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𝐌𝐑. 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐌𝐀𝐍

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Sunshine absentmindedly twirled the pencil between her fingers, her gaze flicking between the whiteboard and her AP Calculus teacher, who was deep in the intricacies of equations. Every so often, she jotted down key points in her notebook, her handwriting neat and precise. As she leaned forward, her tongue grazed her bottom lip in quiet concentration, absorbing the information.

It was her senior year—the year—and the pressure was beginning to mount. If she wanted to impress Juilliard, she had to be flawless. There wasn't room for distractions. Her thoughts briefly wandered to the house, hoping that by the time she got home, her piano would be settled in, along with the rest of her family's belongings. Once it was in place, she could finally lose herself in hours of practice, refining every note for the audition that could shape her future.

Her gaze drifted to the side, drawn to a hushed conversation just beyond her desk. She subtly observed as the boy next to her leaned in, speaking low and steady to the person beside him. Their exchange was smooth, almost rehearsed, and as she watched, he coolly slipped a small plastic bag into the customer's waiting hand. In return, crisp bills were passed back with barely a word spoken.

The corner of Sunshine's mouth tugged upward in faint amusement. Drugs weren't really her thing—she had learned that the hard way. After getting caught stealing her father's prescription pads to score Adderall, she had made a conscious effort to rely on her own energy and focus to push through. But now, as her senior year loomed large and Juilliard was on the line, she felt the familiar temptation gnaw at her resolve. She wasn't taking any chances.

As soon as the bell rang, Sunshine wasted no time. She quickly shoved her notebook into her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder, and darted out of the classroom. Her eyes locked on the boy from earlier—the one with what she needed. She weaved through the bustling hallway, dodging clusters of teenagers until she was close enough to reach out and tap his shoulder.

"Hey," she called, her voice just loud enough to catch his attention over the chatter and slamming lockers.

The boy glanced back, his eyes trailing lazily over her before finally meeting her gaze. "Hey," he replied, his tone casual, yet detached.

"I'm Sunshine," she introduced herself, extending a hand with a confident smile.

He gave her a half-hearted smile, "And I have a girlfriend." With that, he turned to walk away, clearly expecting the conversation to end there.

Sunshine stepped in front of him, her laugh a little too forced. "No—no, it's not like that," she said, waving off the misunderstanding. "I wanted to buy from you."

His face immediately shifted, a guarded expression slipping into place. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said with a shrug, his eyes darting over his shoulder like he expected someone to be listening.

"Oh, please." Sunshine rolled her eyes, lowering her voice as she leaned in slightly. "I saw you earlier."

He stood there for a moment, jaw clenched in thought, weighing his options. Then, with a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Alright," he muttered. "Walk with me."

Sunshine walked alongside him, their steps falling into sync as they made their way toward the quad. 

"What are you looking for?" he asked, his voice low, barely audible over the din of the crowded hallway.

"Addies," Sunshine replied, her tone cool and steady. "I've got cash."

He paused just outside the door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching too closely. "I'm fresh out," he stated. "But I'll let you know when I re-up. All I've got right now are oxy's."

Sunshine let out a soft sigh, her eyes scanning the crowd nervously. She hesitated for a moment, weighing her options. It wasn't what she came for, but she didn't want to walk away empty-handed. Finally, with a resigned breath, she looked back at him. "How much?"

"Five a pop," 

Sunshine nodded, reaching discreetly into her bra and pulling out a crisp fifty-dollar bill. "I'll take ten," 

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Sunshine's fingers glided effortlessly across the piano keys, each note resonating with practiced precision. Her movements were fluid, second nature, the product of years of dedication and late nights. The sheet music rested before her, though she barely needed it—her eyes only flickered to it occasionally as her hands knew the melody by heart.

The rich, harmonious sound filled the room, wrapping around the scattered boxes that remained unpacked. Sunshine let herself be absorbed in the music, the notes carrying her away from the chaos of the move. 

Lost in the melody, Sunshine's fingers danced across the keys with a steady rhythm, until her finger slipped, pressing the wrong key. The jarring note echoed, breaking the spell. She huffed in frustration, her hands hovering over the piano before she angrily jabbed at the keys again. Rubbing her tired eyes, she leaned back, exhaling sharply.

But the silence didn't last long. A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air, coming from upstairs.

Sunshine's heart leapt in her chest as she rushed up the stairs, her pulse quickening with each step. She could hear muffled voices, coming from above, and her eyes darted to the ladder leading to the attic. Without hesitating, she climbed it, her hands gripping the rungs tightly as she pulled herself up. When she reached the top, her parents were standing still, their eyes fixed on something hanging from the ceiling—a black rubber suit.

Ben broke the tension with a chuckle, his hand slipping around Vivien's waist. "I guess these guys were into some kinky stuff, huh?" he quipped, his grin playful. "Should I try it on?"

Vivien didn't share his humor. She shook her head, her voice stern. "That's not funny, Ben."

"Ew," Sunshine muttered, announcing her presence as she stepped further into the attic. Both her parents glanced back at her, their expressions unreadable.

Just then, Violet climbed up beside her sister, her eyes scanning the attic before landing on the suit. "What happened?" she asked, but the question died in her throat when she saw what everyone was staring at. "Holy shit."

"Let's get rid of it," Vivien, clearly unnerved, gently pushed past Ben, moving towards her daughters. "Come on." she ordered, her voice soft but urgent.

Sunshine nodded, following her mother and sister back toward the ladder. But just as she reached the top of the stairs, her eyes flicked back to the rubber suit, lingering a moment longer. 

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Sunshine slid her earbuds into place, the familiar, haunting notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata flooding her senses. She reached into the drawer of her bedside table, her fingers brushing against a small, crinkled baggy filled with white pills. Without hesitation, she plucked one from the bag and popped it into her mouth, chasing it down with a quick sip of water from the glass by her bed.

With a sigh, she settled back onto her pillow, pulling the blankets up to her chin as the sonata swelled in her ears. Her eyes fluttered shut, the weight of the day melting away. In her mind, she wasn't just listening—she was there, seated at a grand piano, her fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys, playing alongside Beethoven himself. The music filled her, consumed her, until it was the only thing left.

After a while, the edges of the physical world around her began to blur as the pill took effect, casting everything in a dreamlike fog. Sunshine felt the weight of drowsiness wash over her, her limbs growing heavy as if she were sinking into a soft, endless cloud. The music from her earbuds grew distant, echoing through her mind like a lullaby. Her worries, her stresses, all the sharp edges of reality, dulled and faded, dissolving into the haze along with her drifting thoughts.

It felt as though she were drifting in a dream—perhaps she had already fallen asleep. A sudden weight pressed down on the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under the pressure. She shivered as a cold draft brushed over her skin, her blanket slipping down without warning.

She felt gentle tugs around her hips, followed by the unsettling sensation of rubber-clad hands gliding slowly down her legs. Her heart raced as fear coursed through her drowsy mind.

A sharp, unexpected pain flared between her legs, but just as quickly, the sensation twisted into something strange, almost pleasurable, sending a confused jolt through her. Her mind tried to grasp what was happening, but it felt like she was swimming through fog. Slowly, in the haze of her dream, she forced her eyes open.

And then she saw him.

A man loomed over her, his face obscured by the glossy black suit from the attic that clung to his body. His eyes, dark and soulless, stared into hers. There was a cruel, haunting stillness to his gaze, and in that instant, a wave of terror gripped her. 

This had to be a nightmare—a twisted reflection of her fear from earlier. Yet everything felt so real, too real. Her chest tightened, fear coiling inside her like a spring wound too tight, but she couldn't move. Couldn't scream. She was trapped in the nightmare.

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