God, why is it so hot in here? I try to sit up but hit my head against something hard. I open my eyes but still see darkness. I put my hands on the place my head hit. Wood? I feel around. More wood? My legs try to move around, but it's stopped by surrounding wood. I'm in a box.

"No," I whisper, trying to make the walls wider somehow. "Hello?" I bang and thrash around. "Hello?! Somebody help! I'm trapped in here!" After minutes of wailing and feeling like I'm gonna pass out, I scream.

I awake with a jolt to the sound of my alarm clock, breathing heavily. It was just a dream. "Thank God," I whisper as I rub my face with my hands.

I get dressed for school and go through the day as I normally would - except knowing that later tonight, I'll have my tenth kill. As I sit in my classes listening to the teacher lecture, I fiddle with my pencil between my fingers, treating it as if it's my butterfly knife. At lunch, the bathrooms are always empty, so I go there and practice with my actual knife and before I know it, the day is over.

The whole way home, I'm practically skipping in excitement. My watch reads 4:00 pm when I return home, and I've already mapped out my plan in my head. When I get inside, I run upstairs to my room and start preparing:

The first thing I do is change into black clothing because it'll be dark by the time he gets here.(He's smart for that - the nighttime is actually the best time to commit a murder.) Then, I reach under my bed and grab my bat, putting it in my closet where I'll be hiding. My alarm clock reads 5:47. I smile. He'll be here soon, it's only a matter of minutes. I take out my knife to practice tricks, but then I hear Billie coming up the stairs.

"Shit," I whisper, concealing it under my pillow.

He opens my door and I swallow. "Did you drink my last beer?" he asks casually.

I shake my head. "No."

"Really? So where'd it go?"

"I don't know."

Billie chuckles darkly and walks inside until he's towering over me. "Say that again. Look me in the eyes and say that again."

"I don't know -"

Billie slaps me so hard that I fall to the ground. I try to get up, but his knee digs into my back and he lifts me by my hair. "Tell me you're lying."

"I'm not! I swear!" My head slams into the floor with such force, blood starts to gush from my nose. I feel his weight off of me and try to stand, but he punches my mouth, knocking me down again.

"Fucking liar." He says. He comes to the side and kicks me in my ribs.

"Billie -!" He does it again. "P-please, I didn't - !"

He stops momentarily. I see him looking in my closet, at the metal bat I put in there earlier. He goes to retrieve it and I try to crawl away even with the aching and cracking sound of my ribs. "Billie," I say calmly. "Please don't do this."

He puts the tip of the bat on the ground and holds it by the handle, approaching me as if he's walking to a baseball plate, eerily scraping on the wood.

"No, Billie." My voice croaks as I back up. "Please."

He lifts it and I turn my head and shut my eyes.

BANG!

I meet Billie's blank stare. The bat drops and so does he. My breathing becomes even more ragged than before. A pool of blood forms a puddle from him and I see the bullet wound that took him out in the back of his neck. My head turns to meet the source of the weapon and I stand quickly when I see who's at my bedroom door.

It's Brendon.