"What are you talking about?" I ask.
"What I am talking about", she begins, "is that red hand mark on your neck. Did Luke do anything to you while I was gone?"
"Mom!" I laugh, "Even if he tried, I could take him down in a heartbeat."
"Then what the heck is it?" Mom demands.
I hate being pressured into answering things, especially if I already don't want to answer. My palms get sweaty. Should I tell her? Should I make up some lie that'll come and bite me in the butt? I try to make my breathing as steady as possible. I have finally decided what I'm going to do. I grab my mother's arm and bring her up to my room. I shut the door so that little to no noise will expand downstairs.
"What is this about, Emily?" Mom questions.
"Do you really want to know what these prints are?" I ask.
"Of course I do!" Mom exclaims.
"If you must." I start, "I've been having really bad dreams about two months after the move. They've been horrifying, to tell you the tru-"
"You're crazy," Mom interrupts.
"Don't interrupt me." I snap, "I'm being serious! In the dream, I'm being attacked and harassed. And I think that it's something more than just a dream!"
"Honey," she begins, "please tell me the truth. What is wrong with your neck?"
I was too infuriated to think right now. I knew that anyone would think that I was crazy. Why did I even try?
"Out," I shout.
"Excuse me?" Mom asks.
"Did I stutter? I am telling you to get out of my room!" I command.
Mom walks to the door and leaves, a slamming door leaves right behind her. I hear her stomp down the steps and exchange a few words with Luke. Then I hear the front door shut. I look out of my window to see her car fading away.
I steady myself after what had just happened. I walk downstairs to find Luke casually flipping through the television guide.
"What was all that about?" He asks.
"None of your business," I coldly say.
If my own mother didn't believe me, how would anyone else? I go to the kitchen and fix myself a glass of iced water. As I walk towards the stairs, I hear a door shut upstairs. I just passed Luke just a second ago. I creep upstairs and peek into the hall. Nothing different from what I can see. I walk toward my room and notice that the door was shut. I thought that I left it opened. I open the door and sit on my bed.
I notice myself dozing off. Why do I feel so drained? Was it because of my little dish with Mom? That's the only explanation I can conjure up. I slip under the covers to take a little nap. Just before I feel the drift from reality to slumbers, I notice a figure in the center of my door frame.
I open my eyes and realize that it wasn't just an ordinary figure. The mist looked more human than I ever remembered. I stare at it. It configures into a more firm humanistic figure as each millisecond passes. It looks like a man in his thirties. He had dark hair that was combed back. He seemed a little over six feet tall with pale skin covering everywhere his clothes weren't covering. He was wearing a dress suit which seemed to give me a 50's or 60's feel. His face was what scared me. He had a smile that gave me chills. He looked as though he had sinister plans for me. His eyes are what bothered me the most. They were black, all the way. There was nothing else but black that was filling the man's eyes.
I let out a gasp, which was the only thing that I could do. His smile widens which revealed pointed, demon-like teeth.
"What do you want from me?" I breathe.
He doesn't speak anything. He just stares at me with his grimacing look.
"Please, just leave me alone!" I beg, "I've done nothing wrong!"
His face transforms into a look of anger. He transports from the door and right in front of my face in less than a second. I suddenly cant breathe. I notice that his hand is around my neck once again. This can't be a dream. I don't remember going to sleep.
"'I've done nothing wrong!'", he mimics. "You've done everything wrong since the moment you stepped your little feet right in this house! You aren't supposed to be here! This is my house! You just waltz right in and ruin my peace! I've been here all alone for fifty years!" He exclaims.
The lights start flickering.
"That's all I've ever wanted! Being alone is all I have ever wanted! This is not your home! This is my home! If you don't get out soon, I will force you to get out!"
I begin to sob. The man gets angrier and hurls a framed picture of my friends and me from Florida at me. I have no room to avoid it, so it hits me on my forehead. I scream at the searing pain as I feel the gash on my head. I look down at my fingers and notice that blood was covering them. The man is roaring with laughter.
Things in my room start flying in every direction. By that time, I'm screaming at the top of my lungs. Where the hell is Luke? I start screaming for him. The man is still laughing. How does he not hear this? I curl into a ball and close my eyes. I hear my door open and everything goes silent.
"Emily?" Luke asks, "What's going on? Why are you screaming?"
I open my eyes to see that it was, indeed, Luke. I open my arms and squeeze him, crying into his shoulder. I can't explain what happened. He'll think that I belong in a mental institution.
"I was having a really bad nightmare," I lie.
"Why do you have a cut on your head?" He asks.
"Maybe I hit it on my desk while I was sleeping," I suggest.
"That far away?"
"It was a really bad dream."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, I don't."
He gets up and walks off. I stare at my room for a few seconds. Everything looks as if nothing in the past few minutes had happened. Am I going crazy? Then, at the corner of my eye, I notice the man walking past my door. He had a smile of satisfaction, showing off his animal teeth.
