shadows, hoping to prey on anyone who was out too late.

In his sleeve he had his beloved signature weapon, a large kitchen knife, which he had used to carve a permanent smile on his face, he always had loved the knife. He saw a slim figure walk in his line of sight, he smiled, the crescents on his face stretching as he watched the figure go to the abandoned school.

'Too Easy...' He chimed in his head as he followed the figure to the school. He watched and waited for the right time to strike, the figure sat in the grass and laid down, which made him more ancy to strike. He crouched, his knife ready to stab into the figure, only to find that the figure which he had expected to be male was a female.

Her features were gaunt but still beautiful. Her ( skin color ) tone had fit her perfectly in the moonlight, she had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and he noticed that you had bright red earbuds in, so she couldn't hear a thing.

He was stunned, he pulled back from crouching and sat on his knees watching her with unblinking eyes, he took everything about you in, the way your ( hair length ) hair shaped perfectly around your gaunt face, and how the color shimmered in the moonlight. He thought as he just stared at you, his knife by his side. It seemed almost a pity to kill such a beautiful creature that laid vulnerable before a killer like him. He mulled over the thought to kill you or leave you be, his hand gripped around the handle of his beloved knife as he brought it up over you, the decision was final as he brought the blade down......

The blade landed centimeters from your sleeping face, nowhere near to hitting you. Jeff couldn't do it, he couldn't kill you like he would others, he couldn't place why. He let the handle of the knife go as he sat close to your sleeping form, looking at his hands in his lap. He was a killer, a killer who doesn't have room for feelings or anything for that matter. But he couldn't, not to you. Something prevented him from doing so, he looked up from his hands and at you again. 'What made you so special?' He bit whatever was left of side of his mouth, in a thinking manner.

He looked around the area for something to write on, he saw tons of litter around the abandoned playground and got the cleanest piece he could, then found a busted pen nearby, and wrote a letter.

'Sleeping in the grass outside isn't good for you, go home'

He tore the written part of the paper off from the main sheet and folded it up and slipped it into your pocket, he grabbed the handle of his knife and yanked it from the ground he thought and took the pen and drew a red smile over your frowning face, he smirked more to himself and wrote on the back of your hand,
'Smile more'
Went a little ways away seeing you start to move, he stood behind a wall watching you from a distance seeing you get up and go home like nothing happened. Little were you aware of the little things that happened that night, the night everything started.......

When you got home you weren't surprised to find the house dark and quiet, you quietly remove your shoes, after shutting and locking the door silently. And take your shoes upstairs to your room and set them down by your bed, your room wasn't the biggest in the world.

You only had enough room for a small dresser across from your bed and little room for your hamper which was infront of your small closet. Your bed was almost big enough for two, the bed was only two small mattresses stacked upon one another. You sat down on the bare mattresses and pull the little thing you called a blanket up to your shoulders.

You had given your warmer bigger blankets to your smaller siblings, they would always get sick and have colds, and you were terrified that your drunk mother would hurt them because she had to waste her money on your illnesses. You suffer for the better of them, you loved them unconditionally but they hardly acknowledge you half the time.

You sigh as you felt the cool bed take your body heat, sucking the heat from your body, your hand grazed your cheek and it felt sticky. You blinked some and touched your cheek again, and pulled it away, sticky still. You got up and went to the shared bathroom, seeing bright red streaks on your face in the shape of a cheshire smile on your cheeks. You gasp and quickly hurry to clean it away. It did go away but it left a light red hue on your cheeks from the effort to make it go away, you sigh and look at your hands, only to see a message on your hand, you read it to yourself.
'Smile more...' You just stared at it and that was when the paranoia started.