Mommy told me to go to sleep and I tucked myself into my cozy blue bed, settling to the coldness surrounding me; it was never this cold in my room but Mommy told me not to bother Daddy and her at night, especially by screaming. I only turned six today...
      Knock knock.
      I heard a sound but I didn't want to wake Mommy up so I ignored the sound even thought I was scared now. Daddy said there was no such things as monsters, that reassured me and I oblivion pulled me to sleep. I was thinking of my favourite things - flowers, mountains and Daddy's stories.
     Come...be a part of us...we won't hurt you...we're here to rescue you...come to me...
     A heard a voice, it sounded nearby somewhere in my bedroom but I couldn't pinpoint exactly where it came from. It sounded as if it came from outside the window...No, Mommy wouldn't allow it, I can't walk when I can't see clearly. But Daddy told me that if someone calls you, you should be polite. How should I be polite?
      "Hello? Excuse me mister, who are you? Are you at my window?" I whispered so I don't disturbed Mommy and Daddy when they sleep. "Mister?"
      Yes, yes I'm at your window. I'm a man who wants to make everything better for you, make you happy, the mystery man replied.
      "No, mommy and daddy told me to stay here," I replied while holding Teddy.
      Come.....Come.....Come.....Come.....
     Those words repeated but when I told mommy and daddy the next morning they laughed and carried on doing their own things after saying it was my imagination.
      How could my imagination haunt me for a whole year until now?
     You have not replied. I keep asking everyday. Come...Come...Come...Come...
     "No, I don't like you, Mom hates you, Dad hates you, I hate you," I said when I had enough of it one night, the mystery man at the window asking me at the same time every single night. "Leave. Me. Alone. Bastard."
      It worked.
      It stopped.
      I could sleep in peace and dream.
      That was two years ago.
      Tonight I dreamt of being surrounded by kids my age and they were smiling and taking me to places I love - I thought I would never leave this dream. They brought me to mountains with high cliffs, watching sunsets and the Northern Lights that dad told me stories about before, how the sky lit up when the pretty colours painted it.
      The only one with dirty blonde hair was named Zach; he was really friendly and was the leader of all the kids who surrounded me. He had ocean blue eyes and a nice smile.
      So you have come...
     Before I could react, I was tied up and couldn't speak because of the gag that was tied on my mouth. It was the mystery man from my window.
He twisted my bones inside my body and the kids watched in horror and tried to get to me but was separated by a clear glass I couldn't see - I couldn't even see the light reflecting on it.
      I was still alive after that was kept in the deepest part of my head, my imagination. I was surrounded by my nightmares, my fears, my phobias. The mystery man kept on torturing me with my own hopes and dreams.

"Wes!" Alexis asked when she saw her son sitting statue-still on the couch the next afternoon when she got back from work. "What happened to you? Wes?"
      He didn't reply and continued staring into nothingness.
      Wes's eyes were hollow and weren't as bright as they used to be every morning, depressing even. His shoulders were slumped and his body was limped as if his only support was his spine. He was fiddling with his fingers, the only movement he showed.
     "Wes, please answer, I'm getting worried," Alexis said while touching his shoulder that was as cold as ice. "Wes! Wes, please! Answer me!"
      "...You murdered me and now I murdered your son," he mumbled, still doing with his fingers and sitting as still as an unremoveable building, not looking at her worried face. "Remember me, Alexis? It's Tom. You killed me in the name of your own safety. You were so full of yourself. I saved him, dear. I saved him from you. I won't give him back because he's happy here."
       A stiff gasp escaped her lips and she covered her mouth. Tom, she killed him when they were being chased by cops years and years ago. Her partner, her friend.
      "Let him go! Leave him out of this! Wes doesn't need to be in any of this!"
      "Let me show him to you then."
      Alexis was very confused and utterly speechless when the television turned on it's own. She saw something that made her cry endlessly.
      The nine-year-old was screaming, his shrieks muffled by a gag. His body was misshapen, like how Tom's sister's body looked like when Alexis did her job. He was bruised and crying like the innocent child he is — he was suffering.
      "It's time to end your bloodline. Time to end my throat for revenge. After all. These. Years."
      "Wes... No..."
      Tom chuckled, using her son's body for his evil intentions. He stood up and revealed something in her son's pocket - a kitchen knife.
      "I'll end his misery and start yours..." Tom said in a low voice, picking up the knife and slitting his son's throat with it. "You gave me and my family nothing but it so I would like to return the favour."
      Tom smiled and her son's body collapsed and a pool of red crimson was forming around him. A black mist rose and evaporated to thin air, Tom's cold-hearted soul.
     The television shut off once more and her son has returned from his internal war. She panicked but covered the wound with a cloth to stop the bleeding to prevent blood loss — she can't lose her son, not now. She already divorced with her husband which left a scar on her heart but losing Wes would be losing her life.
      Alexis called the ambulance and told only about her son bleeding because of 'an accident'.
     "Mom..." he said in a little voice that was hoarse. "Mom..."
     She was shocked but rushed over to console him with rivers of slaty tears streaming down her face. "It's okay, Wes, I'm here. It's okay, you're safe. Help is coming, don't worry. I called the ambulance, they'll make you feel better."
      He was wimpering in her arms as she cradled him and covering his wound at the same time. The woman checked for a pulse every one minute or so, not relying on his chest heaving with heavy breaths.
     Wes was better now, all treated and healthy, but he kept having chest pains for some reason. He kept having nightmares. He was unable to lift his hand or leg sometimes. He had a hard time breathing sometimes.
      That's because Tom was here, he followed him and was angry.

A/N Sorry if this isn't nice.