Emily Gibson brushes her hair before heading off to bed; a hundred strokes is a perfect count for her golden, stick straight hair. The lights are dim and her bed with rose covers is prepared to host her for the night; the room is spotless. Placing the brush down, she steps away from the mirror on her dresser, casually glancing at herself. She is busy focusing on her eyelashes when a dark shadow passes behind her.
She turns swiftly. With her heart racing she asks, "Hello? Lisa," she calls out to her little sister, a five year-old like her loves to play pranks, "this isn't funny, I saw you running by me, I didn't like it!"
A soft giggle is heard as it echoes around the room, the effect is eerie. Emily has always been someone who gets easily scared. Her best friend, Nicole, never liked watching horror movies with her.
"Lisa?" She calls again, softer this time, the fear overwhelming her voice.
Suddenly a breeze like phenomena overtakes her room and the white lace curtains begin to sway on their own, the windows are shut so no wind is entering. The pages on her desk begin to shuffle and fly magically into the air.
"I know who you are." A little girl's voice resounds in front of Emily and she screams, running backwards from what she sees that is connected to the voice.
Without realizing what she is doing, Emily trips over the night table in front of the window. She crashes through the fragile glass with one last bloody cry before landing two levels down on the hard concrete of the house’s driveway, head turned in the wrong direction, and a trickle of blood escaping her semi-opened mouth.