2.

When I make it back to the house, everything has gone quiet for the night. They haven't even noticed my absence. Or if they have, they don't care. I stand just outside the screen door and wipe my eyes, making sure I don't look any different from when I left. I just have to keep my hands from shaking.

I glance over my shoulder once last time to see if anyone is there.

John is watching television in the living room and Claire is emptying the dishwasher. It's like the argument they had never happened.

"Hi, honey," she says, not looking over her shoulder. "Did you go take a walk or something?"

I clear my throat but the lump is still there. All I can croak out is, "Yeah."

She glances at me and her hands pause. "Are you okay?"

If I stay here any longer, she's going to know something happened. She always does—she's good like that. But tonight, I can't tell her what happened. I'm not sure if I can. Right now, I'm just trying to breathe right.

"Just tired. I'm going to bed," I say.

She nods, not sure if she just press me.

I walk up the stairs into my room. The darkness outside my window haunts me and I don't turn on the lights. I look across the field shadowed with the moon and see nothing.

It's like it never happened.

Maybe I had imagined everything. If I went back out into that field, would the girl still be laying there, dead? I crawl into bed, not bothering to undress. I just want this nightmare to end. I want to wake up tomorrow and have it all be a dream.

I have a hard time falling asleep. I toss and turn all night, dreaming of nothing and then everything. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, I wake and sit up, breathing heavily, feeling hot with my jeans still on.

The dark corners draw my eyes and I feel like I'm five-years-old again. Scared of the monsters in my closet and under the bed. I just have to remind myself that there is no such thing as monsters. Not real ones. Not like the ones I read about in books and watch in movies.

I don't want to believe my own conscious.

Then one of the shadows move and comes alive. At first I think I'm dreaming again. That I never woke up and I'm having another nightmare. But the chill shooting down my spine tells me differently. I don't feel fear like this in my dreams.

The raven haired boy stops at the foot of my bed, staring down at me with eyes that freeze me in place. It's like my blood has become frozen in my veins. I can't breathe. I can't move.

"The other people who live here," he says, glancing at the door, "they aren't your biological parents?"

I shake my head and he nods, like he was already expecting my answer. I wonder I have time to scream before he can stop me.

Noticing my shallow breath, he leans forward and asks, "Are you afraid of me?"

"What do you want?" I whisper, my voice shaking.

One side of his mouth curves up. "You."

I start to back away from him but he grabs my ankle, pulling me off the bed and wraps me in his arms. His hand covers my mouth, cutting off my scream, and he whispers into my ear, "Don't do anything stupid and they won't be hurt."

He's talking about Claire and John, asleep down the hallway.

He comes around the side of my bed and brings out his hand towards the window, inviting me. I hesitate and see the warning in his eyes if I don't do it. I step out of my bed and towards my window, which I now see is open.

His arm is suddenly around my waist and I'm jerked forward, out the window and into the air before I can let out a scream. When I open my eyes, my feet are on solid outside the house. The moon is high and the forest is dark, and he begins pulling me in that direction. I dig my bare feet into the grass but he keeps hold of my wrist, not letting me go.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, my voice hoarse, on the verge of crying.

He glances at the house and says nothing. And just like inside my room, he puts an arm around my waist and starts half dragging and half carrying me across the field. I jerk my elbow back and into his ribs, feeling him cringe behind me. When I try doing it again, he grabs my arm but I kick him in the shin, trying to pull myself free.

The harder I fight, the harder he holds on, until I can barely move. I stop and breathe heavily, feeling his cold breath on my neck. It sends shivers down my spine.

"Are you done yet?" He murmurs, his lips near my ear.

I take a couple heavy breaths and say. "Let me go."

"No," he says, and I hear the smile in his voice. "You're coming with me."