When I was a child, I was afraid of the dark. As I got older, my fears changed, slowly becoming more and more mature, a fear of snakes, a fear of heights, and finally, a fear of death. Fear fueled my life, making me jumpy and as skittish as a cat. Eventually, I learned that fear is not a bad thing and that sometimes, in order to do something good, you have to be afraid.

I pulled up to the small house that's yard met with the graveyard. The thought of all those rotting bodies made me shiver and I quickly turned the car off and climbed out. Why had I decided to move to a town where the only avaliable house was next to a cemetery? I popped the trunk of my car and grabbed a box while a large white work truck pulled up next to me. My parents climbed out and looked at the house. Seeming to come to some sort of mutual conclusion, they both turned to me at the same time.

"Could you guys quit your freaky copycat thing and just help me get these boxes inside? Please?" They chucked at my response and opened the back of the truck, grabbing a few of the boxes they had helped me cart to my new home. I carried my one box to the door and fished in my pocket for the keys I had just dropped in there. Finally finding them, I attempted to unlock the door. With a sigh, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I would have to put down the box to open the door. Setting the box down, the key finally slid into the lock and the door clicked open. The movers had already delivered my furniture and it was set hazardously around the house. I could see they had taken my instructions literally when I had said to just drop it wherever. I pulled the box left outside into the house and shifted it to just inside the door. Turning back around, I watched as my parents struggled to bring in the boxes they were carrying. I sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, thinking about all of the boxes I had to bring in. This was going to be a long day.

It wasn't long before the sun was setting and all the boxes were finally in the house, ready to be unpacked. The day had been long, but the night would be even longer, much to my dismay. I had no idea what was in each box and so I couldn't even just unpack my pillow and sheets and be done. I was the world's worst planner, apparently.

"Are you sure you don't want us to stay the night and just head back tomorrow, baby?" My mom asked, suddenly behind me, making me jump. I put a hand on my heart, as though that would somehow slow it, and turned to her.

"No way, Mama, I'm fine. I am 22, you know. I can, at least kind of, handle myself," I kissed her on the cheek and gave her a hug. She returned it fully, squeezing me hard. I smiled and didn't even complain. Both of my parents weren't ready for this, even after I had gone to a college in a big city, a few hours drive from our own small town. My older sister had stayed in town and planned to stay for the rest of her life. At 26, she was already married and had a baby. My parents had yet to experience any empty nest.

Once my mother finally released me from her grasp, I was instantly in the arms of my father. He trapped me in a bone-crushing hug and picked me up, leaning backwards to take my feet off the ground. I protested mildly, sad that this may be the last time in a while I receive physical affection from these two. They weren't the only ones over attached. I had always been a bit of a homebody. That was one of the motivating factors for me to move so far away, I wanted to break out of my comfort zone. I knew that I was being a bit dramatic about living alone, but it was a very big step for me to move so far away from my parents.

I waved as they pulled out of my driveway, before turning back inside and locking the door behind me. I began sorting boxes, ripping the tape off to see what was inside before placing it in the appropriate rooms. Hours passed with me moving furniture, my hardwood floors suffering a few scrapes.

I finally had everything at least in the right rooms, though not necessarily in the right places within those rooms. I shrugged, looking over my space. It would have to do for now. I went to my bedroom and began unpacking what I knew to be bedroom things.

Eventually, the boxes were empty but there were no linens to be found. I groaned, looking at the clock I had just set up. It was blinking at 12:00, telling me to reset the time. Rolling my eyes at my own stupidity, I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was already 3 in the morning. I tossed the phone on my mattress, which was thankfully on my bed frame already. I grabbed a fuzzy blanket, one that was actually meant for my couch, and curled up on my bare mattress with it. Who cares if I didn't have sheets on the bed. It could wait until tomorrow.

Sleep had come quickly and waking had come the same way. In fact, waking had been very easy, as I heard someone knocking on my door. I grabbed my phone from across the bed and look at the time. 9:26 in the morning. That was too early, considering when I'd gone to bed. I pulled the blanket over my head, trying to ignore the knocking. Finally, I established it wasn't going away that easily and I sat up, eyes bleary. ran my fingers through my hair before pulling it up in a ponytail, using a hair band that was always around my wrist. I straightened my t-shirt, rumpled from sleeping in it, and tried to make myself at least reasonably presentable. I finally reached the front door, the knocking still coming occasionally, and opened it. A man stood in front of me, probably no younger than me, with dark skin and hair like an overripe apple. He smiled at me, showing low cheekbones and two dimples.

"Hello! I'm your neighbor, Finley," He held out a hand, which I shook. "I wasn't sure anyone was ever going to move in here. Did you move in with a job?" He looked at me expectantly, as though I was here to tell him my life story.

"Um, I'm Riley. I guess I kind of moved in with a job? I'm mostly here because I needed a new small town to paint in... " I almost started rambling a little, but I stopped myself, thankfully. Finley furrowed his eyebrows, his dark green eyes suspicious.

"Okay, well, full moon tomorrow night, so you know what that means. Bye!" He turned from the house and left, walking to the house to my left. I felt my heart pounding at this words. I stepped back inside the door, closing and locking it behind me. I leaned against the door and my eyes shifted over the items in my house suspiciously, as though they had somehow been defiled by the odd man's words. I shook my head, dismissing the silly thought that had, for a moment, run rampant. I stood up, taking my weight off the door. No way was I going back to sleep after that, I would just have to start unpacking.

Four hours later, it was finally done. Well, most of it was, but all that was left in the boxes was a few knick-knacks that would have to find a place later. The most important thing for me to do now was to eat. I hadn't since I had gotten up. I walked to my fridge and opened the door, looking in. It was mostly empty, with a mostly empty half-gallon of milk and a half eaten carton of strawberries. My stomach growled, it's comic timing making me laugh. With the weird neighbor and the empty fridge, I felt like I was on some cheesy sitcom from the nineties.

I had to go to the grocery store, that was obvious. But first, I really needed to shower. I grabbed a simple outfit, a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I showered and dressed quickly, pulling my hair back in a braid and letting it wetly lay on the back of my shirt. I grabbed my wallet, shoving it in the first purse I could find and heading out the door. Sadly, I had to head right back in, as it was much colder than I had originally thought. I hadn't really left the doorway this morning when talking to Finley, but it had definitely not been this cold then. And, if I remembered correctly, he was wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt, definitely not cold weather clothes. I grabbed my jacket and a toboggan before heading back out and climbing in my car.

I cranked it up, sitting in my driveway a bit to let the car heat up and to pull up the GPS on my phone. The joys of modern technology meant that I could easily google the closest grocery story without driving aimlessly around the town looking for one. I started navigation and set the phone in my lap, glancing down to see when my first turn was, before pulling out and starting on my way.

It didn't take me long to find the store, again thanks to modern technology. I parked my car and watched momentarily, as people ambled into and out of the store, pushing shopping carts and a few carrying children. I took a deep breath, suddenly afraid. I would have to get over it, as I really needed groceries, but this was going to be my first time out and about in my new town, it was quite a scary event. I finally stepped out, briskly walking to the store, the cold wind biting at my face.

Grocery shopping in a new town was always a small adventure, since you don't really know where anything is in the store. My adventure was short, however, and soon I was at the checkout with some bored teenager ringing up my groceries. As I was piling them up in the cart, a mildly large woman suddenly came up to me.

"Oh, hello dear! You must be the new woman in town. Well, have you gone to City Hall to register yourself?" I drew back for a moment, shocked at this woman's ability to act as though we have been friends for years.

"Um... Register myself?" It seemed that I was incapable of saying anything but "um" to these people. Soon there were going to be rumors about my intelligence. The large woman's smile faltered.

"Yes... You should go to City Hall. It's probably best if you go today, they stay open pretty late. Here, let me write down the address for you," she ripped the reciept from my hand and flipped it open, pulling a pen from God knows where and scribbling down on my receipt. She quickly shoved it back in my hands and left in the other direction. What the fuck is wrong with the people in this town? I had no idea what it meant to register myself, having barely ever moved, I wasn't sure if it was a common thing. Maybe this town likes to keep it's own Census or something. I figured I might as well do it, having nothing else to do today. I pushed my shopping cart back out to my car, made the switch from cart to trunk and headed home to drop them off before going to City Hall.

After typing the address into my phone, I headed out, back to town. Honestly speaking, I don't even think my old town had a city hall of any sort and it was a pretty small town, just like this one. I pulled up to a building as my phone chirped that I had arrived at my destination. I looked at the imposing building in front of me and almost turned around. It looked like something out of a horror movie, especially considering it was reaching six o'clock and the sun was beginning to set. Freaking day-lights saving times, making the setting sun seem really early. I climbed out of my car, the slamming of my own door making me jump.

I went to the imposing front doors, glad they were already open and that I didn't have to do that action myself. There were automatic glass doors just beyond and I could tell that the inside looked much more modern and friendly than the outside had. I gladly stepped through the doors, being blasted with a wave of heat. I took my toboggan off, trying to smooth the flyaways that had accumulated on the top of my head. I walked to one of the woman at the desk in front of me.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I was told I need to register myself here?" The woman behind the counter smiled at me. She silently handed me a clipboard and gestured for me to sit. I did so, pulling out the pen she had clipped in with the paper. There was a seemingly simple form to fill out, name, age, race, the basics of a census. I finished it and went back to the front counter, handing it back to the lady behind the counter. She smiled and took it, looking over it before casting a very confused look at me. She quickly set it down and picked up the phone next to her. I couldn't hear what she said, but I was directed to sit back down until I was called for.

I sat down again, my brows furrowed and my heart beating wildly. What had I done? All I'd done was fill out the form? Had I done something wrong? My mind swirled with all the reasons that I might be called out or why that other woman had acted like I was some kind of weirdo for the way I filled it out. Before I could start hyperventilating, I heard someone call my name, I stood and went back to the desk.

"The mayor will see you now. Please go down that hallway and it should be the last doorway on the left," I nodded quickly and headed down the hallway. I could see the door that I needed, though I couldn't read the name on it. My heart was beginning to pound again and I felt like I had the one time I had been called to the principal's office back in high school. I finally reached the door and I could see the name on it. Aleister Mortenson. It sounded like the name of some want to be punk kid and I laughed lightly, feeling a little bit of the tension release from my body. I knocked on the door and a shockingly deep voice answered from the other side of it.

"Come in." I opened the door, my heart picking up again. I opened it and the person who sat behind the desk momentarily shocked me. He was classically beautiful. He looked shocked himself, as though he hadn't expected me to be the person to open the door, his unnaturally blue eyes staring at me. I noticed him giving me the same once over I had just given him and felt ridiculously exposed.

"Oh... I see... " He chuckled, seemingly to himself. I kind of glanced around, feeling uneasy.

"What exactly... " I barely started before he stood up and smiled at me, not unkindly but not sincerely either. I could see that his height was actually very close to mine at 5'7".

"I had expected to recognize you, but it seems I was mistaken, that's all," He walked over to me, his hand out. Up close, I could see that his face had a few wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth and that his eyelashes were unreasonably full. I shook his hand, still confused. "I'm the mayor, Aleister Mortenson. It's very nice to meet you Miss. Michaels. I'm sorry to say that, as I don't have your name in front of me, it seems that I cannot remember it. If you would be so kind as to tell me your first name?"

"Riley," I mumbled, feeling very inadequate next to someone who seemed so powerful, not to mention the general unease I felt in the presence of this man.

"Miss. Riley, of course, how could I forget?" He leaned towards me a little bit, his eyes seeming to sparkle. "Now, Miss. Riley has anyone told you about tomorrow?" I shook my head automatically, though a small twinge in my mind told me otherwise. He nodded. "I see... Well, if I may make a suggestion, I would stay indoors if I were you." I felt a chill run over me, but tried to keep it hidden. I nodded, wearily, unsure of what else to do. He patted my head, like one might do a child, and turned back to his desk, long, sleek, black hair cascading down to his mid-back, the top half pulled back neatly.

"You're free to go, Miss. Riley. You weren't quite what I thought you were," He glanced up at me quickly, "Not that there's anything wrong with what you are, just... not what I expected," I turned on my heel, heading out of his office, feeling some what insulted. I climbed in my car, mumbling.

"Yeah, you weren't quite what I expected either, pompous Mr. Mayor. Aleister Mortenson, what kind of fucking name is that anyway? Are you a twelve year old goth kid?" I continued the insults my whole way home, not even turning on my music. Only once I was inside my house did my string of insults come to an end. My stomach growled and I was reminded of my poor eating choices today. Not feeling up to cooking anything, I made myself a bowl of cereal and sat down on my couch, in front of a tv that hadn't even been hooked up yet. The urge to Netflix binge was strong, but my fear had been very inspiring today. If I ever expected to be in a gallery again, I needed to keep painting.

I stood back up, drinking the last of my milk from my cereal. I dropped the bowl and spoon in the sink, determined to get to it later. I headed into the room that was intended for a study. I hadn't even put a desk in here. I had paints placed neatly on a shelf and canvases stacked against a wall. While I didn't have an easel, I had always painted on the floor, so I prepared to do that now. I laid a plastic sheet on the floor, placing a large canvas over it. Though I had braided it while it was wet, my hair still had a few flyaways and twigs that had broken from the braid. I quickly unbraided it and pulled it into a messy bun, catching extras in a handkerchief tied around my head. I put on a smock and took all my paints down from the shelves.

I closed my eyes for a moment, reflecting on my feelings from the day. Today, I felt pure fear of the upcoming night and fear was something I was used to expressing. I grabbed the appropriate brush and began painting. When I was painting, it was like I feel into another world, one where my Earthly fears and worries didn't exist. All that existed was me and the canvas. I painted for hours until finally I felt as though I would fall asleep on the paint. I wasn't finished quite yet, but I knew that tomorrow would ignite many fears, just from the entire idea of it, but for now, I needed sleep.

I crawled into my bed, glad that I had finally found my bedding in the never-ending boxes. Succumbing to sleep, I dreamed of full moons and cryptic mayors. I woke suddenly, covered in sweat. Groaning, I grabbed my phone, blinding myself with the brightscreen. It was only five, but after such a harsh awakening, I wasn't sure if I could get back to sleep. I got up, grabbed some clothes, and showered. Once I had washed the last trace of sweat off my body, I felt much more relaxed. I climbed back into bed with wet hair and a calmer disposition.

My phone beeped incessantly, a phone call was coming in. I flipped the phone over, looking at the screen. Mama. I slid the green answer button and moved the phone to my head.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice still heavy with sleep.

"Hey, sweetie. You weren't answering my texts, so I wasn't sure if you were okay or not, especially since you didn't text me or anything yesterday."

"I was asleep. Sorry,"

"Geez, how late did you plan on sleeping? It's already past noon," I pulled the phone away from my ear, checking the time. It was, in fact, 12:45.

"Ugh, I got my days and nights mixed, it'll sort itself out,"

"You didn't move across the country, Riley. You just moved a state away. There isn't even a time change,"

"You don't have to remind me..." I mumbled, finally getting out of bed. "Look Mama, I've got to go. If I'm ever going to be in a gallery again, I've got to get back to my painting," I hung up as she rambled about how I should have been more like my sister.

"Yeah yeah, let me just marry into success instead of building my own," I grumbled, grabbing a pack of Pop Tarts and going to my TV. TIme to hook this baby up.

Half an hour and a few crumbs later, I was finished. I didn't have cable or dish, so really I just had to connect my DVD player and a HDMI cord that I can connect to my computer at anytime. I never watched anything that wasn't on Netflix, so it was pretty easy. I tossed my trash and headed to my painting room when something shiny caught my eye. I turned to find the source, only to see that it was something shiny and silver mixed into my mail. To be completely honest, I was surprised to see that I even had any mail, considering I had just moved in. I walked over to my front door, picking it up from below the mail slot.

I sifted through the letters, trying to find the source of the silver and soon came to a small silver envelope with a gold seal. Furrowing my brow, I popped the seal and opened the letter. Inside was a small square of paper. I pulled it out, reading as I did so.

You are invited to the Gala at the manor of

Aleister Mortenson. If it would please you

to attend, please RSVP immediately.

I scoffed. Who did this man think he was? I flipped the paper over, revealing a date, time, and phone number. I assumed that was where I was meant to RSVP. I dropped my mail, including the invitation, on my end table and headed to the paint room, ready to forget everything.

My day passed in what I would consider a perfect way. I painted all day, only taking breaks to eat and use the bathroom. As the sun set, I added the final touches on my painting and took a step back to take a good look at it. I was a abstract painter. I used to try and conform to proper styles and things, but with Delaunay and Frankenthaler as my inspirations, I was not meant to paint a true beauty, but rather, raw emotion. This piece had mostly dark colors, showing fear and chaos within my head. I smiled, satisfied with the piece. I left it on the floor to dry and carefully left the room. I glanced out a window as the sun dipped below the horizon and the slowly creeping night took over the town. My couch beckoned me, so I sat down for some much needed Netflix. And that's when the screaming started. 

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A/N: New story! Beyond the Wall is my top priority story, this one is for the PYS 2016 thing. So only a chapter or two a month, but the chapters will be much longer then Beyond the Wall's chapters.  

Dedication is for my amazing editor!

Please comment and let me know if you like it!