Vanessa Den:

I stared at my best friend as her urgent eyes look into mine. Bree has been haunted by this “man” for a while now. I have no idea what he looks like, but every time she mentions him, my gut starts to twist and my head swarms. I feel nauseated. This usually means one of my feelings. I feel this way when paranormal activity is near, or something bad has happened. Only worse. When it's really bad, I get shooting pains. It's not fun.

 “ Vanessa and Bree, please turn towards me and stop gossiping!” said a boring voice of our math teacher Mr. Gerrate. I automatically turn around to see Mr. G towering over me with a tired look on his face.

“ Sorry.” we mumble in at the same time. “ Lunch.” I read from the note thrown onto my notebook. I nod without looking. I feel a poke on my arm and I laugh under my breath. We usually leave for my house so we can talk in private or the entire class would think we are mental.

The class drones on and on until Bryan raises a hand eagerly , waving like a maniac. “ Yes, Bryan?” sighs Mr. G.

“It's lunch time!” Bryan gasps. Mr. G looks up, sighs one last time then nods. That's usual the signal that class is dismiss and we are free to finally eat. Groups of kids run to their bags like packs of sheep. BAA over there. BAA over here.

I slowly stand up from my seat and shuffle over to Mr. G. “ Yes, what is it Vanessa?” He sounds like he's half asleep.

“ I just wanted to inform you that I'll be going home today for lunch and Bree is accompanying me.” Mr. G doesn't care, so he just waves a hand at us like ,“ Go ahead. Eat the glue, get poisoned and die, I just want go to bed.”

I mutter my thanks and skip over to Bree fidgeting with a lose string on her shirt.

“ Let's go.” I say as I walk past her. Bree's following behind me in no time. We don't speak. We hardly do at school. I mean would you if there was a bunch of gossipers dieing for the latest news of embarrassed girls or the geek freaks biggest nerd herd meeting of the century?! No. I don't think you would. Unless you were very quiet about it.

We finally make it outside, and I take a deep breath. Aside from the odd smell, it refills my lungs of nature instead of dirty old text books. Bree is instantly at a breathless babble.

“ So, what I see is him in some forest that seems familiar but still I can't put my finger on it. Anyway, he comes out in his usual get up and this time he's holding a knife. It's dripping of blood. No, more likely FLOWING WITH BLOOD! 'cause there's , like , a huge puddle beneath it.” She stopped to take a breather.

I give her a WTF look and she shuts up before giving me her typical eye roll. We continue to walk the short way to my house when a sudden blow of shooting pains take over me. I grimace a little but ignore it. I'm already too familiar with the pain.

We finally get to my house and we walk inside and sit opposite to each other.

 “ So that's all what happened?” I asked after a brief moment of silence.

“Yup.” Bree laughs with no humor. I think what it would be like to see him. Then the idea hits me.

“Um, hey Bree?” She looks up from her hands. “ Can...can I see a drawing of the scene.” Bree's eyes look shocked, then confused.


“ Well, it's just that I haven't seen him yet, and it would REALLY help if I saw him for my own eyes.” I say while standing up and walking to get some paper. I hear her sigh a fine.

“ Thank you!” I yelp. 

Bree takes the number two pencil from my hand and starts to scribble some lines on it. I sit back in my chair , trying to be patient but to no avail.

“ Oh come on!” I shout at her, but shut up when she glares up at me. I sink into my chair and wait for a couple more minutes when finally a paper flies onto my lap.

“ There. Happy?” Bree's voice sounds annoyed but satisfied with her drawing. I slowly flip the page over and gasp.

In the picture, theres a old, mangled tree in the very center of the drawing. Behind it, theres a bunt load of others blending in. Leaning against the tree is a stranger wearing a black jacket with the hood pulled up over his eyes. His pants are black as well are his shoes. The only thing I see is a devilish grin drawn on his face and a knife apparently smothered in dark liquid.

I gasp again. “ What is it?” Bree says quietly. “ I've seen him before.” I whisperer.

“Where?” Bree's voice is suddenly hyper-active and worried.

“ In my dreams.” I manage to stagger out.

The End

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