“

It was one of those makeshift projects, stapled at the edges. Not even important enough to get laminated or placed between a hardcover.

“

“She just wants a friend!” Ben screamed.

“

“There be the other ones out there.”

“

Dread put its cold hands around my heart and squeezed.

“

I heard it then. Crunching of boots on broken glass. There was someone out there, walking around my car. Why hadn’t they tried to help us? What were they doing? 

“

“Don’t you worry, I still know how to paint a happy picture. I’m just saving it for the year when your mother finally forgives me.” 

“

How did he even know where I lived? Everything about this creeped me out.

“

I found a few of my Instagram pictures, some with my eyes marked out in red. Some with a black sharpie line across my throat. Some with my head cut out completely. 

“

I woke up with marks on my wrists. Two vertical, red slashes on each side. They were written with sharpie, but meant to look like self-harm scars.

“

She peeled the hair back from her head like curtains with two clawed hands, revealing her nonexistent face. There were only indents across her skin where the eyes and nose and mouth would be.