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Air was swooshing and carrying the murmurs of nature that traveled long ways and into his buzzing skull. Looking at his hands, scarred to the bone, very delicate, Kyle tries to remember, pushing himself up from the grounds. He looked at himself more closely: torn out clothing, scars on his arms, a split lip, black eye. Simply, he thinks, I am a mess. The grass, he noticed while walking aimlessly in the meadow, was a dull yellow, in which signifies the end of fall. The smell is intoxicating, a mixture of pomegranate and dragon fruit that fills his nose with every ragged breath. “In and out, in and out”, he murmurs to himself. With shivers down his spine, he turns around, surveying the place. Downhill is the lake, the little apple tree, the huge rock that shone on the sun. He could picture it from memory and here lies the real thing. Kyle frowns a little, kneeling on the ground. The memory is mistaken; it should be, because what he feels is oddly at peace. But everything is a faded color, a little less of what it used to be. Suddenly an earsplitting screech made its way into the meadow, provoking his vision to become red with an irrational fury, animalistic in nature. He feels disoriented. He scrambled about as he tries to regain his balance, checking that the ground haven’t moved or turned upside down while he was unconscious. What lies before him now was not a dull patch of grass but a dark figure on the ground. Uncomprehending, his chest tightens and his breath catches, releasing a sob. With tears Kyle ran towards the body, so lifelessly, so battered, almost unrecognizable. Suddenly, as he reached for the body, a fierce pain flashed into his skull. He could still see the red strands of hair.
With a start, Kyle woke up. He did not expect the scene that was before him. Smashed debris on the pavement, a tire and lots of glass was the rest of the car. The angle was all wrong, and he couldn’t see anyone else. In the glass he could see blood shining through, making a grotesque sparkle that reflected his face. Then he noticed his face was very pale and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even twitch. His blank stare reflected back on him from one of the bigger shards of glass. He didn’t hear the screech of the car but the vibrations on the ground were a dead giveaway: the reflection showed how the car came closer and smashed his skull. Then, it was dark.
Kyle woke up with his breathing harsh and rapid, like his heart had been stimulated to pound against his ribs for a thousand a minute. Cold sweat gathered in his temple and he was thrashing left and right; the only problem was that he couldn’t open his eyes.

Two girls sat in their garage, the lights on bright, the street dark. There weren’t any cars in the driveway, no one else was home. They sat there, laughing and talking and being obnoxious, something teenagers girls are prone to. They giggled and teased and talked about boys and threw the gooey insides of their jack o’lanterns at each other. They didn’t notice when it began, they were too caught up with their own business. A low whistle, so faint it made you wonder if it even existed. It wasn’t a tune, just one steady whistle, almost like a rustle, like autumn wind through the trees. Slowly it became louder and louder, until it started bother one of them. She said something to her friend, probably along the lines of, ”Did you hear that?” Her friend shook it off, said it was all in her head. Suffice to say, by the next morning, neither of them had enough of a head to imagine anything.

His laughing pealed through the house, filling my bones with a burning ice. It froze me, solid.
His footsteps, heavy, dragged through the halls. Closer, and closer, to me. My eyes watered in fear.
His figure appeared in the doorway, a knife in his hand. I sat on the ground, unable to move, to speak, to do anything but wait.
He slid towards me, his rough hands pulling my hair as my scream filled the room.
I tried to fight back, kicking his chest as he attempted to control me.
His sharp nails dug into my exposed leg, scratching me into oblivion.

And then I felt something..
Pain.
And more alarmingly..
Pleasure.

A moan escapes my lips and he pauses.
I watch, still terrified as his grin spreads from ear to ear.
As soon as it happens, I curse my sick mind. I curse my sick mind and how, for a split second, I enjoyed it.

Because I knew now,
he was going to do much more than kill me.