Every summer, it arrives. It just decides it wants to be here, but my parents think I'm crazy. They even sent me to a psychologist to get me diagnosed. The doctor thought my own parents were silly for sending me. I was just a little girl. I was probably just having bad dreams, and night terrors. I was just a little kid tortured by my own imagination. Ever since, I didn't say anything to my parents about IT. Where has that left me? With an insane summer. A real summer of hell. A vacation without any fun, more of one where i'd like to just run.