Pitch black. My eyes burst open, frantically trying to adjust; overcome by the darkness in my room, I am terrified to look. I think someone is there, with me... in my bed, but I'm just not sure. Wanting to roll over to dispel my fear, terror becomes the victor. Lying as still as a corpse, I desperately attempt to focus, willing the drug induced fog out of my body. A beam of moonlight struggles its way through my closed window blinds, outlining the bottom half of my closet's folding doors and the raggedy carpet that beckons me, "Get up. Come here."

~

"Hi. I'm Brad," he says, attempting to match my pace as I walk home from school. Looking at him, I increase my speed and say nothing. "I saw you in front of your house yesterday by yourself. We just moved in a couple days ago."

"Hi." I give in.

"What's your name?"

"Heather?"

"Is that a question?"

"No, my name is Heather."

"So, you wanna', like, start walking to school together? And maybe home too?"

"I guess."

"Totally cool. See ya' later."

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