"For as long as I can remember, he has visited me in my dreams. I call him my beautiful nightmare."

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The grave is still fresh, a sea of flowers carefully placed in the center and along the sides. I briefly halt, scanning the name carved into the headstone. I never heard of this man, but without a doubt, I have met him along the way. I always meet new people, most of them, I can't remember. Unless they are children. I always remember the children.

I continue my journey to the small plot at the end of the path. This grave is unkempt, the marker so withered that the name is barely decipherable.

Jennifer Henrietta Castor—taken from us too soon. May the angels watch over you for eternity.

I don't have to look at the dates to know that the girl had been just three days shy of her eighth birthday. That was ten years ago. Today, that child would be a beautiful woman.

I squat and place a single white rose in the center of the grave. "Happy birthday, baby."

A slight breeze twirls up the leafs next to the headstone, sending a chill along my bare arms. A trace of anger laces the air, and I chuckle.

"You couldn't save her." My eyes rest briefly on a larger leaf that hovers in the air. "You'll never be able to save any of them."

A new breeze flares up, tearing at my shoulder length, black hair like a contentious child that doesn't get its way.

I smirk. "Alright, alright. I won't gloat anymore. Mayhap you gonna win for a change. It might even be tonight."

Rising, I ignore the goosebumps that spring across my skin when a new chill settles in the air around me. Not my problem if he is a sore loser. He should know by now that his anger just makes the game more fun.

I dust the soil off my jeans, just about to turn and leave, when a voice snaps me out of the mesmerizing moment.

"Are you a friend of the family?"

The woman who asked the question is a shrewd old lady with hair so white it stings my eyes. The curiosity pouring from her gaze conjures a smile on my lips. It is so typical for her kind to always have to pry. It's what makes me so successful in my line of work. If people just knew how true the saying "Curiosity killed the cat" really is, maybe they wouldn't be that damn nosy.

"Mayhap I am."

My response throws her off track for a second, but in the end, her need to gossip prevails. "Tragic what happened here. First the daughter, then the parents. Did you know that the child was killed sleepwalking?"

I stifle a snort. Did I know? I was there, lady. "Yes, sleepwalking can be very dangerous." When it comes down to it, only Jennifer is to blame. All she had to do was ride the carousel with me, but she refused. After that, I had to kill her in one of her nightmares. Those are the rules of the game.

"And then the parents. Heartbroken. They say they took their own lives, but personally, I think it was just a freaky accident."

"Well, I guess we'll never know."

The leaves twirl up again like an angry roar. I catch one with my hand and crush it, showing him to butt out of this conversation.

"I have to run, dear," she says. "My great grandson is coming over."

I smile at her mildly, doubting she meant the "running" part literally. "It was nice to meet you. Have a good day now," and pleasant dreams. I know she won't—I would make certain of that. From here on out, there would be nothing but nightmares. Her bad for talking to me and getting on my nerves.

That night, Marisandra meets me at the carousel. Her face is flushed as she runs across the abandoned county fairgrounds, her copper hair whipping in the wind. Ever since she turned sixteen, she has kept it untied, the thick corkscrews curling around her shoulders and framing her face like an angel. Her dark blue eyes, barely distinguishable from the sky darkened by dusk, are beautiful. Of all my disciples, she is by far my favorite and most loyal. Her crush on me is adorable.

"Where are we going?" she asks in between rapid breaths. A mischievous glow sparkles in her eyes. She is so full of life that it is almost painful.

I wait until she settles down, watching how the flame of excitement oozes from her pores. The energy is ready to burst out of her and tear with it everything in its path. Stretching out my hand, I pull her onto the carousel. "Tonight, we will visit a little girl called Amilia."

~~~~

I awaken with a startle by the squeaking of the door. "Mom?" Sitting up in bed, I rub my eyes. Everything is quiet in the house, my room filled with total darkness. Not even the moonlight that usually shines through the gaps in the curtains offers comfort. With a shudder, I pull the blankets closer around me.

For a moment, I ponder whether I should go back to sleep, but thirst is burning in my throat. I slide out of bed, my feet finding the slippers by my bed. A warm breeze flows in through the open window and I don't need my bathrobe. Toddling downstairs, I switch on the light in the kitchen. My head has already disappeared in the fridge to find the juice when another squeak freezes my blood. Instinctively, I sense the presence of another person in the room.

My head snaps up and I let out a little shriek. Two strangers are standing in our kitchen. I squint at them for a few moments—they don't look scary. The girl with flaming red hair is maybe the age of my big brother and reminds me of my Arielle doll, just with curls. The boy is a little older with hair to his shoulders. My mom wouldn't like him—she calls guys like that hippies, but I don't know what that means. His eyes are so dark that the black inside is no longer distinguishable from the rest. On second thought, he looks a little scary.

"Hey there." The smile he offers doesn't reach his eyes and I cower back.

"Let's play a game, shall we?" he says.

I frown. My mom would be mad if she finds me out of bed at such a late hour. "I'm not allowed to."

"Don't be ridiculous." The boy waves with his hand. "You're eight years old. You're supposed to have fun."

"I don't even know you." I twitch under his burning glare. "My mom says I shouldn't talk to strangers."

His lips split to a thin smile. "But you do know me, Amilia. I'm the boogeyman."

My breath is caught in my throat. With another shriek, I dart from the kitchen. The girl is right behind me. I reach the stairs and my foot is already on the first step when a cloud of smoke blocks my way. The air sizzles and the cloud disappears, leaving the boy sitting on the steps in its stead. He smirks at me with this creepy smile.

"Run, Amilia, run," he hisses.

I spin around, lunging for the door. My fingers fumble with the key, but I manage to get it open. I almost stumble as I stagger down the steps. My lungs fill with the cool night air, a burst of energy jolting through my legs. Propelled forward by an invisible force, I sprint down the garden path.

Their low laughter is right behind me. I push harder, panting by the time I turn the corner. My thighs burn as I find an even rhythm to my rapid thrashing heart that threatens to break through my chest. The pounding of my feet on the hard cobblestones is almost drowned out by my heavy breath and the rushing in my ears. I keep gulping down large mouths full of air, trying to ignore the burning stitch in my side. The boy and the girl are almost upon me. I can feel their hot breath against the back of my head. The hair on my neck rises when another laughter breaks through the night.

Run, Amilia, run, is replaying over and over in my mind, just like a tormenting melody.

My feet keep sliding out of my slippers until I kick them off. My strides become faster until a sharp pain on the bottom my foot slows me down again. I whimper as the pain spreads up my leg. When I glance back, a trail of bloody footprints follows me from behind. The grin on the boy's face is wide as he winks at me. His strides are long and even, it looks like he is flying and there is not the slightest strain on his face. The glow in his eyes freezes my blood. I almost stumble over my feet, but I can't tear away from his gaze.

By the time my head snaps forward, tears blur my vision. I feel how the strength in my legs is dwindling and the stitch has become a dagger, stabbing into my side. My lungs are on fire and every new breath is pure torture. My pigtails swing back and forth, though some strands of my hair have come loose and stick to my face. Tears splash on the cobblestone in front of my feet. The hem of my nightgown whips around my calves and I wish I had worn pajama buttons. It would be so much easier to run.

All of a sudden, a dark wall appears in front of me out of nowhere. I dig my heels into the ground, but can't avoid the collision. The force of the impact throws me on my butt. I cry out as pain crawls up my spine. My arms curl around my legs and I weep against my thighs. Sobs shake my body, even as the pain subsides.

"I told you to run, little girl." The boy's voice is scolding as he gazes at me from the sidewalk.

I notice I'm sitting right in the middle of the street. There is this twitch on his lips that tells me he is having fun. Sudden bright lights sting my eyes. The road underneath me is trembling, my heartbeat accelerating by the sound of an approaching engine that breaks through the still night air. I realize it's from a car and it's heading straight for me. I try to stand, but my legs have disappeared. I cry in despair at the same time my pee is bursting out of me.

"Please, help me." I stretch out my arms at the two silhouettes on the sidewalk.

The cackling laugh of the girl is the only answer.

With my last ditch effort, I roll onto my stomach, lifting my body with only my elbows. Sweat trickles down the side of my face as I pull myself toward safety. The engine of the car is getting louder with every inch I gain. I pant from the effort. The salt from my sweat and my tears mix with the metallic taste of the blood on my lips. When I meet the boy's gaze, a whimper escapes. His eyes glow like golden nuggets in the darkness.

The engine is now so loud that it vibrates painfully in my ears. I stretch out my arms again when the road underneath me trembles from the booming tires on the cement. There is a click as the car accelerates. I cry out before squeezing my eyes shut, my body curled into a tight ball.

All of a sudden, strong arms enclose me and lift me up without any effort. I instinctively snuggle against the chest of my savior. There is no heartbeat.

"I got you, little girl."

Warm lips are pressed against my temple. The pain seeps out of me and my breathing slows. It is almost like I'm floating.

"You're not gonna let her die?"

"No, not tonight."

I yelp when someone shakes me by my shoulder. "Wake up, Amilia."

When I pry my eyes open, my mother's round face hovers just inches above mine. I throw my arms around her neck. "Oh, mom, I had this terrible dream."

"I know, pumpkin." She strokes strands of hair from my heated face. "I heard you scream. It's over now."

"I think I peed my pants." The embarrassment heats my cheeks. I'm not a baby anymore. It shouldn't have happened.

"Don't worry, we get that cleaned up." She pulls me into her arms.

I indulge in her embrace, the last of the tension flowing from my body.

"You wanna talk about it?" Her hug gets tighter when I freeze.

I shake my head, too afraid to relive the memory. That was my worst nightmare yet.

"Okay, then let me change the sheet and you put on some new pyjamas. Do you want me to fetch you some juice?"

"Yes, please." My voice is meek. I'm glad she offered. The thought of having to go downstairs into the kitchen on my own sends a shudder down my spine.

After everything is cleaned up, I'm sitting back in my bed, sipping my juice slowly to stall. The truth is that I'm terrified that my mom will turn off the lights again.

"Do you want me to leave the light in the hallway on tonight?" she asks like she could read my mind.

"Yes, please." My voice shakes with relief.

My eyelids grow heavy as soon as she leaves the room, and though I fight sleep, exhaustion wins in the end. My mind drifts back into dreamland—this time, I'm on the grounds of an old fair. All the attractions are closed but for a carousel that glows mysteriously in the darkness. I'm drawn to it like a fly to sugar.

My steps falter when I realize that a boy is sitting on a horse. When he looks up, I immediately recognize him—he is the boogeyman. Sudden wind flares up, insisting on me to run, but my curiosity is burning so hot in my veins that my legs develop a mind of their own. It is almost like he is pulling me in by an invisible string.

He smiles. "Come on, little girl, and join me. You can choose any of the horses you like."

My feet are heavy, almost as if they have been bolted to the dusty ground. "I'm scared," I admit.

"Don't be. If you join me, I will show you something."

"What?" My voice is barely heard over the trails of the wind, snaking around the mysterious boy.

"Darkness."

"Why would I want darkness? It scares me."

"But it can be beautiful. You'll see. Just let me show you."

He stretches out his hand and I allow our fingers to intertwine. My heartbeat triples when I step onto the carousel. As soon as I pull myself up onto the horse next to him, the carousel begins to move. The wind tears at my pigtails and my head tilts back when the lump in my stomach unravels in a spark of flurries. I laugh, the spinning of the carousel making me dizzy.

The boy's breath is hot against my cheek when he leans over and whispers in my ear. "Open your eyes to my world, Amilia. Let me show you how beautiful a nightmare can be."